Chapter 5 – A Universe in a Pocket – Part 2
Jon sat trying to comprehend the enormity of what they had been asked to do. Save the world and all those who live in it. How, how could they possibly do this? He had no idea what to think let alone think of where to start. He was just a solider. A simple man who just happened to have a gift for leadership but that was all. Tyrion on the other hand, once he had recovered from the shock of this task, was already putting his formidable intelligence to work to form the beginnings of a plan.
Tyrion poured himself another glass of wine and sat back in his chair. 'To save the world and everyone in it' he thought to himself. 'Where to start, where to start…..' he mused. "Baelish" he said, mostly to himself. "He dies first." The others looked at him. Tyrion hadn't realized that he had spoken loud enough for them to hear him.
"Yes." Jon agreed with a look of hatred and disgust on his face. "Baelish dies first. After all, he IS responsible for Jon Arryn's death and for most of what happened after and if he so much at glances sideways at Sansa, I'll kill him then and there and take whatever punishment comes after. He will NOT get near her again!" he stated with a look of grim resolve now taking place of the hate.
"Oh yes" Tyrion agreed darkly. "I have a few ideas about his demise that I will take great pleasure in executing as soon as possible on our dear Lord Whoremonger Little Finger."
Death sat there listening to the dark thoughts of these two men. Neither were the types to hate unless pushed to it but the depths of their hatred for Lord Baelish right now was almost unholy. Their reactions when they found out about who Baelish was actually working for….a chill suddenly ran down his spine and he was surprised to find himself just a little bit afraid.
"Yes, well about Lord Baelish….." Death started to speak but trailed off as both Jon and Tyrion pinned him with hard looks.
"If you're about say that we can't kill him, I swear by all I love and hold dear, I WILL find a way to kill you and I don't care that you're Death either, I will find a way" Tyrion threatened in a hard voice. "That man is the cause of untold suffering from high Lords to the lowborn. THAT man is poison who kills slowly and sweetly but kills none the less." He spat.
Death picked up his glass and swallowed a healthy mouthful of wine. He looked at R'hllor for help to explain the situation. "Oh no Brother you started this, YOU get to finish it." R'hllor laughed as he finished speaking. "This is just so VERY entertaining." He started laughing harder.
Meanwhile neither Tyrion nor Jon had stopped looking at Death, waiting for an answer. Death sighed and put his glass on the table. "You can kill him. Do not stress yourselves about that. I agree he must die but it's complicated."
He folded his hands together on the table and continued. "You see, just before I summoned you, we found out that Petyr Baelish was working for someone and not strictly for his own gain as all assumed."
"Who?" was all Tyrion said.
"The Great Other. He is, was, an agent of the Great Other." Death replied in a voice devoid of emotion.
"How long?" Tyrion asked again.
"Since shortly after Brandon Stark almost killed him when Petyr challenged him over Lady Catelyn." Jon and Tyrion just sat there and stared at Death.
"I'm sorry, how did that happen?" Jon asked in a faint voice "As far as we know, as anybody knows, the first time Petyr Baelish stepped foot in the north was when he sold Sansa to the Bolton's." He said. "And Bran confirmed that the spells on the Great Other's prison didn't start to unravel until my Uncle was killed and Robb left Winterfell."
When Bran had return from beyond the wall with only Meera Reed, Jon had been both happy and sad. Happy that Bran had returned alive and even healthier then he was he went north if that was possible but also sad to know that his "little brother" had suffered as much hardship and loss and the rest of his siblings but the stories he told were nothing short of amazing.
One of the first things that Bran had told him and Sansa was Jon's true parentage and something even more amazing, the real reason why Winterfell was build where it was. Winterfell was the prison in which The Great Other was locked away. Built over hot springs, linked to Stark blood, it was the perfect place to imprison a being made of nothing but cold and dark. The Night King and what was left of his armies were driven deep into the Lands of Always Winter and the Wall constructed to keep them out of the south and away from their master. The house words "Winter is Coming" were a reminder that when true winter comes, so does the Long Night and the Night King.
"We're not sure how it happened exactly, as my Brother said, we only discovered this just shortly before you were brought to us and then we were attacked. We've had no time to investigate this." R'hllor started to say when Tyrion spoke, "it doesn't matter. What's done is done. We need to concentrate on what must be done, so let's get down to business shall we? My Lord Death, you said there would be rules to abide by when we go back?" Death looked at Tyrion in approval.
