Blessed of the Morning [ASOIAF/GOT Gamer/Redo Fic]
Blurb: Edric Dayne woke up after he was killed by Lady Stoneheart. Suddenly he was young again, full of knowledge, and touched by the gods. How will he use the knowledge and blessings to make things right?
A/N: Character Ages – As I am not comfortable writing about 12 and 13 year olds getting married, I have decided to increase the ages for most of the characters from the books and even in some cases the show. At the beginning of my story, Robb and Jon are 17. Dany is 16. Joffrey and Sansa are 15. Edric is 14. and Arya 12. I am not going to deal with how this should change the dates of the Tourney at Harrenhal and Robert's Rebellion. It probably does, but it will not come up.
Chapter 1
"Why does it smell so bad?" Ned asked.
"Because of all the crap that comes out of the Red Keep?" his mentor, Lord Beric Dondarrion quipped. Beric was a handsome young man, with red-gold hair and a slim build that belied the strength of his arm. He was dressed stylishly as always, a black satin doublet luxurious under his lightning-embossed breastplate. He grinned at his squire and future nephew. "Say what you will about the stench, don't let it keep you away. King's Landing is the heart of the Seven Kingdoms. You or I may prefer the quiet appeal of the Dornish desserts or the rough majesty of the Stormlands, but nowhere else will you find the sheer variety of delightful oddities that can be seen in the capitol."
"Do you include the Court among those oddities?" asked Ser Criston Cole, Beric's master-at-arms. He was a large man with grey-streaked black hair and a full beard. He wore the Dondarrion forked lightning sigil on his tabard and carried the Cole's ten black dots on his red shield. The wry smile he wore showed his fondness for his young lord.
"Far be it from me to indulge in lèse-majesté," Beric retorted, "but have you seen some of the people the King and Queen keep near them?"
"Varys?" Ser Criston offered.
"The Imp?" Beric countered.
"The Hound?" Ned added. His long pale blond hair was tied back with a braided leather band made for him by his aunt. He was a stocky boy, easily the size of the men around him though his face showed his youth. Lord Edric Dayne of Starfall, known to all as Ned, had been Beric's squire for four years. In the last nine months, he had grown like a weed adding breadth to his shoulders and chest, as well as height to his form. He proudly wore his new suit of plate that he had helped forge while working part-time with the smiths of Blackhaven castle.
"When have you ever seen the Hound?" Ser Criston mocked. "This is your first time this far north, I think. I know you've never been to the Westerlands."
Images raced through Ned's mind. Of the Hound fighting a wasted Beric in a cave. Of Ned's lord wielding a flaming sword. Of the tall, scar-faced man running his own dull steel blade through Dondarrion's empty belly and Beric falling to the ground, dead. Memories of an earlier life, a prior disaster that the Seven had allowed him a second chance to fix. "I … I've heard rumors." Ned answered quietly.
"Well, the rumors understate the truth," the older knight guffawed. "The man has a face to curdle milk."
While the two men continued to banter, Ned slowed his destrier and moved to the back of the party. Twenty-five armsmen on horse and a few servants riding the cart loaded with the expedition's gear passed him. Several other groups crowded the Roseroad as it neared the capitol. They were allowing Ned's party a surfeit of space, in respect of the two banners they were flying – Dondarrion and Dayne.
Ned remembered all this happening before, in an earlier life. He recalled the events of the tourney and the troubles that followed. Troubles that had shattered his world – the Hand resigning and being attacked by the Kingslayer, the raids on the Riverlands and Beric riding in response, and the death of the King sparking a civil war. He vowed to work to avoid the worst of his past life and stave off the disasters that cost so many lives. He just wasn't sure the blessings the Seven had given him would be enough.
As he rode towards his destiny, Ned recalled how it had all begun.
# # # # #
On the first day of the year – Mother's Morn and his fourteenth name day – he had woken in his bed in Blackhaven. It was a shock because the memory immediately before his awakening had been his death – strung up by Lady Stoneheart. A bitter betrayal, as she had been raised from the corpse of Catelyn Stark through the final sacrifice of his beloved master, Beric Dondarrion.
