Author's Note: Thank you to those who decided to read my story, and give me a review! It really helps me out too, and I just love seeing what you all have to say! All spelling mistakes/grammar mistakes are mine! On Archive of Our Own, my username is bruh_moments, and I cross-posted this story on FF and Ao3! Again, I thank you kindly! If you, my dear reader, have anything that needs to be corrected, please let me know! :)
Westeros, North of the Wall
"You saw that, right?" A nervous voice belonging to Luke Skywalker whispered.
Hands wrapped around his chest, using his gloved hands to rub against his arms. A shivering Han Solo quipped, "Saw what?"
Luke's bright, sky-blue gaze narrowed as he continued to stare at the shadowed forest before him. The sticky presence in the Force muddled with Luke's own aura, almost infecting the boy with it's sickly, inhuman existence within the Force. It was different though from Vader's presence. Luke had kept the Sith's daunting manifestation in the Force to his mind, and taught himself to shield from the invisible, searching tendrils Vader was connected to.
But this? He knew that Vader had to be human, at least. But this. Those blue eyes had to belong to a specter, perhaps. A subhuman creature of flesh, maybe? Luke began to theorize of what that thing could be, and the feeling of cold bitter fear, even more frigid than the ice and flakes that surrounded him, seep into his clothed body. A snap of fingers brought him from his thoughtful trance as he gazed at the snow, and his wide eyes snapped towards Han. A rise of annoyance filtered through him, but Han snapped, "You losin' yer mind, kid? We need you to stay with us, not going into la-la land,"
Luke opened his lips to deliver a retort, but the smuggler raised his pointer finger to quiet him. "Tell me what you saw." Han's brown eyes cautiously shifted to observe where Skywalker's gaze formerly subsided at. Everything appeared quiet and well to the older man. But there was an deathly silence to accommodate the wood that stood before him. The skies were a dreary grey, heavy clouds filled with snow drifted by leisurely. It seemed to be midday on their mystery planet.
Swallowing, the young Jedi replied slowly, "I dunno.. within those trees over there," The boy raised his arm to point in front of him, between two large trunks of grey barked trees. "I saw a pair of glowing blue eyes. They stared right at me, and.. I.." Skywalker's adam's apple bobbed in nervousness as he swallowed.
"You looked back at it?" Han questioned him bluntly.
"Y-Yeah, but then once you talked to me, they disappeared," The boy brought his hands together to rub at his bare palms, wanting to rid himself of the biting ice that threatened to engulf his flesh. Han regarded the young boy's statement, straight-faced. The middle-aged man sighed, sniffing as his nose began to run.
"Well, there's nothin' there. Yer jus' probably seein' things kid."
"But I saw it, Han! I'm not sure what that thing was but-"
"Look at me, kid," The middle aged man clasped his hands on Luke's shoulders. The smuggler stared into Luke's own gaze, and he suddenly felt small underneath Solo's eyes. "I don't want you goin' nuts while we're here, okay? If you really wanna go see what it was, be my guest. But don't go crying to me if those pair of blue eyes won at your lil' staring contest."
Skywalker pursed his lips, averting his eyes down to silently observe the snow. Indeed, Skywalker held a desire to go investigate what it was, but another wanted him to stay by the safety of his friends. But then again, Luke was always a curious young soul. And what fueled his thirst for knowledge was to prove Han wrong. He saw it! Why didn't Han even believe him? He wasn't going nuts, was he? No, he felt fine. Besides the ache on his forehead, of course. Maybe Leia would come with him and see the thing for themselves? Maybe he would take Artoo with him. Brow furrowed, Luke's right hand drifted for his saber, fingers brushing over the polished steel that was his Father's Lightsaber. He huffed.
"I'm going to see what that thing was. And I'm taking Leia with me." Before Han could reply, Luke turned and walked past the smuggler, and up the ramp. Entering the hallways, young Skywalker quickly found the young woman with two powered-on Droids, Artoo and Threepio.
The golden protocol Droid greeted Luke, saying automatically, "Hello again, Master Luke. It unfortunately seems that the Millennium Falcon's hyperdrive has failed.. and found ourselves on a planet unknown to us," Threepio then looked towards the blue and white Astromech, Artoo. "It displeases me to say, but there is no data regarding what planet we currently reside on."
Princess Leia groaned, slowly bringing her hands to clutch at her face. Artoo trilled aloud, his domed head rotating clockwise from Luke, to Leia. Skywalker grimaced as he heard a disheveled sigh from the young woman. She brought her small hands away from her face, brushing a strand of her brown hair. Her stressed gaze then settled on young Skywalker, and the boy gave her a reassuring smile. "Well, if we don't know anything about it, then why don't we go explore? I'm sure we can find at least something out there." Luke offered aloud.
