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Bastier: sorry to hear that man. I'm starting the next story today so maybe you'll like the plot twists in it better.
Javi30: Thank you for your support I'll keep this one up and make an actual plot for it. Maybe the twists will be better.
Guest: k
Jeor
Traitor was his first thought when the boy and his first ranger entered castle black. The boy looked as if he returned from the training yard, a bit of blood on his chest and that was it. Then he had the audacity to bring that white walker woman through his gate unbound. He knew the story of the Night's King and how sleeping with one of the white walkers could steal a man's soul. Was the boy ensnared now? Did they have enough brothers to put him down? What of Benjen, what did he think?
He didn't have to wait for his answers long. The door to his study opened and the boy walked in. His hand brushed over his hair throwing it up in disarray.
"Lord Commander, I'm sorry. The situation was worse than I thought. I don't know if the attack on the ranging party was an official act of war or banditry." Then the boy spoke nonsense. "Wife stealing is something wildlings partake in; I didn't think they'd adopted the practice from the white walkers." Every word out of the boy's mouth sounded like heresy. As if they could relate to humans.
"What are you talking about boy?" Jeor asked.
"The females didn't kill immediately. They captured as many black brothers as they could. I'm unaware of what their fate will be. There is still a language barrier between us." The boy said.
Jeor tried to clear his mind and think about each point as it came. The thought that the attack might have been banditry instead of a true act of war hadn't occurred to him. How was he to know the boy wasn't being controlled?
"Have you slept with the white walker?" Jeor asked.
"No, I've had no time though she seems willing. I'll have to inform my betrothed that I'm taking on a concubine." The boy said. Jeor glared at the child fool.
"Is there no threat of the monster controlling you?" The boy shook his head.
"I'm beyond her power." Arrogance, pride, and heresy dripped from the boy's tongue. It was all he could do to keep his calm.
"What do you plan to do?" Jeor asked.
"I'll return south, and show Lord Rob my findings. Then I'll return to King's landing. Thank you for your cooperation Lord Commander."
The boy turned and left his study. Just like that he was out good men and two white walkers would be turned upon the south. What happens now was up to Lord Rob and the King. Jeor washed his hands of the madness. He had a wall to defend. It was possible he'd need to treat with these white walkers like a wildling tribe.
Morgan
She was dressed in many animal skins. A soft hood covered her head to keep the sun at bay. The black guards scurried about doing the tasks of servants. They prepared the beasts of burden and mounted some themselves. She herself was allowed one and took it graciously. In all her life, she'd never ridden on a living beast. There was never a need to wear any covering or hide her body. It seemed savage to wear the skins of animals when ice armor would suffice.
What would Rhaella think seeing her dressed as a black guard? She smiled seeing the golden one ride his beast with her brother chained to it like a savage's kill. There was no fear that she'd be killed. She witnessed the way the savages took women. Morgan had been taken the same. She'd seen what male savages did to protect their women.
This led her to a conclusion that bordered on insanity. Perhaps they had been going about acquiring males all wrong. Clearly, they were desired by the males. Why not let themselves be taken instead of doing the taking? If both paths lead the same result, then she'd take the easier path.
She heard the men speak in their grunting tongue. A few laughed and even her human laughed. For the first time in her life, she listened to their words and began to decode it.
"Aye, I bet her blue cunt feels like satin." She repeated the words in her own voice feeling cruder with each word. She had no idea what the words meant. She knew the best way to learn was to try.
Her human looked at her. She copied his grunting. "Careful Eric, she'll freeze your pecker off." She repeated the words. The humans laughed and she did too. The grunts while crude felt, to the point.
He pointed to himself. "I'm Mycah." She turned her head. It was a calculated guess. The first word sounded like he was referring to himself.
"I'm Morgan," She said and pointed to herself. He nodded his head and she smiled feeling she'd made a gain.