The Seven had decided to use Ned's death to rewrite history. They even told him how he would be their tool.
Upon waking, the young squire had recognized his old room. He stumbled to his feet and out into the corridor. When he found Beric in the great hall, breaking his fast, Ned rushed to embrace him. This was the young, carefree lord he had not seen since Mummer's Ford. Beric returned the hug, somewhat bemused, but assuming Ned's effusions were caused by holiday cheer. The displaced teen had spent the holy day trying to convince himself either this peaceful scene was the dream or the cataclysmic past he so vividly remembered had been a nightmare.
When he went to bed that night, he had immediately been pulled into a vision. He was in a vast hall; with a ceiling so high, it looked to hold the dome of stars, and a round table with a great tome in front of the single chair. Across the table, shrouded in shadow, were seven figures.
"Sit, Lord Dayne," commanded the central figure in a deep masculine voice.
"You have died," said a sepulchral voice from the far right.
"Yet we have saved you," uttered a light feminine voice from the far left.
"To be our tool," declared a rough growl from the left.
"To use our blessings," croaked a feeble voice.
"To save this world," proclaimed a matronly voice.
"Read the book and make your choices," barked a martial voice.
Ned sat and reached for the tome. It looked like something from Maester Theo's library, leather bound with brass hinges and locks. On the cover, in burnished metals, was a mosaic portrait of his own face. He looked up from the book only to find all light but the one over the table gone. He could see nothing but the book and the stars above.
"The Blessings of the Seven" was written on the first page.
On the second was "Know Yourself".
He spent that night and every night that he slept studying the Book of Blessings, learning more about himself and making choices about his new life.
# # # # #
"Ned!" Beric's voice drew him out of his memories and recalled him to a more prosaic reality. They had almost arrived at the Blackwater Rush, the river that provided the southern border of the capitol. Across the crowded water was the River Gate, one of the seven gates of the city. No bridge spanned the Blackwater.
"Find us passage across," Beric ordered. Ned never thought to complain. This was the sort of task any knight might expect from his squire, lord or not. Ser Criston made a subtle gesture towards a ferry docked at a pier. The young squire had noticed the traffic moving onto the conveyance already, but he appreciated the older knight's kindness.
Loading twenty-eight armored men and horses along with a loaded cart and its team of four onto a floating platform in a rushing river was not a task to leave unsupervised, so Ned spent the next several minutes making sure nothing was left behind and no one ended up in the water. He saw Beric smiling and Ser Criston nodding in approval once the ferry was underway.
"When we get to the other side, I'll take the men and gear through the city to the King's Gate and on to the tourney grounds." Ser Criston looked at the crowded road along the busy docks outside the wall. Ned agreed there was no way he could maneuver the party through that chaos. "I only hope it's less busy inside. Once we're there we'll set up camp. I'll try to get a good spot, near the other Stormlanders. But who knows who we'll have to bribe to secure a prime location or how much they'll be asking."
"Do your best," Beric commiserated. "Send a message to the Red Keep when you're settled. It's getting late so I doubt we'll be out tonight, but we'll come down tomorrow early. Ned has to get us signed up for the events. Are you sure you don't want to compete in the joust?"
"I'm more interested in the melee," Ser Criston grinned. "More my style. Never really cared for the lance."
"And you, Ned," Beric turned to him, concern evident on his face. "Are you certain you want to compete in both the joust and the melee? While you have made incredible progress in your training this past year, and you did very well in the Warrior's Day Tourney, here you'll be facing the best in the land – Ser Barristan, the Kingslayer, the Knight of Flowers, the Cleganes. You're still a lad – growing well, but still full young. Maybe try just the melee, or if you're determined to joust, just concentrate on that."
Ned knew something that Beric did not. The Seven's blessings allowed him to exceed normal human limits. While he was still only four and ten in years old, he had strength and skill far exceeding any in their party. He kept this quiet, not wanting to show up his mentors. He needed to find greater challenges in order to keep growing. He hoped those Beric had named, and others of their rarified levels, would provide that challenge. He also needed the notoriety performing well would garner him. Ned had a plan to begin shaping this future to be better than the old one.
