"Is that the best you can do, little man?" Elijah called mockingly. "You'd be dead thrice over at that speed. Put some effort into it, won't you?"
As much as Benjen would've liked to retort, he couldn't; his lungs were on fire and his sides felt like they'd been stabbed with twin daggers. His words just came out like a wheeze of an expiring man. Elijah clicked his tongue.
"You thought you were so special, didn't you, because the master-at-arms made you swing a sword," said Elijah. "Yet here you are, sullying your pride and dignity by stumbling around in the mud because as it turns out, you neglected to train your body and will."
Benjen had never hated Elijah more than in that moment. He felt like falling to his knees and throwing up in the mud, but imagining Elijah's expression of exaggerated disappointment spurred him on. He almost crawled past the designated finish line — the gates leading out of the godswood and into Winterfell proper. James clapped, and Benjen looked up; there seemed to be no mocking in his congratulations.
"Well done," Elijah said, and Benjen felt his heart lift despite himself. "You've convinced me. Now comes the best part: you'll wake up before dawn like you did today and repeat this process over and over."
Benjen groaned, and Elijah snorted.
"Now up you get. Finish off your stretches, then we'll meditate."
Benjen went through his stretches. Elijah couldn't hear all of his thoughts, Benjen had found, or perhaps Elijah was simply a better pretender than Benjen had thought. This was a good thing, because… well, Elijah was capable of taking over his body, if he wanted to. The first time they'd discovered this was when Benjen, in his exhaustion, had slipped on the stairs and nearly tumbled all the way down the tower… until Elijah had jerked himself back into place, likely out of reflex more than anything else. The following days had been an awkward experience.
Elijah steadfastly avoided controlling Benjen's body since, for which Benjen was grateful, but there was that doubt in the back of his mind that wondered if it was truly wise to humor him for so long. It had been a month since he'd spoken to that three-eyed crow, and he continually wondered if he should go back. If he did, though, Elijah would never talk to him again, even if the crow failed to remove him from his mind. Why Benjen just didn't visit the damned Heart Tree was a mystery to even himself. Wasn't it common sense to trust one's gods over a strange wraith in his head?
Benjen finished off his stretches and dragged his feet towards the hot springs, one of the smaller, less-frequented ones. There was nobody there so early, for which he was grateful, and he quietly stripped despite the chill of the morning on his skin and sunk into the water. It warmed him almost instantly, and he sighed in relief.
He closed his eyes, and focused on his breathing. It was a slight struggle after all the abuse his lungs had been put through, and the pressure of the water on his body, but it helped him focus. The world faded away around him, leaving only the blank darkness of his mind and the rhythmical inhales and exhales.
"Good," said Elijah softly. His voice echoed from all around him. "I think we're ready to progress into something new."
"We are?" Benjen said, trying to still his flash of excitement.
"Something more subtle," Elijah said. "You might not find it as exciting or interesting, but it will help you greatly. I know this. It's called Occlumency."
Benjen continued to focus on his breathing. Elijah would get annoyed if he didn't.
"Occlumency and Legilimency are the shield and sword of your mind," Elijah said, his voice sounding like a whisper on the breeze. "To learn Occlumency is to fend off invaders, those who seek to pry your secrets from your mind, to throw off those who seek to shackle your body. Do you remember the dream at the Heart Tree?"
"Yes," said Benjen.
"You couldn't fly, you couldn't run. Even if you tried, you couldn't have banished that crow back to wherever it came from. It was only because of me that you didn't get hurt. But once you learn this, in your dreams you will become mighty. Your mind will become a shield made of adamant, impregnable and unbreakable. And when you learn Legilimency after that, you will be able to tread in the world of dreams, to make your massive footfalls heard, and send lesser beings scattering in fear."
Elijah had a flair for dramatics sometimes, but Benjen had to admit, it was convincing.
"Let's begin. In the darkness of your mind, picture a flame. A single flame will do, the like you will find atop a candle fluttering in your father's solar. Into this flame, feed your emotions, your thoughts… watch it flicker and briefly grow as it consumes these thoughts. Push anything you can feel, you can think, into the flame; leave nothing but a void behind."
When Benjen finally opened his eyes again, his skin was wrinkly all over, and the sun was noticeably higher in the sky. He thought he'd done pretty well, but Elijah only said he had a long way to go. He got out, dried himself with a clean towel he'd left here for this purpose, and went back inside. He entered the dining hall, finding his father, sister, and brother already there and halfway through their meal.
"Good morning, Father," Benjen said. "And Brandon."
"Good morning, Benjen," said Father.
"Morning, Ben," said Brandon.
"What about me," Lyanna muttered, unable to raise her voice in the presence of their father.
"I hope you have a terrible morning, Lyanna."
Lyanna choked on her drink while Father's lips twitched downward in disapproval. He didn't say anything, though, so Benjen assumed he wasn't going to be in trouble. He sat between Brandon and Lyanna, filled his goblet with milk, and picked out some slices of bread and lathered them with butter. Then he picked out several fried eggs and slices of bacon, and sandwiched them between his slices of bread.
