"If it does not offend you, Lady Mormont, I would like to know how it is that you managed to drive out the Wildlings from Bear Island?" Lady Meera Stark, the hottest milf - maybe cougar – I've ever seen in my whole life, thus far, asked. And, goddamn, the way she spoke was just... woah mama. So, in conclusion, my dick hard. "When you sent the Raven to House Stark, we assumed the worst. But, it seems that, overall, you've maintained control over Bear Island, despite the loss of... your household."
But, oh boy; that wasn't an easy question to answer, was it? Because, technically, Lysa Mormont didn't really do much as I did pretty much all the heavy lifting. That wasn't to discredit her spirit, of course, seeing as – canonically – Lysa Mormont definitely won against the Wildlings somehow, since House Mormont still existed in canon, even if their stone castle was gone by the AGOT started or some other unrelated shit like that. So, the hard part, I figured, had to come from admitting to the fact that, over the last few weeks, pretty much the entirety of Bear Island has been rather dependent on yours truly, the most handsome necromancer Planetos has ever seen. Or, maybe not. Lysa Mormont didn't strike me as a particularly prideful sort, like Cersei or Tywing or... literally any other character from the books. And so she wouldn't really lie about making use of a sorcerer for her own gain, wouldn't she?
No problem.
They'd been talking for almost two hours now, pouring over contracts and other fine details as to the management and restoration of Bear Island, all of which was given free of charge by House Stark, apparently, in an act of magnanimity towards a subject in need. Bullshit. This was definitely a political maneuver, either meant to curry favor or to force Lysa into an arrangement of some kind. The Starks weren't known for being honorable before Ned Stark came along in AGOT. They weren't assholes or bastards, either, but I wouldn't really consider them to be honorable.
The Stark Delegation settled themselves on the opposite end of the negotiating table, with Meera Stark herself representing their interests and intentions. There were probably close to a hundred warriors on their side, fully armed and filthy. On our end... well... we didn't have a lot of warriors, aside from Lysa's new Household Guard and myself and Halga. Like I said, not a lot. But, of course, with my bullshit magic, the Stark warriors stood no fucking chance in a fight.
Not that it would ever come to that, given the breaking of bread and salt ceremony thing that granted them guest rights. And, if nothing else, guest rights were sacred across Westeros. And, in Lysa Mormont's halls, no blood would be spilled.
Our meeting, if it could be called that, was held in the dining hall, the only place large enough to actually house all the Stark Warriors as the Lord's hall was too narrow and, quite frankly, was badly in need of refurnishing. Not that Lysa spent a lot of time there, to be honest. When she wasn't walking about with her people, trying to figure out what problems ailed them and how best to deal with said problems, she was in her study... doing... something... not sure what exactly, but something that was probably important.
Whatever the case, aid was given and aid was accepted. Workers and craftsmen would work on rebuilding and continuing the work that was already done by my undead – very impressive work, I might add – in laying the foundations of the city that was to rise around Mormont Keep. Lysa, as far as I recall, still hadn't decided on a name for her new city. No rush. It wasn't even close to being finished, anyway, and, honestly, even I'd struggle to actually refer to it as a city, given its rather puny size. But, compared to the fishing villages and hamlets that dotted the island, then it was, I suppose, large and spacious.
Repairs would be made to the Mormont Keep itself as well, new defenses would be erected and all that jazz. And hundreds of sacks of dried grains and other foodstuffs that I didn't care to know about were to be distributed to the populace. Meera Stark even suggested the cultivation of a great deal of forest to be turned into farmland, something that House Mormont wasn't capable of before, but was now simply by the aid that was given to them.
All in all, the Starks really weren't kidding around with the help that they brought. So, I really had to wonder just what the fuck they were going to ask for, in exchange for all of this, because nothing in this world was ever free.
All the help also meant that Lysa Mormont was unlikely to lie to them to protect me and, honestly, it wasn't like I told her to keep my magic a secret. Sooner or later, the handsome Necromancer guy with an army of the dead was going to be known to the wider world. Oh, and I also had a dragon – can't forget about that. Luckily for everyone here, Nightfury was still asleep. How I knew that? No idea, actually. The more time I spent with the little guy, the more I came to realize that a weird connection was forming between us, like a bond. It wasn't anything like remote viewing, but it did allow us to share our thoughts with each other, kind of like a psychic connection, allowing me to know exactly how my nightmare city-killing dragon was feeling at all times and also a general feeling as to his general location.
At the moment, Nightfury wasn't feeling anything in particular – something close to contentment, perhaps? Whatever the case, the city-killing dragon was asleep and everyone was better off for it, because having to deal with the fallout of being a necromancer was bad enough. I did not yet want to deal with the consequences of being outed as a dragon rider. But, hey, if one of those consequences involved Meera Stark sleeping with me, then goddamn - I'm in.
Still, I breathed in and prepared for the inevitable.
