Chapter 53: Roads Align
Forward: Edits and writing credit to Rainsfere
…
The Next Day, Morning - Fairmarket - Geralt
The last few days had been tiring for Geralt's group, having gotten little sleep since their battles within Riverrun. There was much confusion from the militia members left at the camp, considering the fire that was engulfing the keep. Geralt was too focused on getting back to Fairmarket, leaving the others to explain just what happened in Riverrun. There was disbelief over all the talk of monsters and magic, yet even the militia fighters couldn't deny the shock was genuine.
When the town was in view, it was clear the fortifications had been rebuilt with new ones being worked on such as new watch towers and a platform on the battlement for the ballista. The trade town was becoming a proper fortress thanks to the craftsmen brought by the Winter Wolves. The town bell rang, the sound drew people to the palisade wall to watch their arrival. While there were cheers seeing it was Geralt's group, the more perceptive would notice they were missing some people.
The gates were opened to let the group ride in, the crowd parting for them to go up to the stable. From the Three Kegs, Marcus could be seen walking out with Garm close by his side. The gruff man gave a pleased grin seeing the group, though it faded fast when he saw the stern look in the Witcher's yellow eyes as he approached.
"We need to talk."
His tone was a clear demand, making even Marcus tense. "What the hell happened?"
Geralt didn't answer, already marching past Marcus and into the tavern, the innkeeper following after to the backrooms. Once in the meeting room, Geralt stood on the opposite side of the table, as if trying to keep something between him and the other man.
"You withheld information from me. Information that could have made a difference and saved lives." Geralt stated, his voice having a hint of anger to it.
For a moment Marcus didn't reply, debating if he should deny or not. It wasn't hard for him to understand what may have happened in Riverrun, if the stories of the Witcher's profession were true along with William and Ogatto no doubt sharing the truth. "Yes, yes I did not tell you everything.. About these…monsters…no doubt made by those blasted Seers." He sighed, clearly frustrated. "You have to see this from my perspective Geralt. We didn't know how many there were or if the ones we encountered were the only ones in these lands. Looks like we were wrong to hope for the latter."
"That's not the point." Geralt said with a raised voice in frustration. "We lost good people at Riverrun. If we had known what we were going up against, a few more lives could have been saved. When the rest of my company hears of this you'll be the one they blame for their comrades' deaths."
"Then I'll accept any blame they'll lay on my doorstep!" Marcus growled, slamming his fist on the table. "Just what happened at Riverrun, at least tell me that before we talk any further!"
There was a moment of silence before Geralt nodded, figuring it best to report. "The keep was practically run with a skeleton crew of soldiers who all seemed…enthralled with the way they looked and acted. Had whole caravans hauling corpses, used to feed a massive monster den underneath the keep."
"A den? Wait, these freaks…breed?"
"Maybe. These ghouls are unnatural, being more of flesh crafted with human remains. They sure seem as tough and strong as the real thing though." By now Geralt pulled up a chair to sit down, needing to relax after hours of riding. "Whatever the case, we had to set fire to the nest and keep. If that place was left unchecked we could be dealing with hundreds of ghouls or even something even worse."
Marcus paled hearing those words. Fighting one monster was hard enough, but hundreds? It made him wonder about the rest of the Riverlands. If Riverrun had a den then so could the other castles and villages. He snapped from his thoughts, realizing he hadn't asked an important question. "What of Lord Edmure and Lady Catelyn? Are they…"
"Edmure is dead." Geralt stated grimly. "The Crones, the ones you call the Seers, poisoned his mind and warped his body into an abomination known as a flesh golem. We lost good people to him, but we won. Some of his sanity returned in the end and he told us that Catelyn had escaped recently."
The story seemed outlandish even to Marcus, yet knew better than to doubt him. "Should have expected the worst for Edmure. Losing him and having Riverrun destroyed…the Small Folk may understand, but the other lords will not take this lightly."
"I know that. Holdings like Riverrun have stood for thousands of years. Barely a week here and I burned it down." Dry sarcasm did little to trivialize the matter. "I'll be the one to break the news to Ser Bryden, Robb and the other lords. We did what we had to do."
"I don't doubt that Witcher." Marcus assured. "If Catelyn is out there, we should send scouts out to the south to look for her. We'll cover the gap from the Blue Fork to the Red Fork. If we're lucky, she'll be heading this way instead of southward." Pulling up a chair for himself, he sat back. "So…about these Crones. Just what exactly are we dealing with?"
Geralt didn't answer as he tried to think of the best words to describe them. "I think we need to call a meeting. Your companions and my captains need to know this, if we plan to stand a chance in organizing a resistance against them."
