Old Gods, New Gods and Greek Gods
All rights reserved by George R.R. Martin and Sony.
Summary: After stabbing himself with the Blade of Olympus and throwing himself from the cliff where he had slain Zeus, Kratos falls through the branches of Yggdrasil. He lands in a land of ice and fire, where kings and lords rule the land. What will Westeros do with a man with the power of gods while the threat of the White Walkers looms in the north and one man is needed to lead them against the creatures of myths and legends? Rated M, what else could GoT be?
Chapter 1 ~ The Stranger from the Tree
The world was in chaos. Storms ripped the apart the very earth while the oceans swallowed the land. No sun could be seen through the dark clouds and souls cried out for help. The living had no land to live in, but the dead had no underworld to go to either. Among the chaos, on the top of Mount Olympus, one man was lying on the cold stone. His skin was as white as ashes and red stripes marked his face, arms and chest. This was the man who had accomplished the impossible. The man who had killed the gods and ripped the world apart in the process.
Kratos spat out a mouth full of blood. He looked to the side where the blade of Olympus was lying, still covered in his own blood. His other weapons where thrown in pile next to the bloody corpse of Zeus, the now former King of Olympus. Athena was nowhere to be seen. His hands felt something wet and he looked down. A pool of blood was surrounding him, its origin the gaping hole in his upper body. The Spartan grunted as he felt the wound closing and cursed loudly. Normally he would have cursed at the gods, but he hadn't left any alive to isult.
The Ghost of Sparta had only wanted it to end. He was done with the gods, with the fighting and war; he had his revenge. Yet he had been denied release. But he wasn't ready to give up. If his own power in the Blade of Olympus would not be enough to end him, maybe the combined raging power of nature without any gods to control it would be?
Unable to lift himself up with the wound in his torso weakening him, Kratos crawled to the edge of the cliff and looked down. At the bottom was a gigantic maelstrom where he had thrown the body of Poseidon into his own domain. The world had hope now, he gave it to it after all, but what had this world left to give him?
"Nothing," thought Kratos and with a grunt he hurled himself over the cliff.
The wind screamed into his ears and as the gaping maw in the water reached him the God of War closed his eyes. But to his surprise and rising irritation death didn't come for him. He almost expected invisible hands to lift him out of the water and raise him up to Mount Olympus again. Instead of hitting the bottom of the whirlpool under him however, he continued to fall through it's center, never reaching the ground.
Darkness covered his eyes and Kratos almost thought that he had finally succeeded until suddenly light blinded him. He opened his eyes and saw something that looked like monstrous tree branches coming towards him. Its wood was as white as bone and blue mist and glowing crystals of the same color gave it an eery glow. The branches where so thick that a man could easily walk on them.
Kratos continued to fall like a stone, leaving behind a stream of blood in the air. For a moment he thought he would slam into one of the branches, but he missed them narrowly. He continued to fall into the colorless mist next to the tree trunk and suddenly he felt something new. He felt as if his body, his entire being, was beginning to dissolve into nothing. It felt as if the skin was being melted from his flesh while he was slowly being crushed by an unseen force.
From one moment to another the feeling stopped as Kratos was slammed into something with great velocity. A low hanging branch had caught his fall, in fact it seemed to be the absolute lowest of all the possible branches of the tree. The impact shook him hard, but before Kratos could make an effort to get up, a blinding blue light flared up in front of him. A blue flash took his vision and Kratos knew to more.
Images flashed in front of Kratos' eyes. He saw strange places, huge buildings made of stone. He saw battles flashing in front of him and mountains erupting in a cataclysmic fire. He saw creatures with wings flying trough the air and bringing destruction with a breath of fire. Next was a great wall made of what appeared to be nothing but ice and a wolf howling on top of it. A lion and a stag joined the wolf and the three animals began to circle each other. The scene changed again and Kratos saw another white tree, this time with red leafs instead of glowing blue crystals and with a face edged into it. Suddenly a cloud of dark fog stinking of rotting flesh appeared on the horizon. A flash of fire and something Kratos easily recognized was before his eyes.
