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Chapter 6

After long and hard deliberation, I've decided to keep all of the Titans' abilities. There were a few I was going to omit for the sake of realism (Fire Wall, Flame Core, Arc Wave, etc…), but fuck it, it's easier to keep them, and really doesn't change anything if I remove them or not. They're still OP in the GoT world.

I won't be doing health regeneration and infinite ammo for pilots and Titans, though, that's just fucking stupid. They're as brittle without armor like us.

The People Of Westeros Better Hope Peace Wasn't Foregone; Because They've Yet To See The True, Titan Paragon!

Chapter Six: The Open Palm And The Titanium Fist

As it turned out, living in Winterfell wasn't as convenient as Ash once thought. Five days in, and she was still avoided by anyone who had sight of her. Though that wasn't what made it difficult, in fact it made living in Winterfell a little easier. It was the lack of elevators, roads, and the constant stream of questions from the measter that made things annoying.

"You say you can harvest energy from the sun?" Luwin asked in wonderment. "Incredible!" Yes, solar energy, the most basic, near-infinite source of energy with little-to-no waste, truly a marvel of engineering. Now as long as he didn't ask about nuclear power.

"It is one source, yes," Ash said neutrally as she scanned through a historic tome within the measter's office. She wondered what he would've thought about the concept of the Dyson Sphere, likely give the man a heart attack, which sounded like a viable way to get rid of him.

"To think you can harvest energy from winds as well, truly astonishing to have nature itself work for you." She regretted showing him the diagram of a wind turbine a few days ago.

The book she was reading said little, just some history of the Targaryen dynasty and how it came to be, but she still placed each page she read onto the scanner and sent the information to the Draconis for research and logging.

When Luwin first saw it, he was marveled how the words of the book were written perfect on the scanner's display, especially when she graced his request and printed out a book of his that looked as though it'd fall to dust at the slightest breeze. The man might've looked at the machine as though it was a god to be revered.

She would've sighed if she had lungs and a mouth, and closed the tenth book she fully scanned that morning. "Another failed venture?" Luwin asked, and she nodded.

She must've scanned two-hundred books since arriving, and none of which held any weight for the initiative. Some mentioned magic and its power, which, sadly, might be the only clue to the Ark. Marder's face soured when she recommended looking into the logged instances of magic, but he'd try it for no other reason than it's just possible that it was the Ark.

"This is the last book in your possession that spoke of Targaryens?" Ash asked, and he nodded. She had to admit, the man had an impressive collection of books, some so old they date hundreds of years, those she had to read and scan with care. Fortunately her robotic hands were dexterous when they needed to be.

A knock on the door, having the measter widen his eyes. "Gods, is it time to teach the children already?" he asked himself as he looked out the window. "My, how time passes when discussing fascinating subjects." Not for her, she felt every bit of it.

As Ash picked up another book to read through, the measter went and opened the door to see three Stark children and a guard, who happened to be Robb Stark and was merely guiding his three youngest siblings to make sure they didn't miss their tutoring.

"Yes, children, come in," Luwin said as the trio walked in, hesitant at the sight of her. The youngest, Rickon Stark, hiding behind Brandon when Ash turned her mask to them before going back to her book.

"Rickon, we've talked about this," Robb said when he walked in, and knelt to meet his brother's eyes. "Lady Ash is a guest, she'd do you no harm." True, though she'd kidnap him should the order come. "Now take your seats, we'll begin our lessons shortly."

The trio made sure to keep their distance from her, which suited her just fine, though she often attracted their attention when she put the page on the scanner. While it would be the only attention she'd have received, the eldest approached her with clear intent.

"Is there something you need, Robb Stark?" she asked.

"My lord father received a letter from King's Landing this morning," Robb replied. "It's a response to his request for an audience between you and the king." About time. Five days here wasn't without its annoyances. "Father requested me to bring you to his office."

She nodded and stood up from her new book. Ash made sure her pistol and knife were still on her, and looked to the young lord. "Lead the way, Lord Robb Stark." The boy nodded and turned around, giving his farewells to his younger siblings.

She followed him out to the corridor, where the older Stark's ward and his bastard son stood in wait. The three along with Robb made a little entourage of their own, often bickering annoyingly or trying to one-up another, as they so loved to yell where she could hear and likely any other time.