For that plan to succeed, Ned needed to catch the King's eye.
What little he knew of Robert told him that excelling in combat was the best way to gain his attention. Competing in both events would give him two chances of victory, or at least a showy performance. Should he do well in both, so much the better.
"I appreciate your concern," Ned replied, laying a hand on Beric's arm. "But I am determined. If I should be exhausted in the joust, or injured, I will refrain from the melee."
"Very well," the Lighting Lord said. "You and I will be staying in the Red Keep. It's likely to be so crowded with lords from all over the kingdoms that we may end up envying Ser Criston and the guards for their roomy tents."
"You may, at that," the old knight agreed amiably. "Not spent much time in the Keep. Didn't much care for what I saw there. Still, if you feel you may need some loyal blades …"
"The Court has its many dangers," Beric said, "but most of them are not the type you need a blade to counter. For those that do, I think I and my squire will be enough, should the need arise."
"As you say, m'lord," Ser Criston acceded. "As you say."
The city was crowded with visitors for the tourney. Ned spotted several familiar sigils on surcoats and banners as they approached the Keep – Redwyne and Royce, Mertyns and Wyl, and so many Freys. They waited patiently as a steward checked each group against a list. Some were disappointed to find they were not of high enough social standing, or were too far out of royal favor, to be on the list. Only two of the many Freys were allowed entrance. Knowing the inns in the city were all full, Ned silently wished them luck in finding lodgings at this late date.
It was with no little trepidation that Ned announced Lord Dondarrion and himself, Lord Dayne, to the harried official. If there's been some change from my last time through this time, we might soon be joining Ser Criston and our men in the tents, Ned thought
"You have been placed in the Maidenvault," the thin, pock-faced man read. He motioned for a page.
"I'm not sure whether to be offended by that, or amused," Beric quipped with a smile.
"No offense intended, I assure you, my Lord." The steward replied seriously.
"No, I'm sure. And none taken," the Lightning Lord replied more formally. If this factotum had ever had a sense of humor, it had been lost in the ocean of official minutia in which he was drowning.
"Please follow the boy to your assigned rooms." The man turned to the next group without waiting for a reply.
The page led the pair through the gates and courtyards, past the sables where they surrendered their horses, to a long keep with a slate roof tucked in behind the Royal Sept. The Maidenvault had been built to hold a group of royal sisters in virtuous isolation. It had been used as a guest's quarters for centuries. Now it was crowded for the tourney, with important people crammed in several to the room. Minor lords were offered comfortable pallets on the great hall floor. They chose to put up with the indignity and discomfort to be close to the happening at the royal court.
Ned and his knight were lucky enough, or important enough, to rate a small room on an upper story.
"I'll take the floor," the squire offered when he saw the single narrow bed.
"Yes, you will," Beric agreed.
The two travelers helped each other divest themselves of their armor. Important to be prepared for unexpected combat on the road, but as Beric had pointed out – the dangers in the Red Keep were not ones that usually required plate and shield.
After dressing in more courtly attire, they made their way out of the tiny room, only to be accosted in the hallway.
"My Lord of Blackhaven," called a friendly voice from the corridor behind them. Ned turned to spy a dark-haired man of Beric's age wearing a yellow tunic covered with black birds. Beric rushed to embrace him.
"My Lord of Nightsong! I'd hoped you might be here." Beric pounded the back of his fellow marcher lord. He and Bryce Caron were of an age and had both inherited their titles far too young, though neither so young as Ned had.
"Little Lord Ned, is that you?" Lord Caron cried as he turned to the squire. "What happened? Did you eat a bear?"
Ned smiled because he was now taller than the marcher lord. "The Mother has been kind to me this year."
"And the Warrior and the Smith too, by the looks of it." He said, squeezing Ned's muscular arm. "The question is, has the Maiden drawn the eyes of the ladies to you. You look set to cut quite the swath amongst the fair ones."
Ned blushed. Since his return he had grown at an unheard of rate. From barely five feet and slim he was now more than six and a half feet tall with a powerful body, lithe and muscular. His pale bond hair grew past his shoulders and his deep blue eyes were often confused for purple. While his body was that of a man grown, he retained his youthful face. The growth, along with his accomplishments in the training yard and the Maester's study along with his rapid healing of wounds were seen by the denizens of Blackhaven as miraculous. They had taken to calling him Ned the Blessed.
