The news of the former queen's upcoming wedding to the man who had been instrumental in the overthrow of her family from the throne travelled through the keep, the city, and the entire country with the speed and thoroughness of wildfire. Before the day was out, the servants were talking about it, and by the next morning, houses who had never been delivered the news personally had learned of it from those who attended them.
Kurt wished that those people could keep out of his business. Already, a half a dozen lords and ladies had approached him about possibly attending the wedding, and how many of their family and household they might be allowed to bring. Kurt felt as if he'd already spoken to half the nobility of Westeros. Rhaella herself found new acquaintances appearing left and right, practically crawling out of the walls. Each and every one seemed to be trying to pass themselves off as a friend to her in order to attend the ceremony. The former queen greeted them with courtesy, as was expected of her, but quickly found her patience worn thin under the constant onslaught of false flattery, most of which seemed to be for the purpose of seeing the Plataea, where the wedding would take place.
Kurt had asked her about her feelings on the matter earlier, when they had left Elia to speak with her brother, and though Rhaella had not yet seen whatever passed for a sept in House Terra's lands, she would have preferred it over the Great Sept. It had been the site of her wedding to Aerys, and then too many funerals after Summerhall and the birth of Rhaegar. Too many ghosts haunted her there that she felt no desire to dig up.
The faith itself seemed less than pleased about this. The House of Terra had never made an indication that they followed the faith of the seven as the rest of the seven kingdoms, save the North and Iron Islands, worshiped and even then, they barely tolerated the continued deference of those two kingdoms to their own gods.
It was that point of contention that brought the High Septon to Kurt's quarters only a day after the notice of his coming wedding was handed out. Kurt sincerely hoped that the man would be at least somewhat reasonable considering the existence of differing faiths in the North and the Iron Islands but given what he'd seen after his supposed insult at the trial by seven, he'd doubted it.
"Lord Terra." The High Septon addressed him.
Kurt barely took his eyes off of the paperwork that he had in front of him. Though there was little to be done on actual paper, he was using a tablet and going over the current building projects on Fair Isle and the status of the various away teams that he had patrolling the rest of the world. Kurt would have preferred to ignore then man, but as he'd learned, the best way to get rid of a persistent Westerosi was to give them the bare minimum, as ignoring them would only insult them and make them more insistent in getting his attention.
"Yes, your holiness." He said, meeting the man's eyes for only a moment before once again turning to read through reports.
"Queen Rhaella is a loyal daughter of the faith, and with your announcement of your marriage to her, I must ask why you have not decided to hold the celebration of your marriage in the Great Sept, to better show that your people hold the Seven in your hearts like good men of our realm."
"I was unaware that faith in the Seven was required to be a 'good man' of Westeros." Kurt said. "I'll make sure to inform Lord Rickard Stark when I next see him."
The High Septon bristled, his face darkening slightly.
"I would never impugn the honour of one of the Lords Paramount of Seven Kingdoms, but you must understand that the North is home to a savage people, the same as the Iron Islands, though the Old Gods are admittedly less barbarous than the Drowned God. Still, you must see that the faith of the Seven had brought much goodness and godliness to the realm. We only seek to confirm that your house holds them dear in your heart."
"I understand your desires Your Holiness, to ensure that your faith spreads as far as it can. This wedding is another way to do that, hopefully amongst my people. Unfortunately, Your Holiness, I cannot give you what you want. The Plataea is a place without religious imperatives, and I could count a half-dozen religions that are followed just amongst my command staff. The Seven is a local deity, and so we have few if any of our people who follow them, new as we are to your lands."
The older man looked shocked before pulling his face into something resembling a controlled façade, though Kurt could see clear as day the distaste that the man held when he claimed to support other faiths.
"But as you are now here in this land, surely you must understand that the Seven have much power. Your actions at the trial of the Kingsguard were blasphemous, but nothing that cannot be redeemed with proper piety."
"Piety is not required in the Plataea beyond personal conviction." Kurt said. "You want me to mandate worship of the Seven in my ship and amongst my people. I cannot do that. It is against one of the fundamental laws of my people, and if I broke it, I'd be ousted from command before the day was up."
"Your rule is so fragile?" The High Septon asked. "Your own people would turn against you, but for proclaiming faith in the true gods."