From the hyperdrive maintenance pit in the main lounge where Leia, Luke, and Droids sat in currently, was a muffled growl from Chewie. A few 'clanks' and metal being stressed could be heard, the Wookiee entirely focused on repairing the hyperdrive. "And then maybe Chewie can repair it in time, and go home! How about that?"
Leia quirked an eyebrow. She answered, exhaustion hinting at her tone, "No. I will stay here and help out," Leia pointed to the two Droids. "Take either Threepio or Artoo. I'm sure one of them would come with."
"But-"
"No." Leia glared at the young Luke, silencing him. He understood though, even if Luke was displeased by Leia's answer. He was stressed out too, and distressed by the situation they all got themselves in. They had absolutely no idea where they were, they were stuck here, for the Falcon's engines wouldn't even power up, (Thankfully though, they still had holocommunications to be given at the Rebel Base). At that sudden thought, Luke then asked quickly, "Did you tell the Rebel Alliance?"
"I did."
A sudden hope filled Skywalker. They were saved! The Rebels could fly to the planet, and rescue them from the snow! Wait.. why did Leia look so unperturbed by his bright smile? His grin fell, as through Leia's aura, Luke felt uncertainty and even.. despair? "Well? What did they say? Are they gonna come or what?"
"We are far away, Luke. So far, that we managed to chart into the Unknown Regions. We're on our own, and they can't send us any support," Artoo sounded a 'bwoo.' Threepio kept silent.
What?
A few footsteps sounded behind him, and Luke turned to meet a crossing-armed Han Solo. "She's right, kid. Like her majesty said, we're on our own."
Okay. They were in the Unknown Regions, apparently, and the Alliance can't send them anything to help. All they had were comms and holocommunications to the Alliance. Well, at least that's something. They needed to get out of here, now. So much for vacations, Luke hissed the thought. Artoo rolled on his pedes to approach young Skywalker. Placing the palm of his hand on the Droid's dome-shaped head, Skywalker pursed his lips. Aside from the annoyed growling from Chewbacca, it was silent. Princess looked crestfallen at the sudden and drastic situation that they were in, and before Luke stepped in to comfort her, Han did instead. The smuggler cautiously approached Leia with a quiet, "c'mere."
Leia fell into the middle-aged man's warm embrace, hugging the older man tight. After watching the entire act silently, Luke then mumbled quietly to Artoo, "Come on, let's leave them be."
Artoo complied, and Luke grabbed a thick coat and a comlink, sitting on the loungeroom's table. Putting the clothing on, the young boy stated, "Alright. Artoo's coming with me, and I have a comlink," He looked towards Han and the Princess, who were still embraced in a quiet hug. An awkward silence settled on Skywalker when they didn't respond, he added then, "I'll let you know if I found anything."
"Alright, Luke. Stay safe," Leia said, her voice muffled.
Nodding, Skywalker gestured for Artoo to follow him, padding through the hallway of the Falcon. Exiting the ramp which was closed after Han, a breeze of ice brushed against Luke's face. Checking for his 'saber once again, the weapon was secured around his belt. Alright.. comlink in my pocket? Luke used a hand to enter the pocket of the coat. Check. Artoo gave a few terse beeps, bouncing on his pedes. "Excited, aren't we?" Luke laughed breathily.
Artoo trilled once, and rolled on his pedes and into the snow. Skywalker followed suit, fluffy snow scattered from his booted feet as he trudged through. He looked back towards the Falcon, feeling a rise of nervousness settle over him. The ramp had closed. He swallowed. Turning back, he found the Astromech several meters ahead of him, already entering the thin trees mingled with thick wood that were before him. "Artoo, wait up!"
The Droid sounded a beep, and Skywalker released an exasperated sigh, running through the darkening snow to catch up with the Astromech. No doubt he was nervous to be entering the shadowed unknown, but his fear was quieted by the presence of his trusty Droid, Artoo. No doubt the Force's presence here was peculiar. It released a barely noticeable hum, but it was a sinister, creepy feeling that crawled over him like a swarm of Kryknas.
He felt as if he was being watched.
Unbeknownst to Luke Skywalker, he was.
Outer Rim Territories, Hoth
Rebel Alliance Base (Echo Base)
Loud, mechanical stomping thundered across the snow. Imperial TIE-Fighters swarmed Echo Base like black flies. To ward the agile crafts away were the Alliance's X-Wings. The roars of TIEs mingled with the loud growls of X-Wings as they fought within the skies. To accompany the valiant flying fighters of the Alliance were snowspeeders. They zoomed across the plain of snow, a hailstorm of blasterfire surged from both sides. Blue and red flashes of light found their targets. Delivering a flip in mid-air, an Rebel X-Wing closely followed suit an Imperial TIE fighter. The Rebel pilot was skilled, and delivered a precise shot to the TIE's left wing.