Three weeks later she'd learned to truly differentiate the grunts and even use them accurately. She'd begun singing in their brutish tongue.
The Dornishman's wife was as fair as the sun,
and her kisses were warmer than spring.
But the Dornishman's blade was made of black steel,
and its kiss was a terrible thing.
The Dornishman's wife would sing as she bathed,
in a voice that was sweet as a peach,
But the Dornishman's blade had a song of its own,
and a bite sharp and cold as a leech.
As he lay on the ground with the darkness around,
and the taste of his blood on his tongue,
His brothers knelt by him and prayed him a prayer,
and he smiled and he laughed and he sung,
"Brothers, oh brothers, my days here are done,
the Dornishman's taken my life,
But what does it matter, for all men must die,
and I've tasted the Dornishman's wife!
"That was a great song Lady Morgan thank you." Benjen said.
"It's no trouble Benjen, I need practice." Morgan said.
She had no idea if the Dornishman's wife was truly worth it but they enjoyed the song. Morgan kept her distance from the fire as the blessedly cold night made the warm bodies shiver.
"If I'd known there were women like you below the ice I'd dive in." She covered her mouth and laughed politely. A tip from Benjen.
"I hope you pack you pockets full of hot coals then. That's how my sister Rhaella kept Allister alive." Morgan said. She smiled kindly to the black guards. Soon, they'd willingly leap into the arms of her sisters.
She looked to the golden glowing horse. The horse that carried her brother looked no worse. It took its burden well despite the cold. Morgan knew how fragile creatures of warmth could be. As she watched the horse she felt the presence of gold. Mycah was always watching.
"Is he still alive?" Benjen asked. She turned back to the black brother started. Sometimes it was hard to think of them as anything but jailors.
"Rhaella is a braggart. She made preparations. There was fire, a feathered bed, and enough food to keep him in good health for years. Mine died of the black rot." She muttered.
"So, you didn't mean to kill him." She shook her head. Killing him held no value. There was no shortage of servants.
She looked back at Mycah. In his hand was the controlnoid the brainbox of the prototype man slayer. Or Asura walker in the grunting speech. Above the ball of magic and rock was a golden matrix. Every single line of enchanting language was laid bare. Should she teach him to show loyalty or wait until he inevitably learned their enchanting language.
"Why were we attacked?" Benjen asked. She sighed.
"The war between ice and fire is about to begin again. Why don't you join our side? It will be great you won't have to die and my sisters will sing to you all." Morgan said.
"Morgan we aren't on either side." Mycah said. She turned to him.
"Then why are you manning the wall?" Morgan asked.
"To keep the raping, cannibalistic savages out of our land." Mycah replied.
"Don't worry they won't be a problem for much longer. A few more years at the most." The camp had frozen at her words. She smiled. "Who wants to hear the Dornishman's wife again?" She asked.
One of the men raised his hand and she began singing.
Most of the camp had gone to sleep except for Mycah and herself. They weren't far from Winterfell. When they arrived the fun would begin. Her Mycah would offer her brother to his lord. Proof of the existence of the people. Was eight thousand years really that long. She was forty solar cycles and would live so long as she wasn't killed. Only obsidian and fire enchanted metals could kill her.
Rob
Having Jon with him felt right. It felt like this was how it should have been. He'd given his brother the duties of a castellan and the title. Right now Jon had taken a few men at arms and began patrolling Winterfell's territory. He'd taken to the task with a determination only Jon had. With that duty taken care of he focused on managing his estate. The Steward and his clerks helped but the lord made all final decisions. With his lady mother gone it was up to him to keep his household and the wider north in order.
Theon burst into his solar his eyes wide as a ghost. "Rob, Mycah's back with two white walkers and your uncle. The girl's a looker Rob do you think she'll be my salt wife." Rob stood up his eyes wide. Greywind rose to follow him.
