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Beyond the Wall:
Call him trusting, but Harry felt that this Benjen Stark was telling the truth. He offered to join the man on his ranging, along with the Seven, with the promise in return for aid getting through the Wall and to Winterfell. Benjen explained that he was out beyond the Wall looking for where Will had left Gared and Ser Royce's bodies near the wildling camp. As they trekked the miles to the small camp, the First Ranger explained the workings of the Night's Watch, and the basic geography and politics of Westeros. As it turned out, the Long Night was an ancient legend of a never-ending winter (for some reason their summers and winters did not have the same rough timetabling as their Earth's) that allowed the White Walkers to storm across Westeros once more. The White Walkers were rumoured to be able to revive the dead into wights, a truly terrifying concept. This world was apparently in danger of an ice-zombie apocalypse.
It took the rest of the day to make their way to a small bluff that hid the camp behind a dense copse of pine trees in a dry riverbed. Benjen drew up short.
"There should be bodies strewn all around here. Will said that they were all dead before he got here. Neither Ser Royce nor Gared are here either. Either Will just ran off- which is the most unlikely of situations- or someone's moved the bodies, which is worrying. Or…" Benjen looked worried for a second, as if he was seriously considering the bodies moved themselves. For the last few miles, there had been no sound from birds, wolves or wind alike. Ron, Harry and Hermione all recognised the lack of sound as the presence of a predator too dangerous to stay around from their dealings with Grawp in the last year.
Before Benjen could do more than dismount to check for tracks, white blurs emerged from the trees on either side of the group. Immediately, the First Ranger roared, "It's Ser Royce and Gared! The Others have them now!" before whirling his sword from its scabbard on his horse's flank and blocking a stroke from the man in heavy armour and a ripped cloak. The other wight bore a longsword typical of the late medieval era but little in the way of armour, and seemed to be missing its head. Before it could take more than a step towards the Ranger's back, two arrows sprouted from its chest and a spear was thrust through its back. The frozen cadaver began to smoke and fall apart before their eyes.
The first wight, what must have been Ser Royce, fought with the strength of ten men, battering aside Benjen's blade with no finesse, and made for a killing blow. Benjen, however, used the sword's momentum to swing about and take off the man's head. Ser Royce, however, didn't seem to care that much, and took a swing at his opponent. Before the blade took off his arm at the elbow, Luna's curved blade caught it, and twisted it from the wight's grip.
"Wait! We need to take him back, or people will never believe us! Help me tie him up!" Benjen started unravelling some rope from his saddle, before he saw the figure in blue, Lady Igraine, point a small stick at the struggling headless man being held by Lord Gawain and Lord Lancelot. A brief flash of light later, and the struggling corpse froze rigid, hands and legs straight as if strapped to a post. Neville flinched away slightly from the falling man.
"What was that? Was that… magic?!" The ranger looked startled.
"Yes, we use magic. It makes some things easier. I hope that this isn't an issue, my lord?" Hermione asked him.
"Magic hasn't been seen in these lands for over a hundred and fifty years! It died off with the dragons!" The mere thought that magic was real- or at least returning- was absurd. But the evidence was right before his eyes. "If anyone in Castle Black knows how you restrained Ser Royce, they will not believe that the White Walkers are back. They will think that you created him. Once we get within sight of the Wall, we will need to change over to rope. Give me his head, I have a sack. And I would appreciate honesty, my fellows. Such things could lead to much trouble."
The Seven sat back and cursed. They should have realised that magic wasn't common here- in what appeared to be an analogue to medieval England, many would be superstitious or hateful towards magic. They didn't need eight stakes set up at the next village.
The First Ranger walked over to the now-steaming puddle that used to be one of his best men. "Now, tell me. By the Old Gods, how did you kill Gared for good?"
"Well, we shot him, and Lady Igraine here stabbed him. Not much else to tell, really. Except he was missing his head to begin with." Fred and George chimed in. Stark pulled one of the arrows out of the puddle and inspected it.
