AN: Hey guys, I am not dead - school has just been kicking my ass. But I'm almost done with it and fear not, I have not been idle. Welcome to OFAM chapter 8! I have this chapter through 13 already ready to be posted. Please, enjoy! And now? Onto the story...
Valyria…
Sixteenth Day of the Moon, 278 After Aegon's Conquest…
"Bloody Hell…" I hissed, barely avoiding putting my foot into a hidden magma puddle - again. Valyria, officially, was a shit hole. Or maybe it was a hellhole? That would be more fitting considering the random, frequent magma pits just under the surface to go with the hellishly orange, smoggy landscape. Mercifully the place didn't smell like sulfur, I don't know if I could have taken literal fire and brimstone and stomached it for this long. If I had known the remnants of the city I had chosen to loot was this bad off then I would have left hours ago but no, I just had to go and convince myself that maybe, just maybe, something survived the violent, fiery doom that destroyed Valyria.
I really should have known better.
Seven hours of futile expedition later and all I had to show for my efforts were a few more knives, a short sword, an axe head, and the odd tidbits of cutlery and ornamentation made from either Valyrian Steel or gold. Well… At least the Iron Bank would be pleased.
Dragon bone, on the other hand, was much easier to find considering it was scattered about everywhere in the city I was in. I'd already collected seven full dragon skeletons and one of the massive bone balls that I recognized as a supersized version of the mace on Ancaleon, Inferna, and Oramir's tails.
So how was I able to find so many skeletons? Well, this was the city I saw in my vision, presumably… There wasn't much to go off of anymore to actually make sure it was that city. I only assumed it was based on the rough outline of what was left of once-mighty walls and towers. Now all this place was, was a hellscape of crags and shattered towers. Dragon carcasses were strewn atop the broken, collapsed buildings (which were most likely crushed after flying dragons choked and fell out of the sky or just choked lying down if they were nesting). The Valyrians really did a bloody number on this place when the Volcanoes went off… Seriously, nowhere else on the continent was this badly affected by the magical backlash - lending even more credence to my little theory.
Shaking my head, I slowly kept excavating the tower I was trying to get into. It wasn't an easy process since I had to make sure the entrance wouldn't collapse on my head. It wouldn't kill me, but several thousand tons of rock landing directly on my head would suck all the same. So, as the saying goes, slow and steady wins the race. But two hours of slowly trudging through a tunnel under a tower with lava traps, a threatening ceiling collapse, and horrid heat? Well, it was enough to make me wish I was at The Wall instead of here.
I growled involuntarily at the mere thought of that.
As if I would take the Black with a woman like Dacey fucking Mormont being my wife.
We've only been married for a little over two months now and the woman has become my partner in everything. Hell, if I didn't know better I'd think I was falling for my own wife. Well… Maybe that wasn't such a crazy thought after all.
Anyway…
I had been digging for two hours and hadn't found anything of note here yet (except the second chamberpot seat made of Valyrian Steel that probably would become another Arbalest if Grashnog had anything to say about it), and I probably wouldn't. I just sighed and pressed my hand into the metal of my helmet, swearing as I did. The Targaryens were the most likely to still have any remnants of Old Valyrian literature and none of it would likely be of any help to me. Nobles weren't typically smiths… Oh, and medieval smiths didn't typically write so there was that little hurdle to get over.
Really, was it so hard to find one book on Valyrian Steel in this entire city? Dammit, if they didn't write it down then that meant one of two things: their 'secret,' was so well known throughout the continent it didn't need to be written down or the secret to making proper Valyrian Steel was passed on by word of mouth from Master to Apprentice.
Grashnog and I had already figured out that Dragon Bone and Dragon Fire were integral to the metal, but what were we missing? Well, I wasn't going to get an answer from the granite wall I was staring at.
With a sigh, I turned around the way I came and started for the surface all the while hoping the rest of my little exploration group had found something at least of interest if not of worth.
A few minutes later, I finally clambered out of the hole I burrowed underneath the tower and was making my way back to base camp. We weren't all due back for another hour but I was the last one to trot back into our little refuge of wards and solid ground.
"Any luck, Ben?"
"No." I sighed as I lowered myself down to the ground beside Teddy. When he caught wind of what I was planning on doing, he demanded to be part of the expedition as well (and his ranting Patronus demanding he send a Portkey back to the Moat for him to get in on the search party wasn't one I was soon to forget). "How about you?"
"Negative." One of the two Goblins - Ulthias, I thought was his name - growled. "Only bone and trinkets."