The mopey one gave her a quick bow of the head and looked away, while the other one had a flash of disgust before finally looking away. The days she'd been here had met with similar reactions, not that she mingled with them to get used to her. Even Robb when he talked to her was very rigid.

The young lord took the lead, followed by his half-brother and friend, with herself close behind them. None of them said anything, besides a few comments to the other not including her. Thankfully they were silent whenever they knew she was close in a room nearby, as if the thick stone walls weren't enough to mitigate sound.

Speaking of walls, the inside of this castle was shockingly warm, to the point she thought her thermometer was malfunctioning. After consulting with HQ, she brought the issue up to Luwin, and it turned out that hot water from a spring flowed through the walls to warm its occupants. Her sonar scan backed his claim, there was indeed a hollow cavity, and thermal scans showed warm fluid coursing through. It was primitive, but surprisingly advanced for this era.

Guards she saw on her way to Eddard's office were plenty, holding similar reactions to the Greyjoy boy when they saw her. She never responded to the whispered insults or the sneers when she passed, why would she? As long none of them tried to attack, the relation between the IMC and the Starks was to be maintained.

Up the stairs and down a hallway, Ash saw the familiar door, Eddard Stark's office door. She came here once a day to report anything about her stay here. Anybody who seemed particularly violent, anything Eddard could help with to suit her needs. Topics that showed he was complying and assuring that the agreement was kept on his end.

Usually it was her alone being summoned, but today it seemed that Eddard preferred his own son bring her here. Essentially VIP delivery, which showed just how important this letter from King's Landing was.

Robb rapped on the wooden door. "Father, I come with Lady Ash as you requested," he said as he opened the door, revealing the Lord of Winterfell and his steward, Vayon Poole looking over documents at his side.

"Thank you, Robb, you may leave and continue with your morning with Ser Cassel in the yard," Eddard said with a nod and looked to her. "Come in, Lady Ash. I hope I didn't take you away from anything important."

The lord's son nodded and left, closing the door behind her as she walked in. "This morning's research hasn't shown the results I want, so you haven't interrupted anything," Ash replied. She liked to think she's scraping away the useless books, with the one she needed soon coming up. . . unless it was a pointless venture since the beginning, which would be more than disappointing.

Ned offered her a seat, which she declined, but she did move to stand in front of his desk. Eddard then picked up small strip of paper, one she knew was used to send messages via ravens.

"This is the reply from King's Landing to my request for your audience with the king," the lord said. He sounded almost relieved for some reason. He stretched it across and read aloud. "To Lord Eddard Stark of Winterfell, Warden of the North. After much deliberation within the king's court, we accept your request and shall give your resident, Ash of the IMC, an audience with his grace, King Robert Baratheon, the first of his name. However, certain information has come up that demanded my immediate attention, and shall provide you with the time of the audience at a later date within the month. With best regards, Lord Jon Arryn of the Eyrie, Warden of the East, and Hand of the King."

The man took a long breath after he finished reading the message and leaned back onto his chair. "It seems your request has paid off, Lord Stark," Ash said with a nod. Granted, it seemed like she'd need to wait a month until she knew when the meeting was, but it was progress.

Still, why did Stark look uncomfortable?

"It seems like it, it's just. . . why not give me the date in this message?" He shook his head. "Forgive me, I've slept little, my restlessness has caught up to me," Eddard said, dismissing his concern as just restless paranoia. "This is a message from Lord Jon Arryn, he's an honourable man and I'll ask him to aid you once you're there."

Ash only nodded, but Eddard was right, what was so important that this Jon Arryn had to postpone scheduling for a month? It was inconvenient, irritatingly so, but she'd just have to put up with it. She had enough books here to keep her busy during that time.

"And what of Oldtown?" she asked. "I assume you sent a message to them as well."

He nodded to her, then to Vayon to retrieve another strip of paper, similar in size as the one before. "This was their response," he said with a sigh as he read. "To Lord of Winterfell, Eddard Stark, Warden of the North. After some discussion with the conclave, the archmeasters and I respectfully reject your request to assist this resident of yours, Lady Ash of the IMC for too many reasons to write in this message, you may refer to Maester Luwin for what those are specifically. Sincerely yours, Archmaester Sandhu of the Citadel." He set the paper down on his desk.