A Few Hours Later
The meeting discussing the Crones was a long and drawn out one, though the plentiful food and drink helped out. There were countless questions about them, with Geralt doing his best to answer them all. In truth the Crones were one of a kind in his world, so much of what they were capable of was skewed by folklore and superstition. The truth was just as vague for him despite his experience. Regardless, he informed everyone of the Crones' powers of corruption, controlling the elements, rituals along with manipulating both monsters and humans into servants. Adding the fact they were immune to most normal weapons and were physically stronger than any human could possibly be, they practically seemed like demi-gods. He went further into the monsters already known under their command, such as the types of ghouls which were killable through specific tactics and weapons, but were fearsome and numerous. William's encounter with the Leshen was also concerning since such a creature was difficult for even a Witcher.
"Really, luck and quick thinking saved you. Leshens have been known to wipe out dozens of trained men with ease." Geralt remarked.
Everyone at the table looked at the bowman who had a prideful smirk on his face. "Considering everything you just said...we're pretty much fucked." He chuckled as he leaned back in his seat. "Who knows if there are more of those...Leshen or other freaks these Crones have. Including any of the Houses they got under their thumb, we're pretty much outnumbered and outmatched."
Dacey growled at the man's words, slamming her hand on the table. "So what then? Just run off and let these things ravage the Riverlands? Once they pick this region dry they will move for the Westerlands and King's Landing, then even the North."
"Huh, not sure how this will be an issue. Lannisters are your enemy after all, so let this be their problem." Will grumbled.
"And I thought you cared for the Small Folk. You'd just let them be slaughtered just like the people here." Theon sternly argued.
The archer frowned, wanting to snap some insults back, though couldn't argue back. If everything the Witcher said was true then these Crones wouldn't spare anybody. Ogatto was quick to speak up.
"Forgive Will. Despite how he behaves, he's just as shaken after what has happened." That statement earned a glare from William, who remained silent. "I'm not one to turn away from a fight, but the odds are very much against us. Even if Lord Robb is bringing his army, it would at best even the odds."
"We can't forget about the Blackfish. His knowledge of the land will also be a huge help in fighting the Crones." Marcus added before looking at Geralt. "You're the expert on these creatures. You clearly have knowledge and tools to beat them."
Geralt sighed and nodded. "Yes, though never gone against an army of ghouls, no such thing has ever happened." He explained, one hand down petting Nymeria's head who was staring across at Garm. "Ghouls just require proper understanding and tactics, there are even weapon oils that are corrosive to damage their bodies. The Crones however are not that simple. Silver weapons and oils are needed to even hurt them. Fighting and killing them would make you wish to fight that flesh golem all over again."
That statement left the room in a grim silence. Geralt didn't have to look around to know how everyone was feeling after what he said. Hopeless, helpless and fearful. He's seen it all before and here was no different. Even his men were afraid "Then what are we waiting for? Let's get some silver melted down and these oils brewed. Doesn't have to be enough for the whole company right?" Theon spoke up to break the silence. "Between the town and our supplies, we can surely work on such preparations. We can't just do nothing!"
Theon's words brought energy back to the meeting. There were 'ayes' heard throughout the room with vigor and Dacey shot Theon a half smile for suggesting to fight them as opposed to running away. "He does have a point. Better we get to work instead of moping." William muttered in agreement.
"Can't say we have much silver to go around here. I'll see if we have ore in the warehouse." Marcus added.
"Maybe collect silverware." Ogatto jested, as the group's mood was back in a positive swing.
This looming threat wasn't going to be an easy one to tackle. The horrors ahead would be unlike anything they have ever faced before. They wouldn't be fighting Lannister men but monsters that shouldn't even be here in this world. An army of them. He just hoped that Robb and the rest of the North would show up soon, otherwise it wouldn't matter how much they prepared.
…
Midday - Southern Side of the Red Fork - Hadrian
Safety was both so close yet so far, just across one river. Hadrian had been walking along the river with several guards close by as they were trying to figure out how to cross the river. The refugee caravan wasn't too far behind them and its residents were anxious to cross as soon as possible. Right now time was short since more scouting reports spoke of the monsters not too far from their position. They had to cross now, but the river was deep, and the current was moving far too fast. Without rafts far too many people would drown just trying to swim across the wide river.
"Either stay and get eaten or risk drowning." He muttered grimly to himself. Part of him wanted to slip away from his guards and try to speak with Root. While she had assured him she had a plan to aid them in crossing the Fork, there wasn't any way he'd know when or where. All he could do was hope whatever plan she had concocted would bear fruit and soon. Giving a sigh, he sharply whistled to get his men's attention. "Let's head back! We're getting too far already."
There were mutterings of agreement as everyone began to trek back to the caravan camp, Hadrian quickening his pace to take the lead back. They'd have to prepare to defend their camp while preparations for braving a crossing were made.