"My people could care less what I worship, if I chose to worship at all." Kurt said. "But if I were to force that worship on them? There wouldn't need to be a rebellion in the face of a formal removal of my from command. As such, I'll be making no statements on matters of religion. The State and Faith are separate in our homelands, and I will continue that tradition here to the best of my ability."
"And the queen?" The man asked. "You would deny a daughter of the Faith?"
"Rhaella is free to worship whatever gods she might choose. I have no problems with that, and neither do any of my people. There will likely be a septon to preside over the ceremony, as Rhaella is a follower of the Seven. This wedding however will take place in the Plataea, where Rhaella has fewer memories of cruelty at the hands of her former husband."
"My lord, surely you must see that this obstinacy is to the detriment of your people."
"I don't. I will not have you stand here, attempting to threaten me in whatever pitiful way this is."
Kurt stood up.
"I do not follow your religious doctrine, neither do any of my crew, and I will not force any such change on them simply to satisfy your desire to sure up the status of your faith."
He sat down again, looking over more reports and waving his hands.
"If you wish to aid in the wedding, I'm sure Rhaella will be happy to have a septon to help officiate the ceremony, but such matters are for her to decide, so you've done little here but waste my time and your own."
The signal to leave was clear, though the high septon seemed less than enthused to take it.
"So be it, my lord, but know this, the faith with not sit idly by as foreigners attempt to subvert them. We did not cower before the First Men and their gods, nor the gods of the east. Even Valyrian dragons bent before the will of the Seven who are One. You will be no exception."
"I'm sure." Kurt said, injecting a noticeable amount of sarcasm into his voice. "Say a prayer then, and I'm sure the gods themselves will smite me down for my so called 'blasphemy'."
The high septon left in a huff, his crystal crown shimmering and his robes flowing behind him. The door slammed shut, leaving Kurt alone as he read over a few more reports.
The faith was an irritating bunch. Kurt understood the powers and motives of houses in this feudalistic society, but a religious organisation on the level of the Catholic Church, with its own variation of the pope, was a level of unpredictability that he could not find himself comfortable dealing with. Too many things could change too quickly with the handing over of power in such an organisation, and to him, keeping them as far from him and his people as possible, while also keeping them at arm's length, was better than trying to court him.
Sighing slightly, Kurt rubbed his forehead, looking back over his tablets.
It was only about an hour later when another knock on his door roused him from his monotony.
"Come in."
Entering the room, Kurt adopted a more friendly expression upon seeing his new guest.
"Lord Rickard, welcome."
The Lord of Winterfell and Warden of the North nodded in greeting, walking up to his desk, though he still needed a cane to move, having not yet finished recovering from his time spent in the Black Cells.
"Lord Terra, it seems that you are a man of many plans." The Warden of the North held up the folded letter, delivered to each of the seven Lords Paramount who were in attendance of the council. Once he returned, he'd send a formal letter to the Ironborn, though he doubted that any of them would make an appearance.
Kurt regarded the man with a mix of interest and bemusement.
"A marriage to the queen." The man said, taking a seat on the other side of Kurt's desk. "A rather quick way to get on the nerves of just about everybody."
Kurt smiled.
"And also, a good way to keep every side from trying anything."
"A peace through mutual fear of your reprisal." Rickard said, leaning back in his chair. "Both on behalf of your own men and rebel allies, and the loyalty that the former queen might still induce in the royalists."
"And in the end, neither side can make a move towards hurting my people."
"An interesting move." Rickard said, before leaning forwards again and resting his elbows on his knees in the chair. "One that can be discussed at a later date. For now, I believe I must ask for aid."
Kurt put down the report he'd still been skimming over, giving Rickard most of his attention, but not all of it.
"And how can I help sir?"
"My daughter, she has been… broken, since the birth of her son. She has rarely eaten and slept. She barely cares for the child, so much so we have had to find a wetnurse for him, and when she does, she looks at her own son as if he is something… wrong."
"I am sorry for this, Lord Rickard, but what makes you think I can help in this?"
"Lady Ashara. She said that you gave her some form of medicine, and her childbed sorrow lessened. Lyanna must suffer from the same thing, I know it."
Kurt gnawed at the inside of his mouth. He would have preferred that any anti-depressants that his medical team gave Ms. Dayne remain less than well known, he didn't want to start any kind of drug distribution outside of the Plataea, but Ashara's case had been severe. She had almost killed herself at one point, according to the surveillance teams that had been assigned to her and the royal children.