"Yes indeed. There are things that must come to pass if all are to survive the Long Night and things what must be done in order to achieve this." Death replied. Jon took a deep breath and let it out slowly. Too many revelations and shocks in such a short space of time had Jon scrambling to keep up. "Very well. What must be done?" He asked. The Gods themselves had asked them for their help and Jon felt honour bound to help them.
"Firstly, Eddard Stark must live. He must be in the North when the time comes for war with the Night Kings forces. Second, I'm so sorry Jon, but Brandon Stark MUST go North of the Wall. It is his destiny to become the Three Eyed Raven and he must learn how to control the powers he will wield. Third, Daenerys Targaryen's Song cannot be interfered with. This means, you cannot approach her before you would have in the last timeline Tyrion. She has her own song to sing for She is Bran the Builder to you Azor Ahai, My Prince. Fourth, Robert Arryn will die. Not must die, WILL die. It is the sign that the war against the Night King has begun. Last but certainly not least and this one will please the both of you, Petyr Baelish must die….eventually" Death said as he laid out the rules. "Everything else though….feel free to try and change it for the better. Do what you must but defend the world and all those who will die if you fail."
"Oh so no pressure then" Tyrion snarked at the room in general, although to be honest, he was a relived. The list of rules wasn't as bad as he thought it was going to be. Still, it was a formidable task waiting for them. Unfortunately saving Lord Stark was going to be hard task due to his damn honour but between Jon and himself, they should be able to manage it.
Suddenly, Tyrion honed in on the wording of the last task. "Baelish must die….eventually? Please explain why I cannot kill the traitorous lying bastard first?' He enquired of Death.
"Better the devil you know." Death said with a grin.
Tyrion frowned "I'm not sure I completely understand what you mean by that." He confessed with a slight look of embarrassment on his face. Jon smiled slightly, "I think I do. If I understand correctly, you mean to say that it's better to keep a known enemy alive for a time then kill him off and have him replaced by an unknown enemy." Jon said. "Essentially, yes" Death replied in a pleased tone.
"It makes sense," Jon said turning to Tyrion. "We already know what Baelish has planned and if we kill him, then someone else will step into his place. Someone who we don't know about or have any idea about their agenda. As you'll most likely be in the South for most of the time, you'll be able to counter most of what he plans then once he's served his purpose and when we no longer have any use for him, and then we kill him."
Tyrion nodded in approval. "Your right. Best keep a close eye on him and counter his schemes but you know" he continued, "We're not going to be able to pull this off on our own. We're going to need help. Not a lot of help, but the right kind of help. I think we all agree, that the fewer people who know our little secret the better, yes?" The others could only nod in agreement.
"You should come to Winterfell sooner Tyrion because we are going to have to bring Lord Stark into this and it's going to take both of us to convince him we're not crazy and get him to go along with any plans we make, especially plans that have to do with the North and the Wall. He is the key to uniting the North against the White Walkers and the wrights….and I need to be at the Wall." Jon said not so enthused by the prospect of being trapped at Castle Black again. He died. His watch had ended.
"You're right. I must come to Winterfell sooner. Shouldn't be a problem, depending on what Time we get sent back to. Personally, I'm thinking maybe one to one and a half years before Jon Arryn dies."
"Why that timeframe" R'hllor asked in curiosity. "Because, it will give me time travel to Winterfell and talk Lord Honourable around." Tyrion answered in a slightly insulting tone. "You're not going to take insult on behalf of your Uncle?" R'hllor asked with a sly smile on his face, trying to provoke a response.
Jon shook his head. "No," he said with a sigh, "I've had a lot of time to think on things over the years and I must agree with Tyrion. My Uncle's honour is a liability especially in Kings Landing. Basically, he got himself killed because his damn honour wouldn't let him keep silent about the truth of Cerci's children. She's a mother as well as the queen; he should have realized she would do anything to protect her children. Best thing he could have done was to take the Regency for a time to avoid going to war. Robb would have taken the Northern host back home and more than likely, given up being King in the North and gone back to being Lord of Winterfell and Warden of the North on his father's orders. "He reasoned.
Jon didn't like politics but over the years he had no choice but to get involved with it. Once he'd been reunited with Sansa, she'd despaired at his lack skill in this area and began to teach him the art of politics and how to get one's own way. He learned fast. Sansa was ruthless. She scared him.