"To tell you the truth, Lady Stark," Lysa began. Her voice cracked. She'd been here for a while and was likely exhausted from all of this. "I... hardly did anything of value. The truth is that the Wildlings were driven back by one man, one who wielded magic and commanded the dead to do his bidding, a Sorcerer of... unimaginable power... and the kindest heart I've ever known."
Oh, good. At the very least, she didn't mention Nightfury.
Doubtful murmurs spread across the Stark Delegation. Meera Stark herself raised a brow as she leaned back and crossed her arms over her chest. Magic, I recalled, was a known factor in Planetos, but only barely. ASOIAF was what fantasy fans referred to as Low Fantasy; magic was a real force and everyone knew about it, but you'd never find anyone flinging fireballs and blowing up entire armies by themselves, like in High Fantasy settings. As far as the people of Westeros were concerned, magic existed, but not the extent where it could threaten armies and certainly not to the extent that it could reanimate the dead and command them to fight. So, I very much understood the doubt in their eyes, the skepticism.
No doubt, Meera Stark probably thought Lysa Mormont had gone fucking mental.
"I..." Meera Stark's eyes narrowed and her brows furrowed. I saw it, in her look, that she was about to utter a very offensive remark, but stopped herself at the last moment. She was used to talking like that, I figured, like a freaking hooligan. Woah mama. Still, she breathed in and raised a hand to shush her warriors. "Is this... sorcerer still on Bear Island, Lady Mormont? If so, I would very much like to meet him and... verify his magic for myself. As you may know, my lady, this land is rife with mummers who seek to take advantage of those who... those who cannot see through their ruse."
I'm quite sure that Meera didn't mean that as an insult, but I wouldn't be shocked if Lysa construed it as one, anyway.
"Lord Jason Lee saved the entirety of Bear Island by himself, it is no-"
Before shit escalated, however, I decided it was time to steal the fucking show. I stood up, summoning the Great Boner in my grasp and willing forth embers of Necrotic Energies to start encircling my form, creating a shroud-like aura that looked rad as fuck. This way, I looked cool as shit, but also didn't waste any of the Necrotic Energies that I'd saved up from all the dead Wildlings. I honestly didn't have a lot left. But, the drip cannot be stopped.
A blue-green haze surrounded me and the very air around us shifted and grew colder. Fuck yeah. I saw my reflection on one of the silver goblets and my eyes were freaking glowing with Necrotic Energy. In that moment, I felt like the coolest goddamn piece of shit in the entire world. The eyes, I mused, really added that magical touch to really make me look like I was the real deal and, I suppose, as far as these people were concerned, I fucking was.
The Stark Delegates grew pale and afraid at the sight of me, the eyes of the seasoned warriors widened and many of them drew their swords – or, at least, they tried to, but Lady Meera Stark herself stood up and raised her hand to them, her black hair fluttering all over the place as my Necrotic Cloak caused the very air around me to start howling – didn't expect that shit, but it certainly added to the drip. She put up a brave front, I noted, but I knew fear when I saw it. And I saw it in her eyes and in her body language. Her skin was pale and her breathing hoarse. She was fucking terrified. But, she held her ground anyway. True courage, my father always used to tell me, was about facing one's fears and overcoming them; it didn't matter how scared shitless you actually were, as long as you stood your ground and held firm.
The edges of my robes fluttered around me as I stepped forward and walked towards Lady Meera Stark. And then, with a snap of my fingers, the Necrotic Energies retreated into my body and all the fancy light shows and cool shit disappeared.
"Greetings," I said, breaking the silence. I figured it was the best time to speak, seeing as I had full control over the room. Sure, even Lysa Mormont looked like she was just a little bit intimidated by me, but not nearly as much as the Stark Delegates. "I am Jason Lee, Sorcerer Supreme."
I slammed the Mighty Boner against the floor, producing a thunderous booming sound that I honestly had not intended – not even sure how it happened. A surprise, to be sure, but a welcome one. So, I rolled with it. The Starks were fucking mesmerized by fear, wonder, amazement, and confusion. It was kind of funny, actually, seeing as, mere moments ago, their group had the upper hand in the negotiations. But now, they were fucking fumbling. "T'is a pleasure to make your acquaintance, Lady Stark."
"I can assure you," I continued, channeling just the tiniest bit of Necrotic Energy into my eyes to give that extra wow factor, which probably made me scarier than the scariest motherfucking thing these people had ever seen in their entire lives. "My powers are no ruse..."
I'm not even entirely sure why I'm bothering with this little show. But, then again, why do we ever do anything? Well, I'm doing it for my own entertainment and amusement, of course! To further accentuate my point, I brought out the skeletal minions I'd kept within Mormont Keep for security reasons. Only about a hundred or so. I only brought out about a dozen of them, however, and had them walk into the dining hall. And that was when the veteran Stark Warriors started screaming like frightened little girls. I may have overdone this.
AN: Chapter 27 is up on (Pat)reon!