That was it? Might as well have written 'No' and saved on the ink. "That is disappointing," she commented. They supposedly had more ancient texts, more books than any place Westeros, their denial can't be accepted.

"The archmaesters aren't known to be accepting of anything they don't see themselves," he quickly said, as though her comment was a threat. While it wasn't, it was telling of what they would do. "While the Citadel doesn't allow women into their libraries, I assume it's more of the fact they did not believe me of your nature." A sound explanation, as though rehearsed. He was prepared for their rejections, wasn't he? "After your meeting with the king and his council, I'm certain they'd change their answer."

'They'd better,' Ash thought. She didn't come all the way here and scan books just to be stopped so soon, the IMC certainly wouldn't take it sitting down. "I understand. The IMC and I will be patient about Oldtown." Eddard visibly relaxed just from that.

They still have an opportunity with King's Landing and their library, and considering it's the seat of power with its own history of 'magic', it should prove fruitful. . . or as fruitful as in Winterfell. Most of the books here spoke of magical examples like White Walkers, Children of the Forest, frost spiders, or even ice zombies, all of which involved north of the Wall.

Ash wasn't sure if the fact both current IMC bases being already there was good or not. If 'magic' was found north of the Wall, then why have they yet to experience anything? Marder was probably right, records of magic was probably nonsense, but they still needed to cover their bases.

Eddard gestured for his steward again, and handed him several more messages. "I've asked for the other noble houses in the north to send their books here for your research," he said. "Those that speak of history and magic as you requested. The first set should be here in two days, and all of them in a fortnight at the latest."

If Ash was honest with herself, she'd admit she was a bit surprised. The IMC would've surely demanded access to more books, but it seems Lord Stark actually took the extra step before they asked.

"Thank you, Lord Stark, I'll be sure to inform the IMC of your efforts to help." They already know, of course, everything she sees and hears, they see and hear. At least her handler does, and likely was already informing the top brass. And it looked like they had a response, as indicated by the message on her HUD. "I'm also to inform you that the first tribute will arrive in three days via land." The message said Samson, but she simplified it for his sake.

He widened his eyes a little, as though he forgot the IMC's end of the deal. "I'll be sure to inform the guards of this, thank you, Lady Ash." Probably best to avoid any accidents. "That is all I have for you, unless there's something you wish to add?" She shook her head. "Then that's all, thank you for meeting with me."

She only nodded slightly before turning, opening the door and leaving the office. She kept an eye on her motion-tracker, to 'see' what's happening inside the lord's office. Two blips were close to one another, and it stayed that way for almost a minute before moving apart. Seemed Vayon and Eddard had something to talk about; plans, deliberation, advice, or maybe even resistance from Poole's end? All she could safely assume was it had to be about her or the IMC, why else until only after she left?

'It doesn't matter,' she thought as she made her way back to Luwin's office to scan more books. The Westerosi people are complying, and she could tell Lord Eddard understood the danger IMC posed, he wouldn't try going against them, for his and his people's sake.

If he does, it was a bigger problem for Westeros than it was for the IMC.

"What in the name of fuck is that?" one of the people beside Ygritte exclaimed, one she would've said as well if she wasn't speechless at the sight of a high, black wall. Not as high as the Wall, but it seemed just as intimidating.

"Aye, it looks like the stories are true, some crows decided to fucking make a castle here," another one, Barmir, said, and spat on the snow. "Fucking cunts, think they're making move on Mance?"

Tormund shook his head. "No, that's not it," he said as he moved closer to the tree line, still ways away from the black wall. "You remember the poor fucker who came to camp a few days ago, the one wailing at every sound of hammer hitting metal?"

Ygritte and the rest nodded, skittish was making light of the bastard. He kept twitching and fidgeting, terrified of even little rabbits that pop out of bushes. It was funny at first, but then it grew dull and had her think of what turned him that way.

One thing he kept saying did stand out, however. "He kept talking about a black wall," Ygritte said. Well, talked in the sense of repeating the same word while rocking his body, going to sleep only when someone punched him unconscious rather than shouting through the night about fire and smoke erupting form the ground. "You think he's talking about that thing?"