"A shame." The other Goblin growled while honing his sword - not that he needed to but everyone needs a hobby. "I would have fancied a dagger the people of these lands created. I assume that was why we were here, Dragon Smith?"
"It was." I nodded, pulling a trio of Valyrian daggers from my pack and passing them to Ulthias, Teddy, and the last Goblin whose name I couldn't for the life of me remember. "I was actually looking for swords but those seem to be in short supply here, only managed to find a Xiphos and an axe head with those knives."
"Then our mission was not a complete failure." Ulthias grunted. "Nila, though, favors the short sword."
"Aye, I do indeed." The other Goblin gave a shark-like grin as he turned his almost colorless eyes toward me. "I trust the High Smith and yourself will have devised a method to recreate the metal within a timely manner. May I?" I restrained myself from sighing again as Teddy just smirked at me. I shot a glower back to him as I pulled the short sword from my pack, handing it to the Goblin who took it with a thoughtful frown. "Hm… It is lighter than my blade, yes… A bit wide, though the wasping near the tip is a nice touch." Next, the Goblin found a place a few inches above the hilt and let the blade balance on his finger. "And a good balance, though it could be a bit further for'd." He nodded once, shoving the decaying scabbard through his belt and shoving the sword home as he passed the dagger to his companion. "As compensation for this disastrous mission, these shall be our spoils."
"And why should I let you keep them?" I asked tiredly, used to the Goblin arrogance - and besides, they were entitled to some compensation.
"For I am Nila of Clan Eba-Rol, third in line to the Throne of this world's conclave. This is a meager level of tribute. Be glad I do not claim more in light of your failures, wizard." The Goblin sneered as his companion nearly face-palmed.
"We could leave you here, you know." Teddy said flatly, making the Goblin princeling's arrogant sneer falter for a brief second.
"You wouldn't dare!" Nila hissed dangerously at Teddy. "King Garstal would take your head!"
"No, our King would not." Ulthias said blandly. Nila whirled around to face him but Ulthias simply carried on. "He's a wizard. King Garstal can't touch him until he opens an account with any future banks. That's if you manage to crawl your way back to Westeros to lodge a complaint." Nila just glared at his fellow Hobgoblin but nodded sharply all the same. It was their way. If a Hobgoblin didn't return they were considered dead unless they managed to crawl their way back to Buln or their King, if they did? Great! One more for the ranks.
"Mabjir fevoba, Ulthias." Nila growled. My eyebrow shot up as Teddy just looked confused. Unfortunately, Ulthias stood up with his new daggers glinting dangerously in the haze of lava and smog-filtered sunlight.
"Kiv fevoba joheslunl tol, Nila zvu vum Nilhysk?" The Hobgoblin snarled.
"Teddy, back away, now." I hissed, dragging him back by his arm.
"Ben, what the Hell is happening?"
"Fluza, op joheslunl fevoba, Ulthias vum Furoar." Nila snapped.
"Nothing good." I muttered as I turned to the Hobgoblins. "Oi!" I barked out at the two pissed-off Goblins. "Can we not do this here, of all places!? We don't know what the fuck might happen if we use too much magic!"
"Stay out of this Dragon Smith!" Nila roared, the Valyrian short sword drawn and leveled at Ulthias.
"Indeed. This is a matter of honor now." Ulthias growled, his sharp eyes boring holes into Nila.
"Damn it." I muttered under my breath as I slipped my hand into my back pocket, pulling out a pair of steel discs about the size of half dollars, silently banishing them toward the unsuspecting Hobgoblins. I pegged Nila in the side of the head making him vanish in a flash of blue but Ulthias managed to dodge the projectile. He narrowed his eyes at me before glancing at the empty space Nila had just occupied.
"Where did you send him, Dragon Smith?"
"Moat Cailin. That coin will send you to join him there, if you want to. Or you can stay with us now that he's gone." Ulthias narrowed his eyes again before he snorted and bared his teeth.
"I shall stay, Master Smith. How many portkeys do you carry on you?"
"I've got fifty to the Moat in an expanded pocket. I've made one every day or so since I thought about it." I shrugged at Teddy's strange look and explained. "It takes about as much energy as apparating a foot or so to make a portkey to somewhere you're at. If I made a portkey to here from the Moat? Well, it'd be like apparating that distance."
"Uncle Harry could do it." Teddy said, getting a laugh from me.
"Yeah, but do I look like Harry freakin Potter to you? The man's a magical powerhouse."