A flurry of fire engulfed the Imperial ship, sending the craft uncontrollably tumbling down to the snow with a fierce, fiery explosion. Rebel soldiers raised their blasters to deliver blastershots to Imperial Snowtroopers that began their ground assault onto the thick blanket of snow. Shouting, mixed with the screams of those dying could be heard. Within the snowy trenches embedded into the ground near Echo Base, Rebel troops continued their defense against the Imperial's offensive.
To accompany the screeching TIE-fighters however, were five gigantic, Imperial mechanical quadrupeds made entirely out of durable, hard durasteel. The wide steel feet of the AT-AT powerfully stomped on the snow, sending white mist scouring the ground before it. The heads of the walkers spat out a series of powerful blasts towards the small flying crafts that were the snowspeeders, the fearless Rebel pilots still remained in position despite the ongoing canons the AT-ATs were equipped shot from. Lord Vader's Imperial Star Destroyer, the Devastator, hung in midair within the clear skies of Hoth, patiently waiting for the main shield generator that shielded the base from orbital bombardment by the Empire.
Rebel troops scattered a retreat as the great Imperial machines marched forth, and TIE-fighters began to gain the upperhand in the battle of the icy skies. Standing on either side of the pilot's chairs of one AT-AT in particular, was General Maximilian Veers. Eyes narrowed, he barked an order to the two Imperial AT-AT pilots, aiming the walker's canons to a snowspeeder that shot directly towards them in the thick, white blanket. The Rebel craft soared over the sea of white, but soon crashed when the walker aimed a successful shot at the small flying vehicle. But there were more of the small ships to take its place. Like other ships before it, the snowspeeder and its pilots met their demise in a blazing 'boom.'
They were gaining more ground, as Veers saw what he was looking for: the Rebel shield generator. A smile formed on the General's face. To follow, a blue hologram of Lord Vader himself bestowed before the control panel screen. The Sith Lord questioned Veers of the ongoing assault, and Veers felt a shimmer of pleased satisfaction course through him. He gave a nod, saying, "Yes, Lord Vader. I've reached the main shield generator," The hissing, screeching roars of TIE-fighters could be heard, almost drowning out Veer's voice. "The shield will be down in moments, and you may start your landing."
The blue mini figure of the Sith disappeared, leaving the three Imperials to continue their overwhelming assault on Hoth. Veer's grip tightened on the seats where the two AT-AT pilots sat, busily pressing buttons on the control pad of the walker to remain balanced. Veers shifted his wild gaze to his left of the walker's viewport, and saw that the Rebels managed to topple one of their great constructs. Gritting his teeth and nostrils flared, Veers roared a command to all of the pilots of each and every Imperial walker as soon as their target was in range, "Fire!"
They did as the General commanded.
The giant shield generator erupted into a spectacular mess of sparks and fire as soon as the walkers fired from their canons, nearly shaking the ground from such a powerful force of energy that was released. It was a wonderful sight, indeed. Rebel troops that remained near the generator were instantly vaporized, and he could see the remains of the Rebel force scatter like a pack of rats.
"All remaining troops will debark for ground assault," The pleased General patted the chair on his left. What remained now were power cells for the Rebel Alliance.
He asked the pilot to his left, "Distance to power generators?"
"One-seven, decimal two-eight."
The General gave a single nod, reaching for the electrorangefinder, lining it up to observe the main power generator. "Target. Maximum fire power,"
The walkers complied to his demand, and akin to the shield generator, the power generator exploded to smithereens. The snowy ground trembled and shook, and the Imperial troops amassed with the walkers as they began to infiltrate the defenseless Rebel Base. Soaring overhead the AT-AT walkers, was an Imperial shuttle, carrying Lord Vader inside. To accompany the shuttle was a squad of TIE-fighters set neatly behind, but swerved away as the Sith Lord's ship settled onto the ground near the opened entrance of Echo Base.
A Rebel evacuation transport darted away however, shooting into the skies without a second thought. TIE-fighters followed suit into the atmosphere, but the ship shot into hyperspace. A few lagging Rebel troops were shot squarely in the back by snowtroopers, but one Rebel Officer tried to shield a wounded trooper from a group of advancing Imperials. They begged for both of their lives, their wails desperate.
But no one would dare defy the Empire.
The Rebels were eradicated without a second thought, and the Imperial force continued onwards. Leaving the Imperial shuttle was Lord Vader, and he was accompanied by a squad of snowtroopers. Walking inside the Base, they infiltrated the dimly lit, empty corridors.
The rasps of Lord Vader could be heard through the frozen halls, echoing throughout. He was finally here. He had finally managed to find the Rebels, and he was finally so close to finding Skywalker. An Imperial Officer staggered through the snow, breathing heavily as the young man approached the Sith. His face was pale, and the Sith curled his lip underneath his mask. He felt uncertainty radiating from this one. And a terror to accompany it. Breathlessly, the young, black-haired man said, "Lord Vader.. hnf.. I was sent to inform you that a.. Rebel evacuation ship managed to.. hhnf.. leave,"
Vader stood silently, stoic. Slowly, his black gloves clenched, and the Dark Side of the Force drowned in rage and fury. The anger, (fear?) of his son even being on that transport enveloped Vader into a blanket of pure and raw frustration and rage that his could have managed to even slip through his grasp again. Before he could raise a hand to choke the life out of the visibly horrified man, he heard a familiar, feminine voice sound somewhere close.
