Red Lion Amongst the Direwolves
Magi X Game of Thrones
Crossover
OC
Summary: Megara was a slave before Muu Alexius freed her. Since she is too young to join the troops, she stays behind and train hard to become a great warrior. Her dream is to become a part of Muu's Household. Life is peaceful until a failed experiment blast her away to another world. Eddard Stark found her and took her in. Let's see how the game turns out with a Fanalis joining the fray...
Disclaimer: I do not own either of the series. Each of them belong to their respective creators
Warning: OCs, grammar errors, typos
CHAPTER 4
Maester Luwin finally open the cast on Megara's right arm. Arya let out a cry of joy when the last of the bandage fell to the floor. Her friend have a excited expression as she check her arm. She is looking at it with a rather serious look. But Arya knows that's how Megara looks like when she's excited. It may scares little Beth and Jeyne Poole but once you get over it, Megara don't look that intimidating. Father is intimidating but he's nice and honourable. Why should they treat Megara any different?
"Thank you Maester Luwin" Megara smiled at him. Arya noted that she have no trouble saying those words. No hesitation nor wrong vowel. Their lessons are paying off. Maester Luwin smiles back at her, seeming to be satisfied with her words. "Let's go Arya" She grab hold of Arya's hand with her good hand. Both of them run out from Maester Luwin's office laughing.
"What should we do now? Practice swords? Climbing? Riding horse? There's so many things to do!" Arya grins, giddy with the notion that they can fully play now. Megara enjoys watching the men practice, as well as climbing. She's a bit awkward with horse riding though. It doesn't matter. Megara is like Jeyne Poole is to Sansa. She's her friend. Her first female friend. Which is saying a lot.
Megara is so different... Not just with her looks but with her behaviour as well. When they are alone, Megara would lift her skirt to her knees and tie them up. Septa Mordane would faint at the sight of bare calves. Megara also don't like to wear shoes. She is careful enough to not get mud on her dress and face, but her feet will be as dirty as Arya after playtime is over. She is quick to wash her feet though so Septa Mordane never caught her. Arya will have mud left on her somehow, so it's hard to get away. Arya note the weird marks around Megara's ankles. Her brothers and Theon have discussed the possibility that Megara was a slave. Possibly running away from the slave traders and smugglers. They can't ask her that though. Megara is not fluent enough in speaking the Common language.
Megara looked thoughtful for a moment before grinning wide. "Kitchen?" She suggested. Arya laughed. Megara, always hungry. She eat like a horse. At least her table manner is good enough to not make Sansa cringe.
"Kitchen it is then!" Arya pull her friend along. "Maybe they have pies or lemon cakes or puddings!" Megara licked her lips at that. "After that we can go to the yard and play-" She abruptly stop when a figure block their way. Septa Mordane is looking at them with a disapproving look. Well, it is aimed to Arya more than Megara. Her friend have yet to have the chance to sew. Up until now... "Good after Septa"
"Tsk tsk Arya. Do you know what time is it?"
"It's... Time to practice our sewing..." Arya let go of Megara's hand.
"Correct. Now that Megara's arm is healed, she can join our lesson. Come children." There is no room for argument. Arya shoot a look of exasperation to Megara. She give her an encouraging smile but Arya can see that she's nervous. This will be her first sewing lesson. Megara can certainly dance, with those nimble feet of hers. Singing is something she doesn't mind as well. But sewing? Arya can't help but wonder if her skill will be as bad or... worse.
Her sister Sansa and Jeyne Poole are already in the room, waiting for them. Needle and thread ready in their hands. Septa Mordane give them a head start as she focus on Megara. Her friend looked very troubled. Her eyes turn intimidating as she struggles to put the thread into the hole. Her hands quivers. A bead of sweat trickle from her forehead when Megara finally able insert the thread. She glances at a impatient Septa Mordane before starting to work.
"Ow!" Megara yelped when the needle pricked her finger. It didn't help when Septa Mordane looked at her disapprovingly. Arya tear her gaze away when the septa look her way. She wish the lesson would end soon... It's clear that Megara is even more miserable than she is. Arya dare to sneak another peek. Septa Mordane is instructing her with sharp tone. Megara bit her lip, as if trying to not get upset.
"Megara don't glare. Ladies must not look as angry as you are right now." Arya is not sure if her friend fully understand that but the tone Septa Mordane use is clear. "Don't force your needle. Don't tug it. You'll stab someone's eye-"
Riiiiiiiip
Both Sansa and Jeyne look up from their work. They all stare at the cloth in Megara's hand, which now have a very apparent rip in the middle. She fearfully look up. Septa Mordane is gaping at her. A look of disbelieving on her face. She quickly recovers though. "No Megara. This is unacceptable. Just because you don't have a good start, you can't just rip the fabric. Now we have to do it from the beginning. Again."
Megara don't bother with her glaring anymore. She's looking at the cloth as if it's her lifelong nemesis.
"Don't glare" Septa Mordane chastise her but don't bother hiding her glare at Megara either.
Night finally came to Winterfell. Megara slowly open her eyes, looking out at the window. They have crescent moon tonight. No one should be awake at this hours... Except the howls and all sort of animals in the woods. Not that they are any match for a Fanalis. Throwing her blanket, Megara get off from the bed. She like Winterfell at night the best. No one would see her. They're too busy being asleep. Not being able to move like usual is like a slow torture. And gods, she need to move. Today's sewing fiasco made the rest of her day sour.