"Come on Root...give me a miracle." He muttered under his breath, hoping somehow she could hear him.
…
Further East - Root
Root's pointed ears twitched as indeed she could hear the human's plea. Her eyes opened as she stared up to the tree tops above, giving a tired sigh as she shifted from where she laid. The shallow pond she had been meditating in gently rippled, tickled across the roots of an arching weirwood tree with a carved face of a kind woman on its trunk. The red sap that dripped from the carving dropped into the pool, the purity of the water turning it into another one of countless 'pebbles' that littered the bottom.
"Are you lost to sleep and sorrow, Ruva?" Root muttered softly to the tree. She had been one of the first of the Old Gods to become one with their aspect, back when the second time the Hammer of the Waters was brought down on the continent. Her kin and the Greenseers had underestimated its destructive power, which risked ravishing the whole land. Her gentle guidance wouldn't be enough to stem the flood, so she gave herself to the water to safely spread it. No doubt her mind was thinned, split between the vastness of the Neck and the countless rivers throughout the Kingdoms.
"I just need you to hear me." Root muttered, glancing to her left hand which was wrapped in fabric with blood marking across the palm. Once more she unraveled the binding, wincing since the cut was sore still. Flexing her fingers, she squeezed her hand tightly to force out blood, a thick trickle falling into the water. Blood and life was the purest source of magic, the natural price for many powers. To commune with an Old God never came without the cost of blood, yet didn't guarantee that it would succeed should you give too little. This was her fourth attempt, each time becoming more tiring for her to do.
"Yet I have to…for Hadrian and the others." Taking a deep breath as she calmed her mind as she once more laid back into the shallow water. Slowing her breaths as she let the cool fluid soak over her before closing her eyes, slipping into a soothing trance. In her mind she spoke out for Ruva, her inner voice echoing into a tranquil void. There was a reply back, though not through a voice, but the dripping of water. It's patterns like tears, like the drops of sap that dripped in the waking world.
Root slipped deeper into the void, following the sound until she reached a single puddle. It was perfectly round and as wide as the opening as well. She knelt before it, gaze drifting up where the drops fell to see its source. Even for her trained mind, the sight of Ruva's fair vistage starting from above was unnerving. Eyes pure white steadily dripping tears, hair as blue and long as the rivers she borne and a face as perfect yet placid as a water's surface.
Root kept herself calm, having never been this close to a sleeping Old God. She had to be careful now, she knew better than to wake an Old God from its slumber. Past mystics had done so before, bringing forth great natural disasters as a result of their folly. She focused on the puddle which seemed bottomless but had clear images across its surface, like a plane of glass.
For a moment she saw Hadrian and the refugees, the camp hurrying to prepare the wagons for attempting to cross the Red Fork. There was fear in the Small Folk, the brink of a panic nearing as they knew they were trapped. A tear then fell, making the image ripple to show a great battle.
Blood ran thick across the water's surface and bodies drifted in the steady currents. Among it all, a giant of a man with a stag helm smashed his hammer against another man wearing armor styled like that of a dragon. The blow made the dragon man's rubies scatter around like drops of blood.
Another vision showed a burned down castle, the remains of Riverrun. Surrounding it were charred bodies of both human and monster, the malformed creatures' remains were no doubt polluting the waters they rotted in.
What was clear was the violence and tainting of the rivers hurt Ruva's dreaming mind. She was renowned as the most merciful of the Old Gods, a reason why she hadn't hesitated to sacrifice herself for even the ignorant humans. Yet did that kindness remain? After seeing how the humans continued to behave after so long? For Root, she sure hoped so, otherwise Hadrian and the survivors would all be killed.
"Please."
Her single word made the pale eyes of Ruva shift, seemingly reacting.
"I call upon you to beseech your mercy for the humans trying to cross your river. I know it's all wrong. The humans have forgotten you, they no longer give you offerings and they treat the rivers as if it is theirs when it is yours. The boy however, is not them. He is not greedy nor vain. He is not malicious or warlike. He is merciful like you Ruva. I have already begun teaching him about you, the Old Gods, your natures and the past. If you let him and those who follow him live I promise you I will complete his education and he in turn will educate those who are willing to listen. In time, you and your kin will be remembered. Once again, offerings and reverence will be paid to you but only if you let the boy live."
Her prayer made the face of the goddess shift slightly, as in silent contemplation. Root had no idea what she was seeing, yet the faintest of smiles appeared on her lips. Then, her eyes slowly closed, the tear drops stopping, a sign that she listened.