The Sith's eyes widened underneath the mask, but then the voice suddenly quieted. Reaching his tendrils out into the Force, he felt a hidden lifeform that was near him. Suddenly turning away, he stormed off, leaving a relieved Officer behind. To follow suit, three snowtroopers scampered after him, their weapons raised. Storming through the corridors, he continued to reach out into the Force, his raging fire of anger that burned inside him was reduced a microscopic amount.
The presence he sensed was quite literally on the opposite side of a snowy wall that he then faced. He flicked his finger, signaling his two troopers to step back. As they obeyed, the Sith called to the Dark Side of the Force, reinforcing his power to be put onto the white barrier before him. Vader reached out a gloved hand, and pushed. Snow cracked and stumbled down, revealing to him a crouching lone Rebel, with an open hologram of a fearful, now-turned horrified at the sight before her. A Caphex Rebel Officer quickly stood and staggered from the Sith Lord who towered before him. Lord Vader raised his gloved hand up, prohibiting his forces from killing the visibly trembling Caphex.
"Vader.." The hologram of Leia whispered, before the Rebel used a gloved hand to immediately flick the hologram of the Princess off. Using the Force once more, he called to the holocom that belonged to the Rebel. It wrenched itself away from the wispy-haired Caphex's grip, earning a few fearful protests in a alienoid language. Gently, the Sith Lord held the object for a few moments, looking down at the device with a heated gaze that was sheltered behind his mask.
He held an extremely valuable use for this particular object, indeed. His searing fury that was once ate at Vader like a parasite evolved into a quiet satisfaction. He observed the Rebel, and saw the particular badges that the Caphex wore. He held a high rank, an important figure for the Rebel Alliance. A commander, maybe. Lord Vader then shifted his smoldering gaze back to the communications device that the Rebel previously had.
Drifting a thumb over the device and studying the object more intensely, there was a very faint beep that sounded in the small object. The Caphex's red eyes boggled, as the Sith continued to explore the intricate thing more intensely. The air was thick with tension, followed by the faint clicks of weapons being readied and the distant marching of Imperial Troops. He then found a tiny button situated on the right side of the device, and he pressed it. A sharp intake of breath resonated from the Caphex Rebel. He found what he was searching for, and Vader's scarred frown slowly built into a complacent smile.
Rage morphed into a budding satisfaction.
Ah.
A tracking device was embedded into the holocomm.
Westeros, North of the Wall
"Vader."
Leia stared at the holocommmunications device in the palm of her small hand, her face written in various emotions. Fear, anger, sorrow, rage. The young woman swallowed slowly, her heart hammered inside her chest. She was only just notified of the precarious Imperial Attack that was recently established on the planet of Hoth, the Empire entirely annihilating Echo Base and taking over. The Caphex commander, under the name of Fomaim Loks, had given her the valuable information. As soon as the white-skinned humanoid announced the terrible news to her, the Princess was absolutely infuriated that she couldn't be of help. In reality however, she wouldn't have. Echo Base would have to be evacuated either way, in order to rid themselves of the Imperial invasion. Yet, Leia was a fiery spirit; and wanted the Imps to suffer underneath her own blasterfire.
Her hands trembled, and her jaw was clenched. Currently sitting in the pilot's chair in the Falcon's cockpit, Leia quickly placed the device on the control pad of the craft. She saw the hologram of the Sith Lord before her, until mere milliseconds later she was prohibited the sight of the Monster bathed in a dull blue. Opening her lips just slightly to gingerly take a breath of air, Leia bit her lip, burying her face into her hands. Dozens of Rebels had scarified themselves in order to let those flee the Base, and she was undoubtedly thankful. Yet her shared hatred for the Empire only grew greater in strength, following her overwhelming guilt of not being available to those in need at Hoth. I can't tell Luke of this. She thought. It would absolutely crush him.
Tears began to form in the corners of her eyes from the grief and blameworthiness that crossed over her, enacting a muffled sob from the Princess. She heard footsteps approach, and the voice of Han Solo filled her ears. "Ey, Princess? What's wrong..?"
She didn't reply, but Han carefully approached her, his gaze then set onto the holocomm that currently sat on the Falcon's controls. He gulped, having completely no knowledge on how to correctly comfort the poor woman. Well, he'd just have to wing it. Quiet sniffling followed by soft sobs echoed from her, and Solo gently lowered himself down to crouch in front of the young woman that was in distress. Biting his lip, Han raised a daring hand to take one of Leia's own from her face. "Tell me what happened."