"And you're not one?"
"I'm just a bit above average." I grinned and held up my hand with my thumb and forefinger almost touching. "Wasn't always that way, though. Merlin knows I was bad, like really bad my first few years at Hogwarts."
"I remember Uncle Harry's stories, Ben." Teddy chortled, looking at me with a stupid grin stretched across his face as we sat down at the campfire again. "What was that about the jackrabbit and niffler, anyway? Harry never would tell me except to say he would never tell me." I felt my face turn bright red at the memory and shoved it ruthlessly aside.
"A transfiguration lesson that went terribly wrong, and that's all I've got to say about that." I shuddered as I pulled my pack off my shoulders and startled rifling through it. "We have two options, gentlemen." I said as I pulled a trio of ration kits from my pack. "We can stay the night and search this godsforsaken place in the morning light or we can get the Hell out of dodge right now and call this a failure."
"I don't think there's anything else to find here, Ben." Teddy said quietly. "I don't want to run into those live dragons you said were still around here."
"Aye, I agree with Lupin." Ulthias said, after tearing into and swallowing the mouthful of venison that was in his rations pack (just lightly seared in the fire). "You may have a way with the dragons of our home and the monsters in your basement, but I do not trust any beast that calls this place home. Nor do I wish to raise their ire."
"Alright then. Accio." I said, waiting for the disc I launched earlier to slap into my palm. It did with a satisfying thwack before I tossed it to the Hobgoblin. He caught it and disappeared in a flash of blue. "Alright, Lupin, our turn." I grinned, standing up as I slung my pack over my shoulders, then I pulled another pair of coins from my back pocket.
"Finally! Let's get out of here!" Teddy said with his hand out expectantly. I grinned and tossed him one of the two coins. Just before he snatched it, the air was shattered by a massive, monstrous roar.
In the split second before the coin made contact with Teddy and after the roar, my eyes snapped to the source of the tumult and I damn near shat my pants at what I saw.
A shadow - enormous, ragged, and vile - launched itself from the Volcano miles north of where we were standing, looming over the city like a demon of Hell. The dragon's eyes - as green and lethal as the killing curse - glowed like twin beacons in the haze. Its wings spread (ripped and torn as badly as they were) blotting out what little sunlight was left over the city. It was enormous. Even from this far away, I could tell the beast was larger than the skeleton where I found Ancaleon, Oramir, and Inferna. And he was angry. The tail, maced and lined with spines taller than I was, thrashed terribly as the Leviathan beat its wings with wrath blazing in his eyes. Then my Portkey, triggered to activate when Teddy's did, whisked me away in the blink of an eye just after the Dragon opened his mouth, a hellishly orange light flickering to life at the back of his throat.
I fell to my knees as the Portkey let me go, dumping me face-first into the cobbles of my castle. I struggled to get to my hands and knees as I heard Teddy hyperventilating beside me.
"B-Ben?" He managed to gasp out. I looked up and met his eyes as we stared at each other, almost too shocked for words.
"We aren't going back there."
"Never."
XXX
"A Dragon? You, of all people, were scared off from Valyria by a dragon?" Harry asked seriously from his place at the table we were seated at in Rickard's solar. Speaking of, Lord Stark was sitting at the head of the table with his fingers templed under his chin while I, Teddy, Harry, Dad, Uncle Andrew, Dacey, Brandon, and Ryan all were waiting for him to speak.
"That wasn't a dragon." I spat, shaking my head violently. "It was a monster."
"This is troubling, Benjamin…" Rickard said quietly. "You said the beast had green eyes, but what of the scales?"
"Black," I said instantly, "black as a shadow."
"Damn… Then the Cannibal truly did survive all these years." Rickard growled, snatching his tumbler from the table.
"The Cannibal?" Ryan asked. "Is that its name?"
"No…" Dacey said hesitantly. "It's more a title than anything. It was no Targaryen dragon, nor was it tamed by any of the Valyrians though it lived on Dragonstone as early as the time of the Conqueror. It's said that the only beast larger than the Cannibal was Balerion the Dread himself."
"They were wrong," I said, getting everyone's attention instantly. "That… That thing was three times bigger than Balerion was said to be at least. Maybe back in the day Balerion was bigger but that was how long ago?"
"Two hundred years ago, at least."
"And Balerion lived how long?"
"Two hundred years."
"And he was the largest of all the Targaryen dragons?"
"By a fair margin." Brandon grunted. "What're you asking, Agonstark?"