Again, Tormund shook his head. "We'd see more crazy fuckers like him if the place was this close to Hardhome." He eyed it suspiciously. "But I don't see other places with a black wall, so fuck if I know."

"It has to be the fucking crows," a man, Varik, said angrily. "Those cunts practically piss black, wouldn't surprise me if they make walls of black ice from it." His jape got its share of amused laughter, but not from Tormund, and certainly not from her, she was too focused on the black wall.

While it was distant still, it was interesting to note that there was nothing but shallow snow. No trees, boulders, or even a bush, it was completely devoid of nature for two-hundred or so meters. If these were crows, then they must've had thousands to clear the area so quickly without them knowing.

But what if Tormund was right, that they weren't crows? The first thing that comes to mind was White Walkers, but it couldn't be, and did it have something to do with the distant roars she heard over a month ago?

"I say we go back to Hardhome, get more men, then raze and loot this place," one suggested, which was fucking stupid considering the wall was practically wide enough to wrap around Hardhome a hundred times over. This wasn't something men with climbing spikes can-

"The fuck's that sound?" she wondered, hearing a strange rumble, then screeching metal. She nocked an arrow and searched for the source. It was the black wall, a segment of it opened with a distant audible creak.

Before anyone could even comment, something came through, several of them, in fact. Ygritte could see them slightly, if only just due to the distance. Large wagons moved to the tree line, not anywhere close to them thankfully, but she almost wished they did. Around her, she saw the people she was with had sunk low as she did the moment something emerged from the opening.

"No beasts," Tormund said lowly after those wagons disappeared into the forest. "Those things that came out, nothing was pulling 'em." Good, Ygritte wasn't the only one who saw that. "These aren't the crow fuckers, they're something else."

Varik shook his head, his balls gone and replaced with fear. "If it's not crows, it can only be one thing." Voices of agreement followed from equally stupid people.

Tormund looked at the man like he was a fool. "Don't be stupid, Varik, these aren't White Walkers. Those cold fucker like to move, they won't be making castles to live in." She agreed.

He didn't take too kindly to that. "And what exactly do you know about them, aye? We have to turn back back and tell Mance to make our way south before these fuckers come."

"We're not ready yet," Ygritte responded without tearing her eyes away from the black wall, bow nocked and ready in case of anything. "We go now, we might be fucked." She then looked to Tormund. "We can't leave this place unchecked."

Tormund Giantsbane huffed. "I'm telling you lot, these aren't White Walkers."

She shrugged. "All the more reason to find out." He made a light throaty sound, one of agreement he didn't want to admit; the proud bastard. "What do you want to tell Mance? We saw a black wall, shit ourselves, and ran away? He'd want us to find out more."

Another sound of agreement he didn't want to admit. He scratched his beard in thought on what to do, but one of them in their ten-man group didn't need as long to think on it.

"Are you two fucking insane?" Varik seethed. "We need to hurry south, not fuck with this."

"Scared already?" she mocked. His chest puffed up as he bristled. "Like I said, Mance will need to know about this, and he'll ask why we turned tail without knowing more." She gave a smile with an edge to it. "But don't worry, we'll let him know how it's because frostbite took your balls."

Varik reached for the axe on his belt, but she was quicker. A fast punch to his throat had him recoil, the hand that went for his weapon used instead to grip his throat, struggling for air. The men and women around them laughed at his expense, like a little babe trying to remember how to breathe.

"Alright you two, stop fucking about," Tormund said, though there was amusement in his voice still, which only added to the blistering rage of Varik. "Girl's got a point." That ceased any lingering laughter. "We go to Hardhome, we'll just come back here to scout this place." He shrugged. "Might as well do it now while the sun's just setting."

Dark enough to not be easily seen, but bright enough to not need torches. She knew Tormund would be swayed. There was more to it, however. "There's no guards or anything on top of the walls," Ygritte commented, having the Free Folk look at the peek of the twenty-meter wall. "No sentries, just statues."

They looked odd, as there were several of these large statues, with protrusions aimed in random directions. Especially the closest one that caught her eye, the large pipe on it was aimed directly at her group and hasn't moved since like the rest. It was rather eerie the more she thought about it.