How would he ever be able to forget the Blades of Chaos, two short and jagged swords hanging from chains and bathed in hellish fire. They weren't the Blades of Exile he had when he killed his father Zeus nor any other similar version of blades he had over the years. No these were the originals, tools of destruction gifted to him by Ares, the former God of War.
Next where rapidly changing faces he didn't recognize. They were blending into each other, seemingly normal faces of different people of different ages and genders with only one standing out. That one had no face only a hood and dark shadow where the face should have been. He also saw a something that could be descried as two eyes floating in nothing but smoke while burning like tiny suns.
Lastly he saw an unfamiliar weapon. It was an axe, a dark silver blade attached to a long wooden handle. Runes Kratos couldn't read where edged into it. Suddenly ice enveloped the strange axe and Kratos watched as the ice began to spread. It reached his position and began to cover his body. He couldn't move a muscle and try to break free as the ice spread of his face and his vision darkened yet again.
A low muttering sound could be heard from the godswood in Winterfell. It was a rather warm day, still cold for any southerner mind you, but here in the North a day with no snow falling and the sun showing through the grey clouds on occasion was considered warm. Ned Starks form was kneeling in front of the face of the heart tree in the middle of his ancestral keep's godswood. Next to him was small pond with red leafs covering its shore and the surrounding grounds.
The Warden of the North breathed in deeply and felt a sense of serenity wash over him. He liked to go here just to relax from his lordly duties for a while, since the presence of weirwood trees always gave him a feeling of calmness he could never achieve while worrying over the many citizens of the North who where looking at him for leadership.
Only a short few days ago Maester Luwin had confirmed Catelyn's third pregnancy. After having already gifted Ned with a strong son and a beautiful daughter, he prayed to the old gods that this one would be as healthy as the others. Soon enough the summer would be over and since he was already praying, Ned thought he might as well ask the gods to hold the winter off for a little longer. But he knew that would be of no use. Winter was coming, it always came sooner or later. He just prayed that his children would always be protected during the years to come.
Ned Stark breathed and sat down at the side of the pond. Suddenly he felt something. A rumble. A tremor. The surface of the water rippled as if someone had thrown a pebble into it. Ned stood up and stared at the pond astonished. The invisible pebble turned into a small rock and then into a whole stone brick and soon the pond was boiling over.
CRACK!
Ned whirled around, hand on a sword, that wasn't there and he cursed. He was about to call for his guards, who stationed at the entrance of the godswood, when all words left his mouth. The Warden of North stood there, gaping.
He would have never believed it if someone else would have told him, but before his very eyes the heart tree opened. As if hit by an axe, the wood split open on its own. The face carved into the tree groaned and the mouth split open.
To Ned's astonishment something came out. Or rather someone. In a pool of blood a body slammed in front of him into the ground. He was scarcely dressed, only some kind of reddish skirt around his hips and golden plates on his right arm as well as sandals on hi feet. He was tall, taller and more muscular than any other man Ned had ever seen and had no hair besides a little bit of a black beard on his chin. A warriors body, no doubt. Ned immediately hurried to his side and knelt next to him. The strangers skin was ghostly pale and beside all the blood strange markings covered parts of his body. Ned reached out with his hand but jerked it back when he realized what kind of wound the stranger had. Through the blood oozing out of it it was hard to see, but the man had a gaping hole going all the way through his torso.
Ned grimaced, as there would be no way of saving him. He jumped back in surprise when the man grunted and jerked his hand. His eyes where still closed and he didn't seem truly conscious. On the hand Ned was nearly thinking he was dreaming when the gods apparently weren't done yet. He watched as the wound seemingly slowly closed itself. It wasn't much and it was a slow process, but after some time the flesh would regrow.
When Ned finally found his wits again he screamed "Guards!" and only seconds after that a group of six men came running in, dressed in armor bearing the sigil of the direwolf. They had drawn their swords and where looking around until they found him. He complimented the men's quick reaction to his call in his mind, but for now they had more important things.
"My Lord, what happened here? Who is that man?" asked Rodrik Cassel worriedly.
"I am uncertain," answered Ned "he came out of the heart tree, already bloodied as he is."