"I'm saying that Cannibal could have been young compared to Balerion and still rivaled his size. Now he's three hundred years older and pissed. As long as he's alive and my dragons aren't grown up, I'm not going back there."
"Seven hells." Brandon muttered darkly. "And your dragons will get to the same size?"
"Ancaleon, Oramir, and Inferna all have the potential to, I'd bet, but the rest probably won't get much bigger than Balerion - if they reach that size at all. Ergarion, Saruli, and Quintus aren't too much bigger than they were when they hatched while Ancaleon is bigger than all of Lord Stark's hounds."
"Dacey, you said it would be a moon turn before the largest three were the size of ponies." Dacey nodded at Lord Stark's statement. "Do we know how long it will be until they're too large to be concealed at the Moat?"
"I'd say two or three years for the smaller ones, my Lord." I said. "As for the largest? It'll be too soon for any of us to be comfortable, I'd reckon."
"And do you think they'll reach the size of the dragon you saw?"
"Gods, I hope not." Brandon muttered as Dacey nodded forcefully.
"Aye, they'd be right terrors if they got to that size."
"Maybe, but I'd give every penny I had to see King Scab's face as three of those monsters swooped over King's Landing!"
"Bah!" Brandon, still chuckling at his own wit, snorted derisively as I spoke up. "I'd rather never see King Scab than see him piss himself. How're things coming along at the Moat?"
"Rather well, actually." I smirked as Rickard nodded. "The Walls are coming along nicely, we have about a week before we have a veritable army of smallfolk starting their march to the north, and now we finally have a man 'of the west,' to hold East Castle."
"You found him?" Rickard asked, slightly surprised. "Where?"
"Braavos. His son was competing in the Sea Lord's tourney to decide who would be his First Sword. Er… Buln won, by the way."
"Oh, he's going to be pissed about that…" Harry winced sympathetically as I simply nodded.
"He was… Oh, Merlin, he was."
"Er, who did you find in - uh… Braavas, right? No… Braavos! Who'd you find in Braavos, Ben?" Ryan asked after the fumble.
"Robard of House Reyne." Brandon reeled like I had smacked him with his betrothed's sigil.
"You found a Reyne!?" The Heir of Winterfell squeaked after regaining some control of himself. "How in the name of the gods, old and new, did you find a Reyne!?"
"It wasn't too hard, actually." I shrugged nonchalantly as Brandon's jaw worked up and down. "I met him in Volantis sometime back and gave him a small gift after he helped me out. Apparently he feels honor bound to help me out here."
"He's being given a castle, how is that helping you? Sounds more like you're helping him out more than the other way around, if you ask me." Ryan pointed out as he leaned back in his seat.
"Because he's being given command of the castle we plan on building at the Bite. He'll be tasked with defending a choke point from the Narrow Sea. As such, he'll have the largest, easiest target on the east coast second to White Harbor and Newcastle. He's not being given a comfortable castle like Tallgarden. I'm making the man work for his home now."
"Highgarden, Ben." Dacey, snickering at my mistake, corrected gently.
"He's not being given a comfortable castle like Highgarden, sorry." I corrected myself as I felt my wife's hand squeeze my thigh gently. "He's being given a fortress, a stronghold. If Tywin wants to come after him then he'll have to go through the Saltspear and the castle being built there - not to mention I want the canal within ballista range of Moat Cailin so we can rain Hell on any ship that slips through Benjen's defenses when he comes of age."
"When will Lord Reyne be here, Lord Agonstark?" Rickard asked curiously.
"Six to eight weeks, my Lord. Somewhere between a moon and a half to two," I clarified, plainly seeing the Westerosi at the table's confusion. "He's on a ship bound to White Harbor from Braavos. We haven't started on reworking the roads yet so those are all still shite and the less said about any voyage the better. So, two months is the best estimate with those kinds of travel conditions."
"Oh…" said Ryan, glibly. "Makes sense to me."
"Shut up, Ryan." I sighed, rubbing my face tiredly. "It also sticks it to Tywin quite nicely. Ugh… Why are we here again?"
"The Crypts." Harry said blandly, glancing at the Crown in the center of the table. "Lord Stark wanted me to lead an expedition down there to see what else we could find."
"Right, right. So what the Hell are we waiting for? An invitation?"