Root gasped as she awoke from her trance, coughing some water that had trickled into her lungs. Her body felt weak as she stumbled to get up, the act of such direct communing proved to be more taxing than she had anticipated. She turned onto her side as she crawled out of the pool, laying on the green grass, staring up at the weirwood. The sap that had dripped from the face's closed eyes had also stopped, making Root laugh softly.
"Thank you Ruva." She sighed, drifting into a dreamless sleep as exhaustion took her.
…
Refugee Camp on the Southern Bank of the Red Fork - Hadrian
There was a growing panic among the Small Folk as word was spreading that there was no narrow crossing to be found nearby. With the guards also reporting seeing things lurking in the brush, Hadrian knew they had to do something soon, else the refugees would scramble in a desperate attempt for survival. Even the soldiers and knights seemed afraid, knowing they were at a clear disadvantage if a fight broke out.
"Master Hadrian…what are your orders?" One of the knight's questioned.
For a moment he didn't reply, glancing around before looking at his troops. "Is the heaviest wagon loaded? If we can get it across we can get rope lines to help haul the others across." It was a standard method to cross a river with wagons and carts, but was exhausting and time consuming work. "We have to do this fast if-"
"Master!" Closer to the river, someone yelled out, making Hadrian glance in that direction. A villager hurried over, wide eyed with shock. "M-Master Hadrian there is something happening…the river…the water is receding!"
The claim was baffling to hear, the others muttering in confusion at the claim. Hadrian was quick to follow it up, hurrying away from the encampment to get a clear view of the river. Others who had been cleaning clothes or gathering water were yammering in shock. The water level of the river was gradually lowering, as if something further along was controlling the flow. What was once a river nearing six feet deep was now half that much, along with the current calming as well. Some of the witnesses were on their knees, seeming to be in prayer over what they saw.
Despite his own surprise, Hadrian knew Root had done her part. "Men!" He spoke up, voice ringing with renewed energy. "Let's get moving! We need the sick and injured across first along with essential supplies! Every minute wasted gives us less time to cross!"
The young man's orders sparked a quick reaction as both the knights, soldiers and even village onlookers sprung into action. Carts with the infirmed were quickly moving forward, horses or oxen pulling the wagons charging into the calmed river. Hadrian watched as the first wave of refugees crossed without issue, a good sign that the water was safe to cross. Already people were grouping up to cross on foot, rope lining between each other so no one would be swept away. Others even would cling to the sides of carts or wagons, just to get across swiftly.
"Keep going! No rushing now!" One soldier urged as Hadrian walked by towards the wagon that would be taking his sister and advisors along. He could see her peeking out, looking worried at first until she saw him. Hadrian smiled back at her, getting close enough to give her a hug.
"Did your friend create a miracle?" She whispered, excitement in her young voice.
Hadrian smiled, before nodding back. "She did." He whispered back. "We're not safe yet though. You stay here with the others. I'll meet you on the other side alright?"
She nodded, giving one last squeeze in their embrace before the wagon began to drive off for the river. With his half-sibling safe, he hurried off to his tent to grab his alchemy pack along with his bow, quiver and shortsword. Ever since leaving Raventree, he realized his alchemical skills may be the best weapon against these creatures.
He focused his attention back to the defenses at the edge of the encampment, a crude barrage of fallen trees and brush set up to keep anything from charging in. The men were nervous as from the woods there was shuffling movement and low growls unlike any animal they had heard. Seeing Hadrian though did seem to rally them, glad to know the young man was with them.
"There are a lot of them." One of the knights muttered to him. "We can't hope to fight them all off."
"We just have to delay them until everyone is across." Hadrian assured, though he hoped the river wouldn't remain shallow for too long afterwards. "Did the fire bottles I made get passed around?" He then questioned.
"Yes. A few of us remember how you used one back at the keep. Just light and throw." The knight replied before there was a howling that made everyone flinch. The defenders tensed up, those with shields at the front with spearmen and archers at the rear.
Drawing his own bow, he readied an arrow as well. "Steady men…" There was a tense moment of silence beyond just the sounds of the river and breathing from the group. Suddenly from the brush, a pack of ghouls rushed out, maybe a few dozen from what he could quickly count. "Loose!" Despite their fear of the fearsome beasts, no one hesitated in launching volley after volley of arrows into the horde. Most of the creatures were riddled with arrows, yet some either avoided getting hit or endured. The spearmen thrusted their weapons out, the creatures practically impaling themselves in their mad drive to reach them. The rest that got by slammed into the knights shields, claws and snapping jaws kept back until they were cut down. They held back the first wave, yet more were coming already.
"Fire bottles at the ready!" Hadrian ordered, getting out one of his own along with flint. Those with the same weapon did the same, igniting their bottles before hurling them into the building mass of creatures. Shrieks and roars filled the air as the monsters clearly were hurt and fearful of the flames, those set aflame breaking into a panic. The patches of fire also would make a good if temporary barrier to slow the flow of creatures.