"'Tis too true." Beric reached up to ruffle Ned's hair. "The lad's growing, and the ladies are noticing."
Ladies, and smallfolk women, had started paying attention to him since his growth slowed. This was not something with which he was familiar, even in his prior life. Ned had no idea how to deal with the offers in their eyes but was growing more and more interested in finding out what those offers promised.
"Is he betrothed?" Lord Caron asked. Ned quickly reviewed what he knew of the Caron family. He had no sisters, the squire remembered with relief. Lord Caron was matched with a daughter of Lord Randyll Tarly if he recalled correctly.
"Not as yet," Beric replied. "Though his aunt is beginning to get inquiries. I think Prince Doran may have some ideas as well."
"What?" Ned's eyes widened. This was the first he had heard of either of those things.
The two older lords laughed.
"This is your chance then," Lord Caron offered as he placed an arm around the younger man's shoulder and steered him towards the stairs. "While knights and lords may think of these tourneys as opportunities to demonstrate their valor and skill at arms, ladies look to these gatherings as markets where men may be perused, inspected, and if ripe enough, taken home. Keep your eyes open. Men do have some influence on the process. If you spy some lady that interests you, let us know and we'll advise you on the best way to proceed."
Nightsong was one of Starfall's nearer neighbors. The closest one in the Stormlands. Ned decided it would behoove him to build friendly relations with the flighty young lord. "Thank you," he said. "I'll look to you for guidance in this."
"Am I thus to be thrown over for a fresh face?" Beric dramatically lamented.
"I, of course, meant the both of you," Ned assured him. "Though to discover you have been conspiring with Aunt Allyria …" He trailed off, shaking his head mournfully.
The two older men laughed. Ned hope it was at his joke rather than at the fear in his eyes. Together, the three went down to the great hall and found that a light dinner was being served informally. Ned stayed quiet as the two friends shared what had happened in their lives since they had last met. He spent his time looking around the hall and thinking about his plans to stop the upcoming war.
There were several important events that he thought led inexorably to the conflict in the Riverlands and beyond. Lady Stark's taking Tyrion Lannister captive was the first. Ned wanted to get to the Crossroads in time to prevent that meeting. The Seven had even offered him a quest to prevent Tyrion from being captured. Unfortunately, Darry was more than a hundred and fifty leagues from King's Landing, and the fateful encounter took place barely a week before the Hand's Tourney. There was no way Ned could have been at the Crossroads and made it to the tourney. He would have been hard pressed to make it to King's Landing before the King's hunting trip began. So, he had decided to leave that event to happen as fated.
Instead Ned had chosen to attend the tourney, as he had in the original timeline, though this time he intended to compete. Ser Gregor's raiding campaign was the next event that led to the war. The reborn lord hoped to prevent that. He could not stop the Warden of the West from sending troops. But if Ned could deprive that force of the Mountain's vile leadership, they might be less vicious and bloodthirsty. The squire hoped to save some lives, Beric's among them.
Ned's main goal was to avert the King's death on the hunt. If Robert lived, there would be no war to fill his throne. To achieve that, Ned needed to either prevent the hunting trip entirely, or to save the King from the boar. Then the issue of the royal children's parentage and the claims made by the Baratheon brothers could be addressed at leisure.
With that plan in mind, Ned spent the last ten months training heavily in arms, riding, hunting, jousting, and court etiquette. He had studied the history of Robert's Rebellion and his reign, as well as the houses he remembered playing important roles in the war hopefully NOT to come – Baratheon, Lannister, Stark, Greyjoy, Tully, Tyrell, Frey, Bolton, Targaryen, and many others.
Now that Ned was in place, he was nervous, but not afraid. With the Seven's Blessings, he knew that eventually he would succeed.