XXX
As it turned out, that was - in fact - what we were waiting on. Lord Stark had apparently sent a few of his more trusted men down into the catacombs to tend to the torches and braziers that were down there and add more so we could actually see what was down there. I'd have been able to see perfectly in my helmet but the rest of the crew were going to need torches or a wand if they wanted to see more than a few inches past their noses.
"Are you sure about this?" Ryan asked quietly. I turned to see him staring up at the enormous ironwood doors that stood wide open before us.
"The Crypts have held House Stark's dead for eight thousand years, Heir Seastark. My ancestors, yours as well, lie in her halls. Be not afraid, they are with us in this place." Lord Stark said over his shoulder, already stepping through the doors. "Come, they await us."
"Among other things." Harry muttered darkly as he walked past me as he attempted to catch up to Rickard.
"Are you ready, beloved?" I looked over at my wife and couldn't help but grin as she stood there in her armor and bearskin cloak, her mace thrust through her belt, and fiddling with her shield straps.
"I am." I said, touching Winter's pommel automatically as my fingers clenched around the handle of my shield as I slung it over my shoulder. For this little mission, we had all decided that it was probably best to be armed and armored - well, Harry did and forced the rest of us to be as well. If there was one thing the Professor didn't play around with, it was the dead. "This shouldn't take long."
"Nay, it shan't, but we must be going, beloved. We don't want to be left behind, do we?" She put her free hand on my breastplate and grinned up at me, swaying her hips as she stepped into the Crypt.
"Damn." Ryan muttered as he took his place at my side. "What a woman."
"What a woman." I agreed easily, clasping his shoulder as we locked eyes. "After you, ladies first and all that." I smirked and gestured to the cavern. He just rolled his eyes, swallowing nervously and looking incredibly uncomfortable in his borrowed armor.
"Come, cousin!" Brandon blared in his usual boisterous way as he dragged Ryan with him into the Crypts while rattling on and on and on the entire way. I would have rolled my eyes if I hadn't come to expect something like that from Brandon already.
"Looks like we get to bring up the rear." Teddy muttered, bouncing from foot to foot as his hair cycled colors like a heat mirage.
"No, I get to bring up the rear. You, on the other hand, are going down there right now, Lupin." I clasped his shoulder and pushed the metamorph in front of me. "Now let's get going. They won't wait forever before they send Dacey to drag us down and she won't be happy if she has to climb those stairs more times than she has to."
"Right… Your wife is right, scary, mate." Teddy chuckled humorlessly as we met eyes. I just shrugged.
"Maybe, but you'll never catch me complaining. C'mon, let's get going."
We descended into the crypt, the darkness and cold granite surrounded us as our feet clattered against the rough-hewn stones of the stairway. Below I could see the flickering light of torches lapping at the walls. But something was wrong. It took me a while but I finally figured it out as my left hand brushed against the wall. The stairs descended counter clockwise…
As a rule, castle stairs were oriented clockwise so a defender from above wouldn't have to expose their body to swing their sword unhindered by the wall. If you were attacking, you would have to fight for every step as the defenders used the stairs themselves as a shield.
The crypts weren't just a tomb, they were another defensive position for the castle. Maybe even the ultimate defensive position in an era that hadn't developed gunpowder yet but did have close air support. Dragons couldn't exactly melt through granite in an instant… Well, there was Harrenhal but it had only a few feet of granite defending it. If these stairs were any indication, Winterfell had furlongs of it. And then there were the heat sinking properties of the surrounding rock which was just as frozen as the rest of the North. A dragon may be able to heat up the granite tremendously but to keep it hot enough to burrow a hole through more and more?
You might as well just dig. It would be about as fast.
With that in mind, I finally reached the bottom of the stairs and joined my wife.
"Took you long enough."
"Sorry, lost in my thoughts." I said as I glanced back over my shoulders at the stairs.
"So you noticed it too?"
"Took me long enough to but I did eventually." I shrugged. "But it's more the thought that a dragon would have issues breaching this place that kept my attention. Though if that's the only entrance, they still could pose a threat."
"How so?" Rickard asked, frowning.
"You and fire breathe the same thing."
"Fire breathes?"
"Not like you and me, no. But if you cover it, it will choke." Rickard nodded his understanding but kept walking all the same. "It burns the air. No air, no fire. If there's not a way for more air to get in here, then dragon fire will just keep eating the air until we're dead."
"This place is too big for a dragon to use all the Oxygen, Ben." Harry said.
"Probably… But do you want to find that out the hard way?"
"Er… No." Harry rubbed the back of his head as everyone looked at him dumbly. "Just follow me."