However, despite their defense holding strong, they were taking losses. One ghoul leaped far, avoiding the spears to tackle a footsoldier. Before anyone could hack the beast to death, it already ripped out the screaming man's throat. Another crashing against a knight's shield grasped at it, yanking it back so hard it tugged the man with it. Knocked prone, more ghouls swarmed him, clawing and bashing at his armor. While they couldn't pierce through the plating, the blows were denting the metal, breaking the yelling man's body until one at last ripped his helmet off to rend at his head.
Hadrian looked back to the refugees, seeing the last groups getting across the river. "The river, fall back across the river!" With the order given, the men began to retreat once the next wave was fought off, keeping formation so they weren't overrun. Another round of fire bottles were thrown out to cover their escape, the last ones beyond what Hadrian personally had with him. The group soon were trudging through the water, which slowed them slightly. By now a few of the ghouls had caught up to them, leading to a few clashes along with more men being mauled by the savage monsters.
Despite this, they were nearly at the other side, though Hadrian paused as he heard something big coming. Everyone else could hear it too, pausing as they glanced back to see a massive and familiar form charging forward. It was that giant amalgamation of a beast, the same one Hadrian had set on fire back at Raventree Hall. Its thick fur and hide was clearly burned, no doubt painful wounds which drove the beast into a rage. For such a large creature, it moved with shocking speed, already nearing the opposing shore.
"Shoot it! Don't let it get to us!" Hadrian ordered, the men snapping out of their shock. Arrows rained down onto the beast, slowing it down slightly as it entered the water. While the chort was distracted, Hadrian's attention drifted to the direction where the river flowed, hearing a rushing sound approaching them. "By the gods…" A massive surge of water was rushing forward, as if whatever had been holding the river back had decided to release it.
The monsters seemed to notice it as well, ghouls scrambling to retreat back to the shore. The chort though hesitated too long before moving, continuing to go after Hadrian's group. The flood of water reached them, slamming into the monsters. The ghouls were swept away, while the chort was staggered, its size and strength letting it stand its ground. Despite the rushing current, it continued to trudge forward. The men kept firing at it, going for the exposed head, though they couldn't pierce it's thick skull.
Hadrian knew they needed to kill this beast, otherwise it would crush them and then move onto the refugees. Opening his alchemy pack, he quickly searched through it as he found one of his more dangerous weapons, tools that his former master favored. Staring at the bombs, he got a short line of rope to bind the two together.
"Only got one chance at this." He muttered, heart racing as the chort was nearly at their shore. Lighting the fuses, he stepped up as he tossed the bound bombs right at the creature's head, praying the spraying water wouldn't douse the fuses. The rope line tangled with one of the beast's ram like horns, the bombs cracking against the side of the creatures skull which roared again before the two exploded.
Everyone shielded themselves as chunks of flesh and bone flew around. When the smoke cleared, the creature's headless bulk limply shuffled, as whatever lingering life left it until it slumped at the river bank. Everyone was in shock at just what happened, one man going up to prod the monster as if it come back to life despite lacking a head. A cheer followed from the soldiers and village onlookers, amazed at what had just happened. It even took him a moment to collect himself, realizing they weren't safe yet.
"Let's not celebrate yet!" He spoke up to silence the cheering. "We need to start marching now. Fairmarket is at least a day from here, so let's not lower our guard yet." No one argued with that reasoning as everyone prepared to continue to travel. The adrenaline of that battle was starting to wear off for him, the young man feeling winded suddenly. His horse was brought over, being helped to mount up. Riding for the front of the caravan, he confidently led them forward, ready for the last leg of their journey to safety.
"Nearly there father…we're nearly there."
...
Nightfall - Dragonstone - Gendry
Gendry had lost track of time on Dragonstone, the only clear hint of it being a short beard starting to grow across his face. Staring into the mirror, he brushed one hand along the scruff. He no doubt looked like his father, if anyone could remember the late king in his youth.
"Sure, don't look like any noble's son." He muttered to himself before stepping away from the small mirror. Nearby he had his pack and toolbelt, all prepared for his latest trip back into the tunnels of the island. His delving had led to him finding an amazing discovery, overlooked or forgotten by so many others. Deep within the caverns, he had found an ancient forge in a massive chamber, holding forges and smelting pumps. Despite the old design, they were of masterful craft, out-matching what his master had at his workshop. There was damage though, since the place had been abandoned for so long, even before the Targayens had been overthrown by his father. No doubt the disrepair could date back to the Dance of Dragons, at least from what little he knew about history.