Death spoke "Very good. You have at least a basic plan in place and I shall send you back soon. But, thanks to the Night Kings attack, the Gods are in no condition to perform the spell and while I can send you back; my way is different to theirs. If they had of preformed the spell, those who would of preformed it, which would have been all of us, we would also retain our memories of this future which could have been helpful to your task but now as they are unable do this it's going to have to be my way." Death frowned
"I could go with them….." R'hllor offered. "You said it yourself, they may need a God to help them out at some point and if I remember….."
Death rolled his eyes and sighed. "Do you not remember our Brother telling you off about direct inference in the mortal plane? How it could start the war sooner and possible blow up the world?" he said with as much sarcasm as he could muster.
"Yes I do but I still want to help them. I can at least try to guide them through the flames, like my followers." He offered, almost begging to be able to help.
"No. No way. No fire visions. They can be all too easily misunderstood and corrupted or have you forgotten Shireen Baratheon already?" Tyrion said, trying to hold onto his temper. It was a sore spot for him. He despised people who abused children or allowed children to be abused in any way. He took a deep breath and tried to calm down, just as a thought occurred to him.
"Hang on a moment, what do you mean by you cannot directly interfere in the mortal plane. You send visions to your followers of things you want them to do. That's direct interference is it not? Purposely imposing your will through the flames? "
"Yes and no" He replied. "Yes I tell my followers what I want them to do through the flames but Free Will gives me a loophole to exploit. They can choose to act upon the visions or not. Also, I cannot physically interact on the mortal plane without disturbing the balance of the world."
"Physically interact?" Tyrion repeated "so you cannot stand on the mortal world without upsetting the balance of the world yes?" He asked.
R'hllor nodded. "None of us can," he said "except Him" he continued, while pointing at Death. "And how do you do that?" Tyrion asked Death
"Easy" he replied. "I just use a non-corporal form. It doesn't upset the balance and it also doesn't offend the other God's sensibilities." Death laughed. "Besides, even in my physical form, I wouldn't upset the balance of the world. After all, I'm PART of the balance of the world." He added.
R'hllor stared daggers at him. "You know, sometimes I really hate you Brother" he said without much heat. "Why didn't I think of that?" he asked himself aloud
"Well I for one am glad you didn't. You're a Chaos God, who knows what Chaos you would have definitely gone out and caused." Death shuddered at the thought.
Tyrion and Jon just sat there forgotten by the two Gods. "Perhaps we should concentrate on starting our tasks?" Jon said. The two gods shook themselves and got up from the table. "Yes we shall start."
"Now" Death said "you must listen and follow my instructions closely. Once I return us to our world, I will open a portal, set for one and an half years prior to the start of the war, Jon Arryns death. Remember, what I said earlier, Time will not have passed when we get back. This means that R'hllor's wall of light is still in place. I want you through that portal before it comes down and they see you. R'hllor, you may go to. Once you enter the portal, your souls will merger with your younger bodies and once that happens, Time will reset and your chance to save the world will begin. Do you all understand?" They nodded. "Good, be ready" he said.
"Brother, before we begin, how long will your wall hold?" He asked "A few minutes" R'hllor replied 'it'll be tight timing but I can manage' Death thought to himself as he slipped back into his true form. "He we go…. "Iterum incipit tempus" he chanted in that strange language again. Just as he said the last word, the world snapped back into place around them.
It was as Death said, no time as passed everything exactly as it was when they'd "left". Death turned to R'hllor, "Sorry Brother, but this is going to hurt" he said as he used his scythe to behead his Brother.
Ignoring the looks of shock on Jon and Tyrion's face, he swiftly knelt next to his brother's corpse and placed a hand on his chest. His hand glowed white; he pulled it away from his brother body and flicked his wrist. The glow left his hand and formed a short distance away into R'hllor. "Bloody, buggering, fuck. That HURT!" The soul of R'hllor complained. Death didn't even spare him a glance.
Death pointed his scythe off to one side and opened a shimmering portal of silver and white. He looked at the three souls. "Go now and remember, Don't Panic" he said with a smirk as he practically threw them through the portal. 'Don't Panic?' he laughed to himself and he and the world before him started to fade away 'I have got to stop reading Douglas Addams' he mused and it all went black.
Next chapter, we're finally back in Westeros that Was