Together, we walked between the statues of the fallen. Cold faces carved from granite stared at us unseeingly, judging us as we passed under their gazes. Dacey strode through the crypts just as easily as Rickard, Brandon, Ryan, Dad, Uncle Andrew, and I did but Harry and Teddy were visibly unnerved.
"Does anyone else feel like they shouldn't be here?"
"Nay, lad." Rickard said quietly, turning around slightly so Teddy could hear him more easily. "You and your godfather are not of the blood. Our blood. Stark blood. The Old Gods and Starks of yore do not want you here. This is our refuge, our last resting place. You are not a Stark."
"Oh…" Teddy murmured, his eyes drifting to a particularly shaggy Stark statue with a massive Direwolf curled at his feet as he gripped his rusting sword with strained knuckles. Rickard nodded and turned back to face the grim-faced Harry who was still leading us. Harry swallowed once and faced forward once again.
"We're a few floors above it."
"How many?"
"Six."
"Six?" Rickard asked. "The crypt caved in four floors below."
"I uncollapsed it." Harry shrugged. "With magic, there's not much you can't do."
"Very well. Lead on, Master Potter." So he did.
"The strangest thing, though, was that the fifth and sixth floors were in good shape. A bit dusty but they were fine. It's almost like the roof had been collapsed intentionally." Rickard and Brandon shared a look but they kept silent. Harry didn't question it. No one did.
And they walked. The Starks solemnly followed the visibly unnerved Potter as Teddy looked around like he was being watched.
"This place gives me the creeps." Teddy murmured.
"Me too." Harry said from his place at the front. "You said it was the Old Gods who didn't want us here?"
"Aye."
"Just who are the Old Gods, exactly?" Harry asked. I frowned as he asked the question. Weren't the weirwoods the Old Gods?
"The Old Gods just are." Rickard said simply. "They are the trees, the streams, the ice, the fire. They are all around us, they are with us always."
"Then what's the point of the weirwoods?" I asked. Dacey looked at me with a raised eyebrow but I shook my head, nodding slightly toward the Lord Stark.
"Aye, the Weirwood is where the Old Gods' presence is felt strongest. It was said a Greenseer could become one with the Old Gods through the Weirwood, that they could see with their eyes. Could see out of their eyes." Rickard said quietly… No, that wasn't quite the word, was it? No, he said it reverently. "They are with us here."
"Do you join the Old Gods when you die?" Ryan asked.
"Aye, it's what some of us believe. I believe it. You feel their eyes on you here, Potter, Lupin. The Starks of old do not like outsiders among their bones."
"I can tell." Harry muttered, turning down the last bend of the stairs. "This is where the cave in was."
"How were you able to repair it so quickly?"
"Reparo." Harry said. "I can fix anything with a word."
"Incredible…" Brandon breathed. "Anything?"
"I haven't found anything that I can't fix with it." Harry shrugged.
"Not what we're here for." I said, snatching everyone's attention. "We can talk about the limits of magic later, right now we're exploring an artificial cave that's more than likely haunted and the ghosts really don't like outsiders. So, can we get a move on?"
"That would probably be for the best, Ben. How far away are we, Potter?" Uncle Andrew, who had been silent thus far, asked.
"We should be getting close…" Harry said, trailing his hand on the wall until he came to an abrupt stop. "And here we are." He pushed a spot on the wall at about chest height and the wall turned out to be a door. The door was so perfectly hewn that it looked no different than the surrounding wall, there weren't even any visible seams in the rock. I glanced at Uncle Andrew, his look told me everything I needed to know. He thought the door had been carved out by magic too. Harry stepped through the door, popping his head back out when no one followed on his heels. "Well? What are you waiting for?"
Dacey, ever the Mormont, stepped forward with her hand clenched around her mace. I followed close behind her with my hand on Winter's hilt as I stepped into the wand-lit room.
It wasn't huge, maybe twenty feet long by thirty-five feet wide while the ceiling was only ten feet high, but the center of the room was dominated by a simple chair that looked as if it had been cut from a single stone, but not any stone I had seen before. I felt an eyebrow start to creep upward as I put my hand on the left arm of the chair. Warmth shot up my arm and the air seemed to hum in anticipation.
"Ben?" Dacey asked, her left hand on my shoulder. "What's happening?"
"Seven Hells!" We heard from the door. I didn't have to look to know that it was Brandon. "Father, it's the Throne!"