"..I-It's the Base," Leia sobbed. "It's gone. People are dead, Han! It's go-"
Solo did something that he would've never thought he did. Well, I mean, he did hug her a little bit ago. Yet this very act was something very un-smuggler like. Han raised himself up, and he pulled Leia into a tight embrace. Leia's fingers dug into his vest, as if fearing she will float away if she didn't. Her sobs intensified and wracked her small body, her arms stuck to his neck like glue. Solo, using a gentle hand, began to glide his fingers through her hair. "Shhh, Princess. It's alright-"
The Princess quickly pulled away, nearly pushing Han onto his bottom. He stumbled back, and a searing hatred was written entirely across her face. It was almost demonic by how powerful it was. Hell, he was a little terrified by the sight, he had to admit. Han's eyes were wide with shock. Following the face of fury on Leia's face, tears streamed down her cheeks. "No! It's not! The Empire killed our own, Han! Even though most of us managed to escape, those who were left behind died! Died to Vader!"
The middle aged man gaped at the fierce young woman, holding his hands in front of him, offering no physical defense against her. He was still as open he could be, and he reasoned with the young woman. "Leia, you just said that most of us managed to escape, isn't that right?"
"Yes, bu-"
"They still escaped," Han pointed out. "The Rebellion still lives on, courtesy to those that sacrificed themselves for it to still be alive."
Shit. He mused silently to himself. How did I manage to even say that? I feel like a grown man now.
Ironically, he was a man grown. But his time during the Alliance certainly made him more mature and hold more responsible aspects to himself. The middle-aged man watched the younger woman pace back and forth, her breathing erratic. There was something else up, too. Han kept standing where he was, making no move to induce the Princess into even more stress. She mumbled something about Vader, and that's when Han asked, "Vader? Whaddya mean, Vader?"
Leia then eyed him, her shoulders raised. "Vader has Lok's holocomm, Han."
"And?"
"And, that means that the Empire now has the chance to discover where we are," The Princess sighed heavily. "They can find us, Han! Don't you see?!"
Oh karking hell. Wonderful. Absolutely, positively, one-hundred percent wonderful!
"Look, even if they can, it'll take 'em a long time," The smuggler looked towards the doorway of the Falcon's cockpit. "We can just destroy them too. Easy."
"We can't do that Han. Because they are the only communication devices we have!"
Han approached Leia unhurriedly, frowning. Lifting a hand to stroke the Princess' cheek to clean her tears, Han reassured her, "If anything happens, Leia, just know that I'll be by your side. Always."
The girl averted her gaze from his, sniffling. Taking her hand in Solo's own, a sweet smile slowly built on her face. She whispered, "Never knew you were like a loving little loth-kitten."
"Sometimes Princess, I amaze even myself."
Westeros, the South
King's Landing, Red Keep
They ate by themselves often.
"The pease are overcooked," The red-haired girl whispered softly.
"No matter," A voice answered, with a slight jesting hint to his tone. "So is the mutton."
Sansa's eyes widened, taking the Imp's joke seriously. "I am sorry, my lord."
"Why? Some cook should be sorry, not you. The pease are not your province, Sansa." The short man reasoned with the Stark-girl gently, raising a cup of red wine to his lips and taking a sip of the liquid. A period of awkward silence followed, but Sansa finally said softly, "I.. I am sorry that my lord husband is displeased."
Tyrion scoffed, "Any displeasure I'm feeling has naught to do with pease," He tried to lighten up the mood with the stony-faced girl. "I have Joffrey and my sister to displease me, and my lord father, and three hundred bloody Dorinishmen."
He had recently faced Prince Oberyn and his lords in a cornerfort looking directly at the city, far from the Tyrells as he could put them in, prohibiting them from the Red Keep sufficiently. There had been a brawl in a Flea Bottom pot-shop, leaving one Tyrell man-at-arms killed and two of Lord Gargalen's wounded, followed by an ugly little fight in the yard when Mace Tyrell's disturbed little mother called Ellaria Sand, "the serpent's whore." When Tyrion had managed to see Oberyn Martell, the prince, ask when his justice will be brought. Overcooked pease were such a measly concern compared to others.
"The pease suffice," Tyrion sighed. "They are green and round, what more could one expect of pease? Here, I'll have another serving, if it pleases my lady."
The Imp gestured for Podrick to deliver another hearty serving onto his plate. That was stupid, Tyrion scolded himself. Now I have to eat them all, or she'll be sorry all over again.
Again, silence fell. Wanting to break it, Tyrion placed his cup onto the table. He remembered seeing an odd circumstance outside in the skies only last night, perhaps Sansa would be interested to take part in the conversation. The quiet awkwardness was growing unbearable for Tyrion. He swallowed. "Did you happen to see the fallen star last night, my lady?"
Sansa's blue eyes flickered upwards, holding fear, but a twinge of interest. "Yes, my lord."
"A beautiful sight, wasn't it?"