He was too late to stop Arya from racing across the estate and jumping to hug the wizard. The boy Mycah held his sister as if it was the most natural thing in the world. A true born girl hugging a commoner. If Mycah wasn't a wizard and if he had spoken falsely, Rob would have shown him northern justice.
Mycah dismounted and gave a bow as did the black brothers. The white walker woman didn't dismount. She only stared on with boredom. He felt his britches tighten at the sight of her. Her teats were large as any he'd seen and her waist was impossibly trim. Then Mycah stood without his order walked over to his golden horse, yanked the white walker off and tossed it to Rob's feet.
"As promised proof that white walkers exist." Mycah nodded and looked around. His eyes flashed golden for a moment then he calmed.
"Arya, it seems your brother chose not to heed my warning. None of his bannermen have arrived. We have been gone from your father for a too long. Let us return to his side. I'm sure he misses you." His little sister nodded as if it were the simplest thing in the world.
"What are you doing?" Rob demanded.
"I'm going to king's landing with Arya and Morgan." Mycah said.
"I've not given you leave to go." Rob said. He was lord wizard or not he had to respect that.
Then the boy laughed it was whole and hearty. Then the white walker joined in.
"I didn't know your nephew had such a sense of humor." The white walker said. He heard her speak through a thick accent.
"That wasn't a joke lady Morgan. He is lord and this is his land. I'm confused, Rob why didn't you call your bannermen." Benjen said.
Rob took a breath and thought quickly. It was obvious that this wizard held unknown powers. That's why he offered the betrothal to Arya. It's what any lord would do.
"I'm ordering as lord of the North and asking as your future good brother." Rob said.
"Rob what are you talking about?" Arya asked.
"I've seen the way you look at each other. Arya, I was going to give you the final say."
"Perhaps nephew, we should discuss in house business in your solar." Benjen said.
"Why is the white walker coming too?" Arya asked.
"I've taken her as a concubine. Its traditional." Mycah said. Rob slapped his face and knew this wouldn't go well at all. What would his mother say? What would father say?
"What does that mean?" Arya said.
"Ah, important lesson. The most important inheritance a cultivator can give their children is their spells, cultivation techniques, and treasures. In that order. Treasures are often unwieldy from generation to generation. By the way Rob, will I need to make a banner." Mycah said.
He didn't know what Mycah was talking about. From what he knew Mycah was the son of a butcher. His last name was Butcher. If he wanted a new name Rob could give him one. But what did he meant to do with this white walker and his sister?
"I still don't get it." Arya said.
"Pilots take multiple wives, concubines, and war brides." Mycah said.
"Mother said that's an abomination that is practiced in the essos." Rob muttered.
Arya was silent which didn't bode well for Mycah or his plan to bind him to the north. Morgan giggled.
"So, does that mean inheritance is a bloody affair among wizards?" Morgan asked.
"Pilots, we are not wizards." Arya said. Rob heard the word we and felt a bit of hope.
They finally reached his solar and he made his way to his seat and plopped down in it. Greywind took his usual spot.
"Actually, inheritance is handled rather bloodlessly. When an heir shows they are ready, we abdicate a little at a time. We of course hold seniority and can step in if needed. For us running an estate isn't as important as improving upon our skills. Of course, I was an orphan adopted into what you could call an ancient clan." Rob heard the words and didn't know what they meant. He knew that Mycah was more than he let on. Did he have memories of a previous life?
"Did they have a sigil?" Benjen asked. Rob listened in. A lot could be learned about a house by its sigil.
"Aquila, the two headed eagle." After he said it, he took a quill from Rob's desk and drew the sigil. It was and eagle with one eye. Then Mycah brushed his hand over the sigil turning it golden.
"Congratulations Arya, in less than a month you've reached the third rank. Let me give you something to practice while you meditate." His sister perked up at that. "Watch my hands."
"Are you just going to forget about the second wife?" Benjen said. He wanted to glare at his uncle.