"By the Gods!" Rickard swore, metal rattling against metal as the Stark rushed into the vault. "It's true…" Rickard whispered. I glanced up at him and saw that he was staring at the chair in awe.
"What's so important about it?" Ryan asked quietly, but I heard the tension in his voice. I glanced around the room, seeing that Teddy, Harry, and Dacey were the only three who didn't seem to be affected by the change in atmosphere.
"The Kings of Winter had two thrones, the one in the Great Hall that they used to pass judgment and then there was the second only to be seen by the Stark and their most trusted. My father told me of it and I told Brandon. It's been lost since the time of Torrhen Stark…"
"Who?"
"The King who Knelt, they called him. He knelt to save the North and her people from the Targaryens, from their dragons. He was the King who Saved the North."
"And yet the Lords of the North still curse his name." Dacey spat. "They wanted their ancestors to die in a glorious battle against the Targaryens, the fools."
"They had Dragons back then, didn't they?" Ryan asked, glancing around the room cautiously.
"It's how they won their throne." I said, finally looking away from the chair and examining the room a little closer. There were a few bookshelves, a few sets of bronze plate, and iron weaponry littering the shelves surrounding the rectangular room. Maybe there were a few cool things here but right now I was more interested in the story Rickard was spinning. "How they won the Seven Kingdoms."
"Aye, three monstrous things they were said to be. Aegon came to Winterfell personally on the back of Balerion the Dread. He offered to so graciously allow the Starks to continue ruling the North if Torrhen would only kneel before him. And now here we are and there Aerys sits on that monstrous throne of stolen swords." Rickard spat. "Aegon was a Conqueror, it is the sobriquet Westeros knows him by - Aegon the Conqueror. Not only was he that but he was a tyrant. He did as he pleased and killed those who displeased him."
"But he kept the people who could help him run the Kingdoms." I pointed out.
"Aye, a Tyrant he may have been but a green, foolish boy he was not. He brought an army of five thousand from Dragonstone and toppled each kingdom one by one but his three Dragons would have won his conquest alone. The field of fire proved that."
"The what?"
"The field of fire, Ryan." Rickard said quietly, his voice strained as he glanced at the throne. "It was the single deadliest battle in the history of Westeros, and to call it a battle is an insult to those massacred there. Mern Gardener, Loren Lannister, and the full armies of the Reach and Westerlands were incinerated as quickly as the dragons could fly over the field. The Targaryens claim only four-thousand died that day but the true number is likely much, much higher than that. The line of Gardener was exterminated that day. Aegon claimed the Reach, with the wardenship of the South, and then gave it to the Tyrells who were once but servants to the Gardener kings. Loren survived only to be known as the Last. His son would become the Warden of the West less than a fortnight after the battle."
"Jesus…" Ryan muttered, finally touching the throne himself. He frowned and looked around the room. "Who has the Crown?"
"Pardon?" Rickard, ready to go on another tangent against the Targaryens, wasn't expecting the sudden interruption.
"Sorry, but I… I can't explain it. It's like… It's like something's… I don't know? Calling me?" Ryan said, looking at Lord Stark.
"Be careful, boy." Rickard said, inching forward. "There is a reason this place was hidden away."
"Yes but we don't know why." Andrew added in, unslinging his pack as he took the circlet of bronze from it. He held it up, letting everyone in the room's eyes fall on it. "These were hidden together, right?"
"Aye."
"Well, obviously this Torrhen Stark didn't want the crown or the throne falling into the wrong hands-"
"Targaryen hands."
"Thank you, Brandon, I think that's what was implying." I sighed, looking over at the contrite Stark heir.
"My apologies…"
"They're accepted but you're likely right." Andrew sighed. "Whyever they hid these down here, Torrhen dropped a roof on it and hid this behind a door no one would think to look for. Just, be careful, Ryan." Andrew said, holding the crown out. Everyone held their breath as Ryan took it, pressing it onto his head. Instantly, his eyes went white but he stayed on his feet long enough to sit down on the throne where his head rolled backward against the headrest.
Then his head snapped forward as he panted for air desperately.
"Ryan? Son? What's happening?" Dad asked, kneeling down as he put his hand on Ryan's shoulder.
"I… I'm seeing out of a bird's eyes… I don't know where I am but I see the ocean and a toothpick- oh, sorry, that's a tower - under a super sized ice cube."
"Eastwatch, by the sea… That's at the Wall, boy!" Rickard gasped.
"Ryan, think of the Moat." I said, but something caught my eye even as he panted and gasped. Flickers of light trailed across the walls as sweat beaded on my brother's forehead.