"Maybe I should have studied better like my master urged." Opening the door to his room, he looked down the stone hallway, making sure no one else was about. Sneaking out, he took the usual route down to the lower floors. Everyone here had a usual routine, which after a few months he had memorized to avoid any unwanted attention. Reaching the entrance hall, he hung to the edge of it as he made his way for the next stairway, using the pillars as cover as he silently walked by. Yet as he neared the stairway down, he stopped as he saw lantern light from another stairwell from the upper floors.
Biting back a curse, he quickly moved to hide behind one pillar. Right now he was confused on why anyone was out at this hour, since no guards were supposed to be patrolling at this moment. Listening carefully, they were too soft footed to be a soldier or even a servant. A small figure stepped out from the stairwell, a young girl, about Arya's age, She had a hooded cloak which covered over most of her head and face, though he could see the hint of discolored skin. For a moment, the girl looked around before walking further into the hall, making Gendry shift along the pillar to stay hidden.
"Hello?"
When she spoke up, Gendry tensed, remaining silent over the worry he would give himself away if he so much as breathed too deeply.
"You're…not in trouble. I just want to talk."
The girl's soft voice was sincere enough. After a moment of hesitation, he stepped out of hiding, making the girl gasp in surprise at his sudden reveal. "You shouldn't be out either… Lady Shireen."
Having her name spoken made her give a surprised yelp, glancing away shyly. "Well…I know your name too! You're Gendry, one of the best smiths here, at least from what the forgemaster says!" She countered, making Gendry frown back.
"Just…how long have you been spying on me?" He questioned back sternly.
"I wasn't spying! This is my home after all. I just…noticed you one night when I was exploring."
Gendry couldn't help but give a questionable look, though when the girl's hood shifted up, he could better see the disfigurement on her face. While it was surprising to see the scale-like pattern, it wasn't anywhere near as bad as the scars some folk in Flea Bottom had. Some of the rumors he heard about Stannis' daughter now seem quite cruel in the horrid descriptions they made.
A faint echo from the other end of the hall snapped him from his thoughts, reminding him they weren't alone here. "Look, I have work to do right now so…I just need to get going."
Shireen frowned as Gendry began to move off for the stairway, following after him. "Surely I can come along! I promise I won't tell anyone about what…well…whatever you're doing."
Giving a sigh, he looked back to see those fair eyes staring pleading at him. No doubt the girl craved adventure, living most of her life cooped up in a tower. "Fine, just stay close. The tunnels down there are quite confusing if you don't know them." He led the way down the stairs, making sure not to go too fast to outpace Shireen. They'd reach the lower tunnels, passages of rough hewn stone and obsidian that were mostly unused. Getting a torch off the side of his pack, he got it lit, adding more light alongside Shireen's lantern.
"So you never explored down here?" He questioned as he led the way through the maze of passages.
The girl nodded. "Father warned me never to go down here, too dangerous with how dark it is…along with giant rats."
The last claim made him chuckle. "Well I can say I found a few big ones down here. You should have seen the ones in Flea Bottom. Big as small dogs."
"Oh, so you're from King's Landing!" She remarked excitedly. "I've heard so much about it, from the Red Keep, the Great Sept and markets. Father said once the war is over, I may get to see it all."
The eagerness in her voice showed how much she wanted to see the world, though it was naive at the same time. He didn't share the grimy details about the city, the filth and poverty that made up the other side of the old capital. "I'll admit, I always wanted to see beyond the city. Never thought I'd end up in a place like Dragonstone."
"So…why did you come down here and just what did you find?" She asked.
Gendry was hesitant to answer, though they were getting close to the Targaryen forge. "I…was an apprentice to Tobho Mott, the greatest smith of the Seven Kingdoms. He has certain theories about this place about the Targaryens."
Turning a corner, they reached another passage, though there was a short split off to the right. It seemed like a dead end, though there was a gap among the rock. At a closer inspection, this space must have been another hallway, though it had crumbled, be it naturally or through human effort.
"Shouldn't be too hard for you to squeeze through." Slipping his pack off, he held it in one hand as he shuffled sideways through the gap which stretched out a good fifty feet. He remembered how tense it was going through here, having worried about getting stuck. Eventually, he reached the other wise, taking a big breath before turning to look through the narrow space. "Are you doing alright?"
"F-Fine!" Despite her nervous tone, Shireen was nearly through, doing her best not to bang her lantern against the stone surrounding her. He reached out to help her squeeze through the opening, making her give a thankful nod before gawking at the chamber they were in. "Gods…this…"
"Yeah…I was just as shocked too." Gendry chuckled. Their lights barely could illuminate the massive chamber, with them needing to look straight up to see even a hint of the ceiling. Strolling along, the worn remains of work tables and other wooden furniture clutter around, crumbled from age and the humid conditions of the tunnels. "My master believed the Valyrians had a forge here, built even before the Targaryens conquered Westeros."