"It was. It seemed to be even brighter than the other stars surrounding it." The young woman whispered. Sansa picked at her fingers under the table, trying to feign off her own feel of uncomfort. Again, the silence fell between them both, like it always had. After, Pod cleaned up the table, picking up cups and platters to be taken care of. Sansa had asked Tyrion if she could visit the Godswood to pray alone.
"As you wish." Tyrion became used to his new wife's religious activities. He observed that Sansa prayed at the royal sept too, often lighting candles to Mother, Maid, and Crone. Tyrion found the acts a little too much. But if he were in her shoes, he would have done the same. The Imp approached Sansa quietly as she was praying, saying, "I confess, I know little of the old gods," He was trying to be at ease, and pleasant with the young Stark-girl. "Perhaps someday you might enlighten me. I could even accompany you."
"No," Sansa immediately shot. "You.. you are kind to offer, but.. there are no devotions, my lord. No priests or songs or candles. Only trees, and silent prayer. You would be bored."
"No doubt you're right," Tyrion waved a hand carelessly. She knows me more than I thought. "Though the sound of rustling leaves might be a pleasant change from some septon droning on about the seven aspects of grace."
The Imp turned away, releasing a sigh. "I won't intrude. Dress warmly, my lady, the wind is brisk out there."
With that, Tyrion padded off, going back to work as a Lannister. Sitting alone within his own room, it wasn't long until the summons from his lord father entered. This was the first time Tyrion could recall being happy to see to Ser Boros Blount again. Tyrion shut the ledgers, blew out the oil lamp, tied a short cloak around his shoulders, then walked for the Tower of the Hand. As soon as he entered the Hand's solar, his mood turned sour. He found Cersei, Ser Kevan, and Grand Maester Pycelle sitting by Lord Tywin and the king. Joffrey was nearly bouncing off his heels, Cersei held a poisoned little smirk, and Lord Tywin looked unhappy as ever, adoring a mighty frown strewn across his face. I wonder if he could smile even if he wanted to.
"What's happened?" Tyrion inquired, his voice echoing throughout the room.
A roll of parchment was lifted towards him by his father. Tyrion took the piece, rolling it out to read silently to himself.
"Roslin caught a fine fat trout, her brothers gave her a pair of wolf pelts for her wedding."
Tyrion shifted it over to examine the broken seal. It was a silvery-grey color, imprinted into the wax was the twin towers of House Frey. "Does the Lord of the Crossing imagine he's being poetic? Or is this meant to confound us?" He snorted. "The trout would be Edmure Tully, the pelts.."
"He's dead!" The voice of Joffrey hollered, tone full of joy and a relieved, twisted happiness.
First Greyjoy and now Stark. Tyrion's thoughts dwelled over Sansa, who was currently praying to her Godswood. Praying to her father's gods to bring her brother victory, and to keep her mother safe no doubt. The old gods didn't answer as much as the new gods did.
"Kings are falling like leaves this autumn," Tyrion said. "It would seem our little war is winning itself."
"Wars do not win themselves, Tyrion," His sweet sister said with a smug venom. "Our lord father won this war."
"Nothing is won so long as we have enemies in the field." Lord Tywin cautioned. Gazes flickered from side to side, and the air seemed to grow muggy with doubt. Cersei's eyes shot to Tywin, and she argued, "The river lords are no fools. Without the northmen they cannot hope to stand against the combined power of Highgarden, Casterly Rock, and Dorne. Surely they will choose submission rather than destruction."
"Most," Her father agreed. "Riverrun remains, but so long as Walder Frey holds Edmure Tully hostage, the Blackfish dare not mount a threat. Jason Mallister and Tytos Blackwood will fight on for honor's sake, but the Freys can keep the Mallisters penned up at Seagard, and with the right inducement Jonos Bracken can be persuaded to change his allegiance and attack the Blackwoods. In the end they will bend the knee, yes. I mean to offer generous terms. Any castle that yields to us will be spared, save one."
"Harrenhal?" Questioned Tyrion, who had knowledge of his sire.
"The realm is best rid of these Brave Companions. I have commanded Ser Gregor to put the castle to the sword."
Tyrion remained silent, as he regarded his father's word. Gregor was a dangerous man, even more so than his younger brother. It seemed that his father wanted to have more use for the Mountain's might. Joffrey suddenly declared, "They should all be put to the sword!" All eyes were on the boy now. "The Mallisters and Blackwoods and Brackens.. all of them. They're traitors and I want them killed! I wont have any generous terms."
Joffrey then looked at Grand Maester Pycelle. "And I want Robb Stark's head too. Write to Lord Frey and tell him the king commands. I'm going to have it served to Sansa as my wedding feast." The golden haired boy cackled thereafter, grinning like the demonic little shit he was. Tyrion frowned.
"Sire," Ser Kevan interjected, his eyes wide with a shock. "The lady is now your aunt by marriage."