Rodrik raised his eyebrows and sheathed his sword. "Forgive me, Lord Stark, but did you just say that he came out of the heart tree?"
Looking down Ned said "No matter, we have to get him to Measter Luwin quickly!"
A two men stepped forward to grab the grab the pale warrior, when something else came out of the heart tree's face's mouth. With a loud rattle a set of two short, but rather wide swords attached to chains fell out of the dark hole. They had a strange texture, almost like stone and very jagged edges. Next to them, a huge axe slammed to the ground, its blade stuck in the ground. It was beautifully crafted, and symbols as mysterious as everything else on this day. After the weapons came out the tree's mouth closed, every ridge sealed and not even a hint of an opening could be seen on its bark.
The guards were left wordless and stunned and Ned had to repeat his order.
"Get him inside to Maester Luwin. And collect these weapons," said the Lord of Winterfell.
"At once my Lord," said Rodrik and gestured to the men. Four of them where needed to lift the stranger up. Another one collected the swords while Rodrik was left to pick up the axe. The men carrying the pale warrior grunted under the strain.
"By the gods, this man is bigger than the Greatjon! Perhaps even bigger than The Mountain, my Lord," muttered Rodrik to Ned while the two men inspected the axe curiously as they walked to the Maesters chamber as a group. They attracted a lot of attention as they walked through Winterfell, the servants heads following them from everywhere.
"By the Seven, Ned what happened?" asked a voice and Ned saw his wife hurrying over to them.
"I am not quite sure, Catelyn. I swear I will tell you everything later, but for now we have to get him to Maester Luwin," answered Ned in a hushed tone. "Where are Robb and Sansa?" he asked.
"Old Nan is watching them at them moment. Most likely telling them some of her horrible stories of magics and legends," said Catelyn and ran a hand through her red hair.
"After today she might have another story to tell them," muttered Ned just before they reached the Maesters door.
They went inside without so much as a knock and Maester Luwin looked up from a raven with a message attached to its leg. "My Lord?" he asked but his eyes widened when he saw the pale man they where bringing him. The old man rushed to clear off a nearby table, his chains rattling as he swiped some parchment to the side. The guards lowered the stranger to the table and the balding Maester began his work.
"Incredible," he breathed out. "Such a wound should kill any man and is way beyond my capabilities, but he still lives. As we speak the flesh is mending itself together and blood seems to be constantly being replenished. If not his wounds, the blood loss should have long since finished him, my Lord," said Maester Luwin.
He seemed to ponder for a moment. "There are tellings and rumors of such things happening, but I would have never thought them to be true Lord Stark."
"Where did you hear about such wonders?" asked Ned, while Catelyn looked suspiciously at the healing wound.
"It is said, Lord Stark, that some followers of the so called Lord of Light R'hllor have this kind of power," the wise man said.
Rodrik and the guard carrying the weapons laid them down at the wall while Ned said "I doubt that he is one of them, Luwin. He came out of the weirwood tree." He then proceeded to retell the happenings of this strange day to the Maester, his wife and all the others. He kept the guards within the room for safety in case the stranger woke up, but sent one of them outside to inform everyone that there was no need to be worried.
It took over an hour for the wound to fully close while the group watched on with great interest. Then suddenly, the man grunted and breathed in for the first time. One guard took a tensed step forward, wood planks creaking under his foot. One twitch of the stranger head in the direction was all the warning they got, when the mans arm shot out like a viper and he sat up.
"WHERE AM I?" he roared loudly, eyes wide open, one hand around the guards throat.
In the time they took to draw there swords and Ned stepped protectively in front of Catelyn, the stranger had lifted the guard up by his neck without so much as looking as if the act took any effort while still sitting on the table.
"Let him down!" called Ned loudly. The man looked around frantically, and then at the man he was holding up like a puppet.
"Let him down and we can resolve this matter peacefully. We can answer all questions I am sure we all have," repeated Ned.
The man grunted and let the poor guard fall down like a sack of potatoes.
"What is your name, stranger?" asked Ned slowly.
The bald, white skinned man ran a hand through his face, stopping at his eyes and his temples as if suffering from a headache.
"Kratos," he said and looked at him.