It maybe summer at the moment in this world but Winterfell still have snow. Fanalis are still susceptible to the cold, so Megara put on a cloak. She breathed in the cool night air, feeling the wind touches her skin. Her cloak spread like wings as she jumped down from the window. This is it. The adrenaline she's seeking for. Not as much as she usually have back home... But every little bit is precious. She will go nuts if she don't work out. Unfortunately she must do it in the the dead of the night, in the woods even, to make sure no one saw her.
She landed on the ground. Megara couldn't contain her grin as her toes curled on the dirt. Being barefoot is the best after all. Too bad she can't go barefoot all the time. Only in Arya's presence when she can act unladylike... And even around her she must be careful. Careful and patient. Those two words haunts her permanently. But when the sun sets, she can lower her guard. Just a bit.
Megara wonders around. She walk past the kitchen, library tower, the kennels. One of the hounds looked at her when she walk past before laying down its head. They are used to her wondering around at this hour. Megara presses on. The walls of Winterfell stood high and mighty. The castle is defended by two massive granite walls with a wide moat between them. The outer wall is eighty feet high, while the inner is one hundred feet high, with a wide moat between them. Impressive for men but they pose no trouble for Fanalis. The buildings in Remano is just as mighty.
The thing that make Winterfell different is the Godswood. Maester Luwin explained it to her sometime ago. The godswood is where the First men worship their gods. The old gods people on the south called them. The place is dark and old. In the center is a small, dark, and cold pool with an ancient weirwood heart tree. The wood is as white as bones and its leaves blood red. They carved a face to the tree, saying that the old gods watch over them through those eyes. To be honest, it unnerved her. Megara can tell that there's something weird with that particular tree. It reminds her a bit of Lady Scheherazade yet there's something else... When Megara first lay her eyes on the weirwood, her instinct tells her that it's dangerous. Like something unknown is watching her. She don't know if it's a friend or foe. A magician will know better. Too bad that she's not one... Then again, Fanalis are barely human.
Megara start to run. The godswood give more cover for her with its tall trees. She dash, jump and tumble over. It's her real playtime. Megara climb onto a tree. Being at high places is the best also. It doesn't take long for her to be at the very top, looking over the godswood. Only the walls and the weirwood tree stood taller than her. Megara is tempted to jump over to the wall... But a guard might see her. Even with her speed, news would travel in the following morning. Bran already saw her, what if the second time it will be an adult who saw her? Too many risks.
Still... It's been a month since she came here. Sooner or later, her Westerosi will be fluent enough to properly communicate with the residents here. At that moment, Lord Eddard will start asking questions. You can't go against someone who rescues you, moreover the lord who allows you to stay in his castle. How in the world would she explain that she's from another realm and magic brought her here? What would he do if they found out about her power? There are 2 possible scenarios. They banish her out of fear or let her stay and work for them. The second option is preferable but Megara knows that she can't pledge her loyalty to them. To repay back their generosity? Sure. But as their servant...? She can't. She will only follow Big Bro Muu.
On the bright side, they won't sell her to slave traders. Slavery is banned here in Westeros. The Seven Kingdom have a pretty strict law. Almost all crimes have execution as punishment. Another option is having 3 of your fingers cut off. Or join the Night's Watch. Maester Luwin said it's an organisation where the members watch over a gigantic wall. How gigantic though? Megara would love to compare it to the Great Rift... Too bad she never been there.
'I wonder how everyone's doing right now...' Megara look up to the moon. At a night like this, there will be parties back home. Reim people love banquets and parties. Big Bro Muu will be his charming self and people surround him. Big Sis Myron dressing up and mingling with the nobles before getting impatient. Razol and Yaqut devouring the food. Her friends will be at home, either staying up late to chat or already in deep slumber. Remano will still be bright even though it's nightfall, with all the parties going on. Lady Scheherazade watching over them from afar...
Megara lean to the tree, legs dangling as she sat on a branch. She misses them. She miss her family, her home, everything. Winterfell and the people there are nice, but she will never be one of them. She belongs in Reim, with her kin, being free. Here, she is chained. Her secrets are her chain. She can just told Lord Eddard, Megara knows that. But there's just too many what ifs. Even with her Fanalis prowess, it doesn't guarantee anything that she can survive on her own in this world. She still need money, food, clothes... She can look for a job in her travel but who would hire a 10 year old? Showing them her strength will attract more bad people than trustworthy ones. Megara sighed.
She's so tired... Tired of hiding. Tired of restraining herself. Tired of feeling alone... All she wanted is to go home. She want to see everyone. She want to be a member in the Fanalis Corpse. She want to grow up... At her real home... After weeks of holding it in, Megara finally allow herself to cry. Her sobs sounds faint in the godswood... But Megara can't help but wonder if the gods of Westeros hear her.
Fanalis can't do delicate work (like Morgiana unable to set up a single domino for instance). It must be mighty difficult for Megara to sew.
Megara being homesick. Poor baby
I'm sorry for the long update... I'm currently busy and having writer block =.=
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