"A jest," Cersei said with a smile. "Joff did not mean it."
"Yes, I did." Joffrey growled. "He was a traitor, and I want his stupid head. I'm going to make Sansa kiss it."
Having enough of the king's awful actions and sayings, Tyrion said aloud, his voice haggard. "No. Sansa is no longer yours to torment. Understand that, monster."
Joffrey's eyes widened at the jab from the Imp, but then the boy sneered, "You're the monster, Uncle."
"Am I?" Tyrion questioned. "Perhaps you should speak more softly to me, then. Monsters are dangerous beasts, and just now kings seem to be dying like flies."
Joffrey hissed, his little fists clenched tightly. "I could have your tongue out for saying that," Joff's face reddened in rage. "I'm the king."
Cersei placed a protective hand on her son's left shoulder. "Let the dwarf make all the threats he likes, Joff. I want my lord father and my uncle to see what he is."
A fuming Joffrey glared directly at Tyrion, but the Imp only quirked a brow towards him and gave a gentle smirk. It was quite easy to get under the boy's skin sometimes. He throughly enjoyed the sight of a tomato-red, enraged, bastard born of incest. Tywin ignored Cersei's input to her son; he then said to the Imp, "Aerys also felt the need to remind men that he was king. And he was passing fond of ripping tongues out as well. You could ask Ser Ilyn Payne about that, though you'll get no reply."
Soon, the conversation devolved into matters concerning Margaery's maidenhood, with more stupid remarks from Joffrey, and the presence of Prince Oberyn. But then, it finally grew onto the the topic of the Red Wedding. They all have just gained knowledge of Robb and Cat's demise.
"So Lord Walder slew him under his own roof, at his own table?" Tyrion licked his lips, fists clenched. "What of Lady Catelyn?"
"Slain as well, I'd say. A pair of wolfskins. Frey had intended to keep her captive, but perhaps something went awry."
Tyrion pursed his lips. "So much for guest right."
"The blood is on Walder Frey's hands, not mine," Tywin stated bluntly.
"Walder Frey is a peevish old man who lives to fondle is young wife and brood over all the slights he's suffered. I have no doubt he hatched this ugly chicken, but he would never have dared such a thing without a promise of protection." Tyrion pointed out.
"I suppose you would have spared the boy and told Lady Frey you had no need of allegiance? That would have driven the old fool right back into Stark's arms and woo you another year of war. Explain to me why it is more noble to kill ten thousand men in battle than a dozen at dinner." Tyrion held no reply to that, and Tywin noticed this. He took the opportunity to continue. "The price was cheap by any measure. The crown shall grant Riverrun to Ser Emmon Frey once the Blackfish yields. Lancel and Daven must marry Frey girls, Joy is to wed one of Lord Walder's natural sons when she's old enough, and Roose Bolton becomes Warden of the North and takes home Arya Stark."
"Arya Stark?" The dwarf quirked a brow. "And Bolton? I might have known Frey would not have the stomach to act alone. But Arya.. Varys and Ser Jacelyn searched for her for more than half a year. Arya Stark is surely dead."
"So was Renly, until the Blackwater."
"What does that mean?"
Tywin regarded Tyrion a small while, before he answered. "Perhaps Littlefinger succeeded where you and Varys failed. Lord Bolton will wed the girl to his bastard son. We shall allow the Dreadfort to fight the ironborn for a few years, and see if he can bring Stark's other bannermen to heel. Come Spring, all of them should be at the end of their strength and ready to bend the knee. The North will go to your son by Sansa Stark.. if you ever find enough man-hood in you to breed one."
Joffrey smirked, and so did Cersei at Tywin's petty little remark regarding Tyrion. Tywin continued, "Lest you forget, it is not only Joffrey who must needs take a maidenhead."
Tyrion bit his lip. I had not forgotten, though I'd hoped you had. He wanted to say. Tywin then questioned the Imp. "And when do you imagine Sansa will be at her most fertile?"
The Imp then asked his father in turn, his tone laced in pure venom that seemed to burn in his words. "Before, or after I tell her how we murdered her mother and her brother?"
North of the Wall
It seemingly grew darker with every step he took. Artoo continued to roll through the snow, rolling his domed head back to check if young Skywalker was still following him. Types of trees that were unknown to him filled the forest to the brim, the branches making a maze of darkening greys and white. Suddenly, he heard a odd noise similar to a croak sound above. Skywalker's eyes shot towards where the sound was, and he found a peculiar little creature sitting on a branch a few meters up. It looked to be avian, and Luke tilted his head in curiosity. The bird's beak clicked a few times, and again, it cawed. An innocent smile formed on Luke's reddened face, and he said to the Droid, "Artoo, look at that! Dunno what it looks like, but it seems like a bird."
Artoo chirped, spinning his snow-covered head to observe the raven. The avian's talons shifted on the stick which it stood upon, beating it's jet-black wings. Luke bit his lip, as the bird's cawing seemingly grew more louder and hysteric. The creature flapped its wings erratically, and Luke whispered to Artoo quietly, not bringing his eyes off of the crazed raven.