"This is Valyrian steel! How in the blazes did you get arrows made of Valyrian steel? Hand me your spear!" Turning to Hermione, he held his hand out expectantly. Slowly, as if parting with an ancient tome, she slowly handed him her spear. Turning it over in his hand, he watched the light play out over the blade. Deep within, small blue waves seemed to peak and trough, like the rough ocean of the Shivering Sea.
"Are all of your armaments of the same metal?" He said, peering closely at their armour. Yes, there it was, the same deep colours that at first looked like lacquer to him, he now saw as the magnificent, magical colours of Valyrian steel. There was more of the rare metal in front of him than in the rest of Westeros, perhaps Essos as well. "This bears great thought. This metal is rarer than the largest of diamonds, and worth a hundred times more. It is forged with magic and dragonfire, no wonder it can slay the undead. Come, we must bring news to the Lord Commander."
Without even waiting for their agreement, the troubled First Ranger mounted his horse and began to retrace his tracks to the Wall.
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As they walked back towards Castle Black, Hermione strode easily beside Benjen, mounted as he was.
"I believe that some explanation might be needed, my lord. My friends and I did not arrive in this land by choice. In our world, we were students at a school for magic that catered to only those with the talent. This formed a hidden society that was necessary due to witch hunts several hundred years ago. For some reason our magic is ridiculously powerful here, and we had decided not to use it in general until we had figured this out. You, uh, probably saw the log and heard the fire, seeing as you appeared so shortly afterwards. Will magic be a problem here, if we use it openly?" Hermione asked.
"Magic will not cause you to be burned, not really. Many woodswitches live in towns, providing potions and poultices to the sick. The Red Priests, are, of course, rumoured to use magic, but they call them gifts from their god R'hllor, the Lord of Light. It is merely… unbecoming of knights such as yourselves to use such tools when a sword will do. You could not enter tourneys if you were known to be such, as cheating would be claimed whether you had or not. Best to hide it, or use it sparingly if you can. We in the North especially put great stock in working hard for what you get, and magic would stop this." Stark said.
"Very well, we shall be careful with our use, more than we would previously. On a related matter, we would rather our secrets remain our own. Is there any way to parley directly with your Lord Commander without bandying about with anyone else?"
Benjen laughed. "The Lord Commander will want to see you immediately, no doubt. Nobody has ever wanted or needed to go beyond the Wall that wasn't in the Night's Watch. He will be interested in meeting you, and all within the Castle will be watching you. Unless your magic has a way of hiding you from sight, then I fear you will be the talk of the North within days!"
Fred and George perked up at this. "We know a spell that can do that! Well, two spells. A silencing charm, and a disillusionment charm; maybe a scent-masking charm if you want to get clever will hide us from everyone. But we can't open doors without people wondering what's going on. We'll need help…"
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Castle Black:
Lord Commander Mormont looked up as he heard the short blast on the horn from atop the wall. The First Ranger was returning. Standing slowly, he made his way out onto the raised walkway and down to the gate. As the gate was lifted, the men standing in the courtyard all murmured at the sight of the First Ranger dragging the corpse of what could only be Ser Royce by a rope underneath his arms- and his head was missing! The man kicked and bucked and tried in vain to fight his way free, but the ropes were so tight as to gnaw at his icy flesh.
"Stay back, brothers! This is not Ser Waymar! He is taken by some icy contagion the likes of which I have not seen before! Here I have his head, which still tries to bite my fingers with every move!" At this, he withdrew the severed head, which did indeed try its very best to snap at the offending digits. "My Lord Commander, I must speak with you alone, at once. We men of the North have much to talk about."
"Aye, that we do, First Ranger. Take Ser Royce to the brig and we'll see to him soon." Benjen could see the footsteps in the muddy courtyard that led up the stairs to the Lord Commander's quarters. He'd have to let them in after the stewards had been dismissed, or their arrival would reach the Spider within days.
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A/N: So. Another chapter, and only a scarce few steps further on their journey. I'm still getting to grips with including titles and suchlike, especially with Benjen as his only title is First Ranger. If anyone knows anything about this, please share. Also, go watch Swords, Musket & Machine guns on BBC iPlayer, it teaches a lot about medieval weaponry (1st episode). Ciao!