"Very well, Kratos," Ned said and tested out the name. "I am Eddard of House Stark, Lord of Winterfell and Warden of the North."
Kratos simply nodded and stood up from the table. He ignored the presence of the other people in the room. And looked down at his body. A huge scar could be seen where his body had been completely ripped open just an hour ago. Another scar was just above one of his brows and his arms had several scars that looked as if hot chains where pressed into the skin.
He looked back the leader of the group, not bothered by the still drawn swords in the slightest and asked "How did I get here?"
"You fell out of the inside of a weirwood tree in our godswood," answered Ned.
Kratos perked up at that and gave another grunt, but said nothing for the moment. He rubbed a hand across his temples once again and looked a little bit disoriented in Ned's opinion. He gestured for the men to sheath their blades and said "I would like to invite you to rest in our guest chambers. In the morrow we may converse and answer all questions."
Kratos looked at him for a moment before he nodded sharply. Ned told Rodrik to show Kratos to his room and the two men walked out of the room. Before he stepped trough the door, Kratos took a look at the blades placed next to the wall but walked out nonetheless.
"Do you think that was wise Ned?" asked Catelyn. "We don't know him, the first thing he did was attack. He is without a doubt dangerous."
"I don't know Cat. This day was way to long. Only one thing is for certain. Things will change, that I can tell already," Ned answered and scratched his chin.
Kratos awoke when a servant knocked on the door.
"Enter," he said with gruff voice and the servant came scurrying in. In his hands were some leather clothes and boots, which he draped over a nearby stool.
"Lord Stark invites you to break your feast with him in the hall," informed him the servant.
Kratos gave an acknowledging grunt and nodded. The servant immediately left the presence of the intimidating God of War. Kratos looked a the clothes on the stool and thought about his situation. He was most definitely no longer in Greece, he wasn't even sure if this was the same world as his old one. It seemed as if the Region was considered the North and a rather cold land judging from the attire its people wore.
His mind wandered back to the weapons that arrived with him here the axe he had briefly glimpsed on was something he only recognized from his vision. The Blades of Chaos on the other hand were apparently determined to never leave him alone, if they even followed him across worlds. Kratos cursed angrily since he wouldn't be able to leave them. These wretched things always found their way back to him one way or another.
The Ghost of Sparta focused on the leathers that had been given to him. He was in a foreign land he knew nothing about with no one to teach him about it. He didn't need allies to survive, he had done without them for years after all, but now that he thought about it, he considered it. None of these people knew what he was in his homeland. Maybe he could have a fresh start here. Just thinking about it without the ever present anger clouding his mind was already something he only owed to the fact of being here without being at war with any gods.
This Eddard Stark didn't seem to be out for his head, so that was better than most of what Kratos could say about his previous life. If he stayed here the man would most likely want something in return, but Kratos had no real problem with that as he expected nothing else. He could of course just venture out into the woods, but there was comfort in the presence of others, and that kind of comfort was something he hadn't felt since he lost most of his Spartan brothers to the Barbarians.
Mayhaps this man could teach Kratos about this lands and its customs, something that would be surely important if he was to live under these people. He would prefer to not have to slaughter armies of these men, not that he wouldn't be capable of it.
Kratos disregarded his old Spartan skirt for the moment, since it was bloody and dirty. He slipped into the pants and boots. He tried on the west, but it felt restricting to him. Kratos tested some movements of his arms and heard the leather rip. Kratos cursed and left the west on the stool, going through the door with his torso exposed, as it always had been.
After a short walk he found the dining hall of Winterfell while ignoring the stares of the people around him at his appearance. Their leader was already seated at the head of the table. His wife was beside him and she was talking to a little girl with red hair. On Eddard Starks side two young boys were seated. One free seat was between them and the grown man.
"Kratos," Eddard Stark said and gestured to the seat to his rigth. "Please join us."
"Stark," Kratos simply said in greeting.
The boys perked up and looked at the huge man in awe as Kratos sat down while the girl seemed a little bit frightened. Catelyn seemed affronted because of Kratos's lack of using any titles when speaking to her husband, but said nothing. They began eating their meal and Eddard asked with an eyebrow raised "No west?"