"I'm a pilot now uncle or one in training." Then she looked back at him. "Rob, I'm not mad at you for offering my betrothal. It's your right. I'm mad you didn't tell me anything." Then she turned to Mycah. "As for you and you." She pointed at the white walker. "We will have words." Arya said it just like father would have. He wished Jon was here to see it.
Mycah took a leather-bound journal from his pack. "Lord Rob, I suggest you implement these changes to the north. It will improve the lives of everyone." Mycah said. Morgan and Benjen snorted at the wizard's words.
He opened the journal and found sketches and basic instructions. Within the pages of this book described techniques to craft items called toilet paper, indoor plumbing, hot water heaters, and a pressurized pump. From the most complicated parts to the simplest each was described. There was a knock at the door.
"Lord Stark Tyrion Lannister wants to see you sir."
Rob sighed. "We're done, I'm sure it'll get out that a white walker is roaming about anyway. Let him in."
"I heard the brilliant young mind who gave old town the idea for the printing press has returned. By the gods, we must have just missed each other." Tyrion strode forward on his wobbly legs.
"Lord Rob what is that you got there. Could it be another brilliant idea?" The smallest Lannister asked.
"My lord, I wouldn't think you'd be interested in indoor plumbing. Hot water at the turn of a knob with drains built to carry your waste away. Pipes to carry waste far away are especially boring." Mycah said.
"Fine, you hooked me are you happy now? How does one become an inventor and mage at the age of twelve?" Tyrion asked. Rob would like to know that too.
"I lived, I died, and now I live once more." Tyrion walked over. Rob sighed and handed him the journal.
"It seems you attempted to idiot proof this one. Each part is pain snakingly drawn. What is this note about urine to fertilize land?" Tyrion asked.
"Human urine isn't possessed by evil spirits." Mycah said.
"You're a wizard. Do you mean actual evil spirits or are you treating us like dullards?" Tyrion asked. Rob felt a bit affronted that his future good brother was treating them like idiots.
"You aren't dullards you were taught by men with limited knowledge. Those who taught me were a bit less limited." Tyrion grinned.
"Do you hear that Maester Luwin to him all of you learned men are lackwits." Tyrion said and took a drink of ale.
Rob sighed and decided to get things back on track. "Maester he didn't insult you or your order. He's trying to explain a complicated concept to lords without a background in what he considers basic knowledge." Rob said.
"I'll explain as best I can." Mycah said.
"The world is covered in tiny life forms too small to see. These lifeforms can be beneficial or destructive. When the wrong kind get inside of you it can make you sick. When its bad enough and spreads quickly enough you call it the plague. A healthy person's urine doesn't contain very many of these tiny creatures. If sealed for a week it should contain none." Mycah said.
"That doesn't make me feel uncomfortable at all." Tyrion muttered.
Fortunately, after a week Mycah hadn't taken Arya and his white walker second wife with him. Mother would have words to say about that, father too. Tyrion on the other hand took to the new project with passion. It took very little time when an intelligent man like Tyrion and someone as powerful as Mycah worked together.
Winter town's public bathroom was up and running. Most of the toilets were stone and the seats wooden with iron hinges. A simple push of a lever removed waste and carried it through a pipe to a treatment plant. Rob paid coin for men to work there. Then what Mycah coined class A shite was taken to the testing field. A small farm where the soil was barren. It didn't smell as foul as Rob thought it would.
Another four days after that wintertown's public bathhouse was opened. For some coin anyone could rent a room and bath themselves. It was making coin enough to start paying off the investment. The best part of this experience was the new jobs some of the small folk took. Plumbers they were called. They had already begun installing private plumbing in the homes of the wealthier northern merchants.
More people were making requests and paying coin to have plumbing installed. The north was changing and for the better.
Author's Note: Ok guys this one had no prepared plot at all as most of you realized. I've built a good plot for my next story which will start with a long epilogue. Don't expect a new chapter until Friday at the earliest. Thank you for reading and drop a review if you want.