"I- I see it… The walls are almost done." I nodded as I absently removed one of my gauntlets, touching the granite wall behind me to try and steady myself.
Only for white light to explode from the four walls, the floor, and the ceiling itself - blinding me as I staggered backward, my back completely against the wall as I slid down it until I was sitting on the granite.
"Seven hells!" Brandon swore, rubbing his eyes as I blinked the spots out of mine. I looked up, over his shoulder and my jaw almost fell open at what I saw behind the Stark heir. Runes. Hundreds and hundreds of them carved into the granite and filled with bronze until they were flush with the wall itself. And the bronze was glowing.
"Gods…" Rickard whispered, drinking in the layers on layers of runes as I staggered to my feet, doing the same as him. "What is this?"
"You can't read it?" I heard myself ask but it wasn't me working my mouth.
"You can?"
"Aye…" And, to my surprise, I could read it as easily as English.
"These are runes of the first men! You're not even from this world!"
"I'm blood of house Stark and I activated the runes." Again, the voice was mine but I didn't process saying it. "This is a wardstone… Primitive, yes, but monstrously powerful… Why would Winterfell have one of these? Why would it be turned off?"
"Aegon." Rickard breathed, utterly horrified. His eyes were the size of dinner plates. "If he knew Winterfell had magic…"
"He would stop at nothing to find its source and duplicate it." Harry said, his face hard as he studied the glowing runes as well.
"These were not for him to know, I like not that outsiders see this but it cannot be helped. What is absolute is that this was not for the Valyrian's eyes." Came from behind us. My body turned around, still feeling like it was on autopilot as my eyes locked with my brother's. He still had the Crown of Winter on his head but his eyes weren't white anymore, now one was bloody red and the other was as green as an oak leaf.
"Who are you?"
"My name would mean nothing to you. Though I am not the Bloodraven, if that soothes your fears. He has his eyes cast to a future that is falling to pieces under his touch like sand through his fingers. Still he desperately tries to keep the snows from sliding down the mountain with naught though his hands." The man speaking through my brother, using him as a puppet, said quietly. "You have intrigued me, Agonstark. You have changed the song of this world… As you would say, you have thrown a viper in the orchestra."
"I've never said that."
"My mistake, but it is fitting is it not?"
"I suppose."
"Hm. Indeed. You know that should the Valyrians find this place, should they find what you have brought back to this world, they would never see fit to leave you in peace?"
"They wouldn't see fit to leave me alive, you mean."
"And grant you eternal peace?"
"As nice as that sounds, I still have work to do."
"And it is soon due."
"Is it? How long do I have?"
"A second, a century. Time is not absolute, but your destiny will come."
"A prophecy?"
"Nay. Destiny, boy. Every man has one. What will you choose for yours?"
"I don't know."
"Of course you do. Your wife carries it already… Pardon, she carries them already." My eyes grew wider than they ever had before as I met Dacey's eyes - he was just as surprised as I was. "Congratulations, Dragon Smith. She-bear, your fields bore fruit the night you joined your husband in marriage."
"Two months?"
"Aye. Good fortune, She Bear. Dragon Smith, your destiny approaches. What will you do with it?"
"Meet it."
"Excellent. Winterfell is defended, you've seen to it yourself. Go, meet your destiny."
"Who are you?" Rickard asked quietly.
"And what have you done to my son?"
"Hah!" The man using Ryan's body snorted. "My name has long been lost, Stark, but I am not dead… Though perhaps I cannot be counted among the living either…" Ryan' face turned pensive for a moment before the presence shook Ryan's head. "One day, perhaps, you will find my name. Until then, the Others come. Defend the North. Defend the Land. Defend the Living. And perhaps, gods willing, one day we shall meet again." The presence smiled, coughed, and exhaled with a shuddering, awful rattle in his chest once before Ryan's body slumped in the chair, his eyes flashing back to their normal blue-green.
"Er… Wha' jus' happened?" He slurred, looking around the room before his eyes rolled back up in his head. Dad caught him before he could hit the ground while Rickard snatched the Crown from his head but I was hardly paying attention to them, my wife had my full attention.
"Husband… You're to be a father."
"And you're going to be a mother."
"Aye… I'm to be a mother… What're you to do with me?"
"I'll try to keep you safe, love, but you're not going to let me do that are you?" I smirked as Dacey laughed, tears streaming down her face as she threw her arms around my neck and squeezed me tightly.
"No, no I won't."