The two neared an imposing forge, so massive that a grown man could stand within it. Its design was imposing, shaped to be like a roaring dragon, though dust and grime muddled the fearsome features. Off to the left side was the bellow, which was triple the size of even the biggest forges. On the opposite side as a large funnel, the inside of it is lined with blackened scally material.
"So what you're saying is...this is a dragon forge?" Shireen muttered, walking around to fully examine it.
"Explain the design. My master's notes theorized dragon fire is needed in Valyrian. The heat and...well...magic in such flames could smelt metal beyond anything we can normally achieve." Though, he did realize he was trying to explain smiting to a young girl and sharing personal secrets his master had entrusted him.
"It makes sense." The girl stood by the funnel, with the narrowest spot big enough for a man to crawl through. She touched the rough interior with one hand before the other touched her scale scarred cheek. "This has to be lined with dragon scales, otherwise this piece warp apart from the heat dragonfire would give off.."
Gendry blinked at her deduction, having had the same theory. "For a girl your age, you're a lot smarter than I thought." The odd look she gave made him realize his compliment was a gruff though. "I mean in a good way."
"It's fine." Shireen giggled at how shy Gendry got. "I guess I'm like Arya, being different. She wants to fight and I want to study. Not the dull formal stuff, but about the things Maesters know." She had an excited gleam in her eyes despite the low light, though it was offset by a faint frown.
While he knew little of the Maesters, it was clear they had no interest in educating women. "Considering everything I've seen lately, anything can be possible." The encouraging words did draw a surprised look from her as he then focused on getting his tools from his pack. "Anyway, I got a lot of work to do to patch up the damage the forge has."
"Umm...are you certain you're fixing it correctly?"
Gendry did pause, rubbing one hand at the back of his head. "I mean...sort of. I've mended forges before and I have my master's notes...even if half of them are tricky to understand." His distracted muttering gave Shireen the chance to swipe the journal from the pack, quickly flipping through it. "Hey!"
He did try to take the book back, Shireen just keeping him away by putting a workbench between them. "These sketches, they look familiar." Her remarks stopped Gendry from chasing her, giving her more time to explain. "The library here is old, daring far back for the Targaryens. I think I saw something like this in one of the older books." She handed the journal back, which Gendry put away quite protectively. "I could help by finding that book, surely that can help understand the forge."
Again that eagerness was hard to resist, even if Gendry wasn't keen on dragging his cousin into this, even if she didn't know they were related. "Alright, but this has to be kept a secret."
"Why? We could get others to help, like the other crafters or the Maester!"
"I…it's just..." He hesitated, being unsure if even the likes of Stannis could be trusted with this forge. "I need you to trust me. My master has put so much of his life into trying to find this place…which is now in my hands." Looking to the tools he held, he then glanced back at her. "I just want to be recognized for something I've achieved. Surely you dream of the same thing."
There was a pondering look in the young girl's eyes before she nodded. "I do." She smiled back and nodded. "I'll keep this between us Gendry. Now…I should get back to my room before the guard wakes up, rather not have the captain replace him with someone else." With a kind smile, she gave a small wave before heading back to the narrow passage, the light of her lantern fading away.
He smiled a bit since Shireen reminded him of the girls he grew up around in Flea Bottom, very sisterly and innocent. It was also heartening to know he wasn't alone in this task, even if it came from the most unexpected of individuals. Looking back to the forge, he grasped his tools tightly as he walked over to one of the looming furnace, working out hammering out dents and chipping away the layer of rust. The vast chamber, one where dragons helped smelt the finest weapons in the world, echoed with the sounds of hammering for the first time in an Era.
…
Dawn - The Wall, Somewhere Between Castle Black and Eastwatch - Jon
Jon still couldn't believe that he and the others had made it, having had a close call during the climb up the Wall. They had lost a few people when a section had avalanched, with him and Ygritte hanging by their life line. Orwell, their group's Warg had nearly cut them close to save the others, with Jon only able to secure himself and Ygritte with mere seconds left.
Ygritte's tight embrace snapped him from his thoughts, in turn he gave her a reassuring squeeze. "Normally this is when you give a witty remark on how that wasn't too hard." He whispered to her, trying to break the tension.
A frustrated growl came from her as she loosened her grip, glaring at him. "We nearly died and you're trying to…" Staring into his eyes, she then broke down into a laugh. "You always surprise me, Jon." Her gaze then drifted eastward where the sun was rising, casting its light across the vast expanse beyond the Wall and the North. "Amazing… shame we can't stay up here."