"Perhaps the residents believe it's some protective being," one Free Folk said with small chuckle.

Tormund shook his head uncaringly. "Doesn't matter." He turned back to the group, eight of which were listening, while the ninth was glaring angrily at one young redhead. "Me, Ygritte, and Barmir will close the gap and see this new wall." Ygritte and another man nodded. "The rest of you stay here and signal us if you see anything we don't." Varik growled, but the rest nodded. Good enough. "Get ready you two, we'll be leaving now."

Ygritte nodded and set down her pack, only keeping her bow, quiver, and steel knife. The furs she wore, what they all wore, should be more than enough to keep them warm, and keep them hidden with the snow.

She looked to Tormund and Barmir, and saw them both ready just as she was. Tormund and she nodded to one another, he patted the two axes on his belt, and she gestured to the bow on her back.

"Stay behind the tree line and keep a close eye," he told the ones to remain, and looked to her. "You go first, your eyes will do us good here."

"Is that you trying to claim me, Tormund?" she mocked.

He gave an amused chuckle. "Let me tell you about my Sheila sometime, and you'll know why you can't even come close to fuck as good." Right, the bear he 'fucked'.

She only smirked a bit before moving ahead of them, and was only just about able to hear the soft steps in snow from the two behind her. The experience of living in this icy shithole showed on the three of them, sneaking upon this new wall.

A few minutes in, and she could see the black wall a bit clearer, thankful that Tormund chose twilight as a time bright enough to scout it. It didn't look it was made of ice, but rather like a sword or armor, made of steel, but that couldn't be right.

She stopped moving, as did the sound of soft steps in snow, and waited. No bird sound, meaning the group behind them didn't give the signal, but she felt something ominous, one when she felt she was being stalked. The snow around her was soft and even, no bumps or anything that showed anyone hiding beneath it.

She heard the soft crunch of snow as Tormund came close. "What's wrong?" he asked concerned.

"Nothing," she said, frowning. "That's the problem." Was it going to be this easy, even after those wagons came out? The gates couldn't have closed by themselves. She looked to the statues above, and seeing them closer showed they were also made of steel, but didn't move and was 'pointed' still towards the watchers Tormund assigned.

He grunted in understanding, however. "Keep moving, the sooner we finish this, the sooner we get back and drink soured goat's milk." She had to admit, soured goat's milk sounded pretty fucking good now.

Ygritte nodded and continued farther, but still felt that eerie sense of being watched. Thankfully they reached the wall without incident, and just as she thought, it was made of steel.

"What in the Gods' name. . ." Tormund voiced as he felt the metal with his hand, and backed way like it was cursed. He shook his head. "This is no kneeler or White Walker work." His face scowled, his hand anxiously tapping the head of his axe on his belt. "I'll be damned if it was those Thenn fuckers, either."

"I don't like this," Barmir said, his hand on the hilt of his sheathed bronze sword. "Let's get back and tell Mance, I'm done being here." She'd have mocked him for being scared as a babe, but she-

An owl's hoot sounded, it was the signal from the watchers!

Tormund drew both his axes and held ready, Barmir took out his bronze sword and snarled, just as she nocked an arrow and pulled the string. All three looked to different directions, expecting something to come to view, nothing did, but the hooting continued and grew louder as more joined.

Ygritte started hearing a strange sound, like the constant, labored breathing of an old man. As it grew louder, she tried to find where it was coming from. . . and she did.

She looked upwards to the source, just as a boot slammed into her face and stomped her head onto the snow, thankful it was soft enough to cushion her.

"RAH!" Tormund and Barmir shouted as they ran to the attacker with their weapons ready to kill. While disoriented, Ygritte was still on the snow, slowly picking herself up to kill this fucker, she noticed the attacker wasn't holding a blade, nor any kind of weapon for that matter.

While she was on all fours, the attacker nimbly weaved around Tormund's axes, giving two punches to his bearded face and a kick to his gut, but it did nothing besides anger him more and increase his onslaught.

Barmir ran and lifted her by the shoulder as Giantsbane kept the attacker busy. "You go from the right," she told Barmir. "I'll stay on the left and shoot the fucker." he nodded and took position, careful not to be involved when Tormund's angrily swinging.