A/N: Gamer Build
The Gamer elements of the story will be mostly hidden. Occasionally when Ned sleeps, he will be called in front of the Seven where he can read the Book of Edric to know himself and will be offered choices to shape his destiny - picking perks and distributing stat points. Leveling will be like in Skyrim, where he improves skills based on usage. For every ten skill increases he goes up a level and is offered three stat points to distribute. Every fifth level his is offered a Perk choice. He will also receive quest choices in his dreams. Quest rewards may include stat increases, perks, and items. Ned will not know the in-game mechanics, only possible effects on the world.
I will occasionally put his build in notes at the end of chapters, but only when there has been significant progress.
Name: Lord Edric "Ned" Dayne, Lord of Starfall
Lvl: 20
STR: 22
VIT: 18
DEX: 18
INT: 16
WIS: 14
CHA: 14
HP: 290
SP: 430
MP:*
DR: 7
Perks:
Blessed Body – Your body is blessed by the Seven to feel less pain, heal overnight, improve at unnatural rate, and maintain all improvements with little effort. Requires significantly less sleep, food, and drink.
Blessed Mind – The Seven protect you from all mental interference and lessen negative emotions. You learn at an unnatural rate and maintain all learned skills with little effort.
Blessed Visions – You retain memories of a possible future seen in visions granted by the Seven. When you sleep, even occasionally when you are awake, you are granted visions that allow you to shape your growth and to select quests to affect your future fate.
Blessed Holdings – Your packs, bags, and purses carry much more than they should, and you always have whatever item you need at hand.
Blessed Insight – Whenever you see someone, you can choose to know their name and relative danger to you. If you concentrate, you will learn more about them. You have also become an uncanny judge of the craftsmanship and history of items.
Born a Lord – You are head of an established ruling family. You control a large holding and a sizable castle w/town. You have vassal knights with smaller holdings on your lands. You have wealth, social standing, and regular income, as well as responsibilities to your Lord Paramount.
Handsome Child – Your face and form are pleasing to those that behold you. They are more likely to look favorably upon you because of this. As you age, your face will always look youthful. This is not always a good thing.
Combat Reflexes – You are faster in combat, can dodge or defend more easily, are harder to surprise, and almost always get the first opportunity for attack.
Toughness – Your body can withstand damage as if you were wearing light leather armor. [+5 DR]. Slightly reduces your sense of touch.
Legendary Strength – Your strength grows beyond the limits of normal men. [Allows purchase of STR beyond 20. Points over 20 cost x2.]
A Man Grown – Despite your young age, your body is that of an adult man. People will treat you as if you are an adult.
Skills: [1-100pts] + [Stat] = Skill
Scale: 1-20 = Novice, 21-50 = Professional, 51-70 = Expert, 71-90 = Master, 91-100+ = Legend
Novice Lvl -
Carousing [VIT] – 19
Diplomacy [CHA] – 15
Fast-Talk [CHA] – 15
Gambling [WIS] – 15
Lockpicking [DEX] – 15
Professional Lvl -
Agriculture [INT] – 26
Area Knowledge: Planetos [INT] – 21
Area Knowledge: Blackhaven [INT] – 31
Area Knowledge: Dorne [INT] – 31
Area Knowledge: Riverlands [INT] – 26
Area Knowledge: Starfall [INT] – 41
Area Knowledge: Westeros [INT] – 46
Ax/Mace [STR] – 32
Bard [CHA] – 24
Bow [DEX] – 43
Conversation [CHA] – 24
Economics [INT] – 26
Etiquette [CHA] – 29
Heavy Armor [STR] – 38
History [INT] – 31
Hunting [WIS] – 24
Knife [DEX] – 33
Leadership [CHA] – 24
Light Armor [VIT] – 28
Logistics [INT] – 21
Medicine [INT] – 26
Naturalist [INT] – 21
Navigation [INT] – 26
Observe [INT] – 22
Politics [INT] – 36
Running [VIT] – 28
Shield [DEX] – 48
Smithing [STR] – 32
Stealth [DEX] – 28
Strategy [INT] – 21
Survival [WIS] – 29
Tactics [INT] – 36
Unarmed Combat [VIT] – 28
Expert Lvl -
Riding [DEX] – 53
Sword [DEX] – 63
Master Lvl -
Lance [STR] – 77