(Sandwich. What a great idea that Elijah had introduced him to.)
He idly noted that Brandon had already started picking up on it, although he had swapped out the egg for a double ration of bacon. Bran was a strange person, at least in Ben's eyes. He was already a man grown, looking remarkably like Father, except perhaps slightly taller. Brandon noticed Benjen watching and winked; Benjen smiled back.
Elijah appeared on Father's side and stared at the food forlornly, but said nothing.
"I see you've been exercising," Father said idly. Eyeing Benjen and Brandon's breakfast, he stuck three sausages in between two slices of bread. "What brought on this development, Benjen?"
Brandon and Lyanna both glanced at him; the latter had already seen him at it, being an early riser, but Brandon never woke before dawn. Benjen chewed, and swallowed, and spoke.
"I was told that I was a man," said Benjen. "That I am not a bear, or a lion, or even a direwolf. I am a man, who conquered all three, a hardened killer that cast them down one by one until only I remained standing. That I am a Man, a conqueror that dominated bears and direwolves and Children of the Forest. And that I'd better start acting like one."
Lyanna stared at him, her mouth agape, while Brandon raised an eyebrow. Father snorted, amused.
"Very motivational," he said dryly. "You've inspired me to start exercising more, that's for sure."
"I suppose I have that effect on people," Elijah said, examining Father's ornately carved chair.
Bran reached out and poked Benjen's arm. "Ow," Benjen said.
"You're still a twig," said Bran, the prick.
"It's only been a month."
"I think you've already started to grow, son," said Father, lacing his fingers under his chin. "You appear taller. Straighter. More proud."
Benjen felt a hesitant smile come onto his face at that. Lyanna pouting off to the side was just a bonus.
"Thank you, Father."
"Might be best if you joined in as well, Brandon," Father said, going back to his breakfast. "Perhaps it's time to find yourself another hobby than whoring."
Brandon snorted. "I already train with the guards."
"And it's clearly not exhausting you enough to stop you from going to that establishment," Rickard growled, a hint of steel in his voice, and Brandon backed down, although not entirely silently. "I've no complaints about you visiting whores, son. Better that than to find some pox-ridden farmhand. But your lust nearly borders on obsession."
"I bet I could run a mile faster than you," Benjen said, and Brandon scoffed.
"Please. Your legs are half the length of mine."
"Yeah, but I can run a mile. You'll collapse halfway through."
Father snorted into his sandwich as Brandon gave Benjen a glare which effect was undercut by the gleam of fondness in his eyes.
Finishing breakfast, he and Lyanna visited Maester Walys again for their lessons; Benjen fought with Brandon, read a book on Sothoryos, and the sun was going down before he even knew it. Elijah was silent for most of the day, content to sink into his own thoughts. It was only until Benjen had climbed back into bed for the night that he addressed Elijah.
"You don't talk much about yourself," said Benjen, staring at the ceiling.
"Hmm?" Elijah didn't appear in his room, as usual, but remained a disembodied voice. "I suppose not."
"You said you studied magic at a school, right? What was it like?"
Elijah was silent for a moment, before he spoke. "Maybe it'd be best if I just showed you."
"You can do that?"
"Only because we're stuck in the same headspace," he said. "Close your eyes, won't you?"
Benjen did so, and for a moment there was only darkness; slowly, though lights appeared in his mind, like raindrops falling upon the surface of the water, creating ripples of color. Stars appeared in his vision and he realized he was looking at the night sky.
He looked down, to find himself wearing flowing robes, sitting in a small boat that skimmed silently across a still surface of water without oars or a sail. Beside him was a girl with pale hair and twins with fire-red hair, and all of them were looking up in awe.
Benjen followed their gaze, and witnessed a massive castle standing atop a cliff. Tall towers and spires contrasted against the long, wide corridors, millions of candles twinkling like fireflies in the height of summer.
"Whoa," Benjen murmured, as the scene before him blurred, until he was walking alone — no, not alone, with a blonde girl by his side — through the inside of the castle. Suits of armor lined the walls, standing at attention; he passed by surprisingly detailed paintings, the occupants of which he was pretty sure snored; he saw an honest-to-gods ghost pass through the wall, cross the corridor in front of them, and disappear into the next wall over.
"Impressive, isn't it?" Elijah said, a hint of longing in his voice. "It was the place that felt most like home to me."
"Winterfell's bigger," Benjen said, unable to resist. Elijah still didn't appear, but Benjen could hear his laughter.
"Maybe on the outside," said James. "On the inside? Hogwarts is much bigger."
"That doesn't make any sense."
"Not yet, it doesn't."
Benjen hummed. "Well, 'Winterfell' sounds a lot more impressive than 'Hogwarts.'"
"You've a point there," said Elijah, amused. "But it's time for you to sleep."
"You've barely shown me anything," Benjen complained, even as his vision went dark.
"There's more to come," Elijah said, his voice falling away. "Go to sleep, Benjen."
Benjen didn't realize it at the time, but he had already fallen asleep the moment he'd closed his eyes.