Now with a better look, the attacker was bizarre, to say the least. Wearing a kind of red clothes, with only small parts holding metal armor like those yellow vambraces. The oddest of it all was the full helm, it held a glass-like face that glowed blue. Maybe Varik was right, these might be White Walkers.

"Would you fuck off already!?" the attacker, a woman, shouted in a vibrating voice. Something on her back spat flame and lifted her fast enough that had her knee cracked on his chin, sending him tumbling back on the snow and out. "Christ, what a nutter."

Ygritte grinned at her clear view with her drawn bow, and let the arrow fly true. It hit her helmet and bounced off, jolting her neck to the side. Ygritte's smirk died and ugly death.

"Ah, fuck!" the creature exclaimed as she shook her head, and looked to the redhead, it must've been angry. "That your best shot, huh? Too bad for you." The attacker turned to face her, just as she drew another arrow, this time aimed at her chest.

Before she could loose it, the attacker's back lit up and jumped, far higher than any human should. She tried to track it, but it gave her pause when it started running on the black wall with fire on its back like a demon.

Ygritte shouted as she loosed another arrow, but it missed and dinged off the wall. She was just about to nock another, but the attacker's back exploded, having her jump farther and faster, slamming her knees on Ygritte's chest and stealing the air from her lungs.

On top of her, the large blue eye moved closer to her face. "Heh, Richter was right, you're all piss poor fighters," she said. Ygritte spat in her blue eye. The attacker drew something, which turned out to be a knife, and tapped her glass face. "Didn't hit my face since I'm wearing my helmet, but you did piss me the fuck off."

Ygritte smirked.

"Rah!" she heard Barmir shout as he swung his sword down at the attacker neck, but he was too slow. She raised her yellow vambrace and stopped the sword with a resounding clang! Instantly she stood up, and the knife in her hand flew, digging deep in Barmir's throat.

She pulled out the knife, watching as Barmir stumbled to hold the bleeding in his neck as best he could, but Ygritte knew it wouldn't. And all the bitch did was wipe her blade with the cloth of her thigh.

Ygritte tried picking herself up, looking at Tormund who's unconscious, at Barmir who's choking on his own blood, unsheathed her knife and lunged at the attacker from behind. Again, too slow.

The speed this woman turned was unnatural, and the heel-kick to Ygritte's chest broke more than a few ribs. "Stay down, love, I only need one of you alive, so don't tempt me," she said as Ygritte groaned and cradled her chest from the pain.

Distant battlecries was heard, and Ygritte saw the group they left make their way to them to help. Their swords, axes, and spears at the ready as they sprint as fast as they could, but they were still too far to even accurately shoot an arrow.

The woman in red sighed. "Bunch of wankers, I swear." She raised her hand and pressed something on her helm. "This is Sloane, send our guests a few rounds with the base's canon. . . Yes, I secured at least two living, potential sources of information, so feel free to open fire. . . Understood." The crazy woman looked to Ygritte. "Cover your ears, it's about to get loud."

She followed her sight towards the Free Folk's coming to help her, and, dare she admit, a little hopeful, but that quickly disappeared.

The sound she heard was hard to describe, it was like thunder, close enough she stopped cradling herself, clenched her eyes shut, and covered her ringing ears. Not a second afterwards the ground beneath her shook her bones, and another, and another, and another. . . then nothing.

Though her bones still felt like they were shaking, Ygritte let go of her hears and opened her eyes to see what happened. The people running to her, they were gone. She couldn't tell where, but she had a good idea on what happened to them.

Metal creaked, and she looked to see the metal 'statue' above moving back in place, its pipe smoking and a slightly glowing red in the darkened sky.

Even with a slight ring, she heard snow crunch as the woman she fought walk over to her until Ygritte was looking up at that glowing, blue face of hers. The woman shook her head, like some fucking parent, and all she could do was seethe.

"I'm sure you have alot to say," the bitch said. "Don't worry, I'll hear all of it later, but for now, love, goodnight."

The last thing Ygritte saw was the bottom of her boot, right before everything went black.

One thing I noticed while writing was how language was very different for each faction. You can almost tell if it was Ash or Eddard talking from the vocabulary used alone. I thought it was very interesting to learn.

Reviews are very much appreciated.