"Hey, mind scanning for any more lifeforms?"
Artoo trilled an affirmative, and began to rotate his domed head clockwise, using his photoreceptor to scan the snow and area around them. The Droid then beeped twice, informing Luke that nothing was found. Okay.. that's weird. Luke thought to himself. Anxiety wormed inside him, and he reached out into the Force, focusing himself, trying his best to ignore the screaming of the bird. His chest rose and fell slowly as he extended his senses.
A scamper in the bush, followed by footsteps one could barely hear. His eyes shot open. The young, inexperienced Jedi then saw the bird croak one last time, taking off and gliding into the shadows. A shivering intake of breath resonated from Skywalker, and his hand shot to his 'saber. He swallowed, carefully taking the sheathed weapon from his waistbelt. The 'click' echoed, and Luke whispered again to Artoo, "Don't move."
Artoo didn't need to sound a reply, and he stopped rolling on his pedes. Luke used a finger to unsheathe his Lightsaber, and the brilliant rod of blue light emerged from the hilt. He stood in the snow, and noticed that several flakes began to fall. "Come out! I won't harm you!" The boy called to the unknown.
The same pair of blue eyes appeared before him. Skywalker's eyes met with the glowing pair before him only meters away, and he could barely see a faint outline within the shadows of the wood. It looked to be human, but he gave no chances for what it was. Again, the Force that began to surround the Force Sensitive changed, casting a murky, icy feeling upon him. A high-pitched, nearly whistling growl emerged before him. Luke's right foot shifted in the snow, raising his Lightsaber in a defensive position. Suddenly, the thing launched towards him. It screeched aloud, the unholy sound nearly shattering Skywalker's eardrums to pieces. A sharp intake of breath, as he realized that this was something, or someone, entirely bizarre and inhuman. Its bony claws for hands were outstretched towards him, its skin entirely made out of pure white with hues of blue to match it's wild, luminous glow for eyes. Pieces of flesh were ripped, and the foul stink death filled Skywalker's nostrils.
Artoo sounded a screaming trill, but Luke quickly raised his Lightsaber in efficient time to ward off his stalker. Plasma found refuge in bone and decaying white flesh of its chest, and the thing released a guttural scream as the 'saber hissed in response. Horrified, but not shaken, Luke wrenched his weapon free of the creature's pale skin. Skywalker stumbled away from the terrifying creature, quickly pressing a button to sheathe his 'saber. The thing's exposed, bony hands twitched a few times, before they stopped moving completely. He didn't realize he was hyperventilating until a few seconds passed after.
Luke gasped, puffs of air expelled from both his mouth and nose. He trembled, adrenaline and terror still coursing through him, still fresh even though it was dead. He sheathed his 'saber, and the weapon released a dull 'hiss.' His mind was blurred, as he still tried to process the entire occurrence as to what actually happened. This was must he had felt when he exited the Falcon. Luke remembered the luminous glow of the blue eyes that stared him down. He remembered the bird, which he realized that the avian was actually trying to warn him? Whatever planet they crash-landed on, they needed to get the kriff out. He knew that much.
For good measure, Skywalker daring lifted his boot to poke at the monster's white-haired head. No response was given. It was a corpse now, and yet before when Luke had managed to capture a good look at him, it appeared to be a rotting, living creature! How could even this be? Luke had saw many things in the Galaxy, but this? This was certainly not possible, whatsoever. Yet, Luke thought grimly, the Galaxy held many surprises.
He was deaf to the shocked sounds that Artoo expelled, and Skywalker took one last look at the thing. He needed to get back to the Falcon now. Without waiting for Artoo, Luke said, "Come on Artoo, I think I've had enough adventures. Let's go back." Artoo whistled after him, but Luke gave no regard.
Fueled by a growing, hysteric panic to not confront one of those things again, Luke's walk then turned into jogging, then to running. Skywalker galloped through the snow, and it tossed by his feet. He didn't even know where he was going. It was not long before his calves screamed for Luke to cease his movements, but the young boy noticed that the trees began to thin. His heart leapt, quickening his pace. Hands brushing by branches from his face, he finally emerged from the wood. He heard the trills of Artoo behind him, but he didn't pay any attention to the Astromech. He stopped in his tracks entirely.
Luke's eyes were glued to what was in front of him. They were filled in absolute wonder.
It towered over him, a Wall entirely made of pure, thick ice. Seven hundred feet tall, and standing hundreds of meters away, Skywalker's eyes widened at the impressive sight. Before him was a huge clearing, a blanket of pure white. Yet, his blue eyes still clung to the imposing sight. It was taller than any Imperial AT-AT. Probably even bigger and longer than an Imperial Star Destroyer.
Luke held absolutely no idea what he was getting himself into.