"Least we don't have to climb down, not when we got one of the empty forts for that." Jon remarked, staring out to enjoy the sunrise. He glanced at Ygritte, thinking back on how she claimed their love for each other surpassed their loyalties to the Wildings or the Watch. After what happened on their climb, he knew she was right. In turn that made him hopeful for his plan to save everyone. Part of him wanted to ask her now, but he knew emotions were still high and the other Wildings may overhear as well. Squeezing her shoulder, she glanced at him. "Going to talk with Tormund, make sure we're ready to move on."
Ygritte nodded before giving a small grin, leaning in to steal a kiss from him. "Also give Orwell a punch for me if you get the chance."
"No promises." He chuckled back before turning away from her. Tormund was with the other Wildings, arguing with Orwell. Jon only overheard half of the conversation.
"-lost Jon, we'd get delayed for too long. Also Ygritte's the best archer we got." Tormund sternly muttered.
Orwell, a gaunt faced and hollowed eyed man, glared back. "They could have taken us all with them. You may be playing favorites, but our mission matters more." He stopped when he noticed Jon approaching.
"What's done is done. Go tell the others, we rest for half an hour then we get moving."
With that order given Orwell nodded before walking off, letting Tormund turn to face Jon. "Let me guess, Orwell explaining why he was going to cut us loose? I don't hold it against him." Jon remarked.
"Good, last thing I want is too many grudges being made." Tormund muttered. "Some of those who fell were carrying a good amount of supplies. We may have to do a little raiding just to get by."
Hearing that last detail nearly made Jon tense up, giving away his shock. Part of him should have expected that much considering the Wildlings way of life, yet the casual suggestion by Tormund who he came to befriend felt disturbing. The conflict of morality and playing his role clashed, until a thought came to mind.
"I know we're cutting it tight on provisions, but raiding even a farmstead in these parts would be unwise." Jon quickly replied.
Tormund gave an odd, questioning look to him. "Why would that be? Worried you'll get a pitchfork to the chest?" The ginger haired warrior jested.
"How about the heavy cavalry from House Umber?" The blank look showed the name didn't mean anything to Tormund, making Jon sigh. "Lord Umber is the nearest noble from us, with some of the strongest men in the North. The last few Wildling groups who crossed into his lands riled him up, so if we draw attention, he'll have his best riders on us."
A low grumble came from Tormund, pondering Jon's advice. "Some of the men here won't be happy not being able to raid."
"Thought getting the Wildlings past the Wall mattered more?" Jon countered, making the gruff warrior nod. "The Gift may not be a lush region but there are plenty of small game to be found here. Any pillaging happens, we risk everything."
"You know this side of the Wall better than us, it's the reason why Mance picked you for this." Tormund replied. "Some among us will complain, but I'll get through their thick heads." He gave a toothy grin before patting Jon firmly on the shoulder. "Just do the same with Ygritte." With that parting jest, he headed off to find a spot to eat his rations, leaving Jon by himself.
Jon hoped his choice spared the lives of some unfortunate Small Folk, at least with the group he was in. He was glad that Tormund was on good terms with him, though ever since their fight against the undead polar bear, the Wildling warrior had warmed up to him quickly. Part of him wondered if he could draw Tormund into his plan, though it would be too risky to try to involve another besides Ygritte.
"That is if she doesn't kill me for what I'm going to ask." He muttered to himself as he stared across the landscape of the North. His home, for many years before he became a sworn brother of the Night's Watch. He thought of his family and of Geralt and the times they spent together in Winterfell. 'Those were happier times.' He thought almost happily to himself. How he longed to see them all again and to hear his father finally speak to him about his mother. Of course, those happier times will never be again if he fails in his task. His task to somehow stop his brothers and the Wildlings from killing each other long enough to deal with the real threat: The White Walkers.
The dead were coming and if they make it past the wall then no one will have happier times. No laughter or cheers. No dances or songs by a warm fire either. Only a cold and lifeless silence across Westeros. He was a sword in the darkness, and right now he needed more help, more swords to stand against the darkness. He can't fail here. He cannot die here.
…
Notice: Sorry for the delay on this chapter, session work has hit me quite hard. Despite Hadrian's narrow escape, this chapter is more of a moment of calm and build up for the varying groups. Jon is going to be having more time ahead, leading to a critical change to come. After all, the Wildlings siege of the Wall has been pushed up and the Nights Watch isn't going to have the fortune of Stannis sweeping in to help.
I am curious whatever everyone thinks of my take on the Old Gods as their role grows through Root and Hadrian's storyline. If you want a good comparable, I'd recommend checking out Princess Mononoke which shows how the gods of nature and spirits are presented.
As usual, share a view or come join the growing Discord group to chat and get early previews of upcoming chapters.