"It was to small for me and I have no need for one anyway," said Kratos.
"Doesn't the cold bother you?" he asked.
"No."
Getting nothing else out of Kratos the man changed the topic.
"Do you know how how you got here?"
"You said I came out of tree. I remember falling, but never hitting the ground. I remember seeing a tree," said Kratos in his gruff voice.
"Where exactly am I? And what is your role in this place?" he asked in return.
"You are in Winterfell, my family's ancestral keep. It is located in the North, which is the most northern of the Seven Kingdoms of Westeros. I am Eddard Stark, but most call me Ned. You have already met my wife Catelyn. These are our children Robb and Sansa. And my … other son Jon."
Kratos nodded and stored this information for later. On of the boys, Jon, seemed to look at him expecting something, but was surprised as Kratos paid him no mind.
"As Warden of the North I am tasked with ruling over my people in King Robert's name," Ned ended his explanation.
"It would do for now," decided Kratos.
"Where are you from?" asked Ned.
"Sparta."
"I have never heard of such a place."
"I doubt you would have. I doubt anyone you know would have ever heard of it. It is unreachable now," said Kratos.
Ned nodded, though a little bit confused. "I assume the weapons that came with you are yours?" he asked.
"The blades, yes. I do not recognize the axe. I only saw it briefly in my visions before I woke up," said Kratos after a moment.
"You may have it as well. There are no other men here, that are capable of effectively using it anyways," said Ned, before his eyes narrowed.
"How is it, that you survived your wound? I have seen it myself, you body had hole big enough to reach through it with an arm in it."
Kratos pondered on much he should reveal. He didn't want to blurt out, that he was a God and could hardly die after the Gods had cursed him with immortality.
"Death doesn't reach for me in the same manner as it does for others," was all he said before continuing to eat. Ned sighed, seeing that he would get no straight answer.
"I am willing to let you stay here, as you have done us no real harm and I have already offered you guest rights, if you so wish. However here in the North everyone must do their part, even if its currently summer."
Kratos nodded, having expected nothing less.
The looked up when the door opened and the old man, who was also there when he had first awoke came in, chains on his body climpering.
"Lord Stark, forgive the intrusion. A raven from Kings Landing."
"What does it say, Maester Luwin?" asked Ned.
"The Iron Islands have rebelled against the Crown, my Lord. Balon Greyjoy has named himself King of the Iron Islands and has attacked Lannisport. They have burned down the Lannister fleet and are raiding the coast," said Maester Luwin and handed Ned the message.
"Robert asks for my aid in repelling them," said Ned and stood up.
"Ned, another war, now?" hissed Catelyn.
"It is my duty as I have sworn to answer the Kings call," said Ned and turned to Maester Luwin. "Sent out word to my bannermen. We are going to war."
Kratos perked up at that. Of course he would have no peace. He never had. But he knew, that he wasn't made for it anyway. He was a Spartan. Ever restless, ever calling for blood. He would always fight, battles always found him. And in that moment he made a decision.
"Stark! You have asked me to earn my stay in your lands," said Kratos in his gruff voice and stood up, muscled arms and torso for all to see. "Give me my weapons and I will show you what I do best."
"Are you sure? You are not one of my men sworn to me," remarked Ned.
"No. But you are at war. I will help you, if you let me stay here in return," grunted Kratos.
"You really want to fight, do you?" ask Ned.
If one looked closely you could see a fire burning in Kratos's eyes, waiting to be unleashed.
"You could say I was born for it," said the God of War and Ned nodded.
So what do you think of this new idea? I have only ever seen two other Game of Thrones x God of War Crossovers and since I am huge fan of both franchises I thought I should add my own. This story will be heavily focused on Kratos who has no patience for the silver tongues and backstabbing politics of the nobles. How will they react to this man who they can't control, bribe or intimidate? The story will start with the Greyjoy rebellion, than a timeskip will occur and we will continue with the Pilot episode of GoT and Roberts arrival at Winterfell. I will also use some aspects from the A Song of Ice and Fire books since there are more mythical things there. How do like it? Comment and review!