"Is there anything else?" He asked cautiously, trying to perhaps steer the conversation into other directions.
Rickard's eyes darted around, as if looking for a spy or eavesdropper.
"You know of Rhaegar's madness? His obsession with prophecy?"
Kurt nodded.
"He had something of a fixation on them."
"I believe that whatever illness he had, might have burrowed its way into Lyanna. She speaks of prophecy often now. How it must be true, how Rhaegar could not have been wrong. She seems convinced that it something will come of this, and will tolerate no argument against it."
Kurt nodded
"It sounds as if she has forced herself to believe in Rhaegar, and nothing else."
"Indeed, perhaps you and your healers have some kind of medicine, something that might cure her."
Kurt just shook his head.
"I'm sorry Lord Stark, but there's only so much we can do. It sounds to me as if she wants to believe that this prophecy Rhaegar spoke of it true. Do you happen to know the full extent of it?"
"I've gathered enough from the two of them. According to them, the Others are returning, great demons of ice and snow who cloaked the world in a winter so long that men were born, grew and died before it ended, a winter than lasted a generation. They believed that only Rhaegar's children, a son and two daughters to match Aegon and his sister-wives, could stop it, and Lyanna was to give birth to his second daughter."
"Obviously, that did not happen." Kurt raised an eyebrow.
"Indeed, but Lyanna is still adamant about the prophecy. She seems obsessed with proving it, despite the boy that she has given birth to."
"A prophecy of doom for all, held back only by the actions that have hurt comparatively few. Lord Rickard, have you ever heard of the sunk-cost-fallacy?"
The lord of Winterfell looked puzzled as he regarded the spartan lord.
"I don't believe so, my lord."
"Well, it is something of an interesting idea. It occurs mainly with charlatans and other con-men. A victim is tricked out of a significant sum of money, usually by getting caught up in some scheme, but continues to participate in the hope of making some of that money back, when the smartest thing to do would be admit to being tricked, accept the loss and move on."
Rickard nodded his head, following so far before his eyes widened.
"You think-"
"Your son Brandon, her people, her reputation, the love of family and everything else this war has cost her, likely Lyanna is falling into something similar to the sunk-cost-fallacy. She cannot accept that she has lost it all and continues to play along and convince herself of this prophecy because she believes that it will get her back at least some of what she has lost."
Rickard's eyes widened further before he sunk back into the chair with a sigh.
"It's an understandable reaction, to a point, and not something that can be treated by medicine, at least not fully. The best thing to do it to make sure she understands the world, not as she wants it to be, but as it is."
The Lord of Winterfell held his head in his hands slumping forwards. He took deep frustrated breaths
"Lord Rickard?" Kurt asked, leaning over his desk.
"Thank you, my lord." Rickard said, sitting up and taking a deep breath to calm his shaking hand. "This meeting has been helpful."
"Of course." Kurt nodded. "If there is anything else?"
"No." The Warden of the North said, getting to his feet.
"I believe that is all I have to ask regarding your aid with my daughter. Instead, I must ask again about the ceremony of this marriage. You have invited many a powerful lord. Do you intend to host them all, and their retinues, in your great castle, the Plataea?"
"Not as such. My home is a military base, not a residential one. Instead, you will be hosted in one of the high-rises that we have been constructing over the last few years. Six of them were just completed for civilian and personal use, most likely we'll put you up there."
"I see. I must admit, I will miss your glass dome at the top of your home. It was a spectacular view."
"I'm sure we can accommodate you, Lord Rickard. After all, you have been our guest once before."
The man smiled, getting out of his chair and walking with his cane towards his door.
"Of course, I look forwards to attending. I'm sure it will be a great occasion."
With that, the Old Wolf walked out of Kurt's chambers, leaving the man to look over reports once again without interruption.
"I think we've got something."
Tom looked over at the data centre, where the latest batch of planetary sensor data was being sifted through by one of the analysts that the Plataea had sent up north.
"What is it? Anything we need to worry about?"
Normally, new information was none of his team or his concern, but occasionally it meant they had to venture somewhere to get clearer readings, pick up samples, or install some on-site equipment. Tom had learned early that the faster he knew about such possibilities, the better.
"Not sure yet, it's not a physical phenomenon, not like some of the others."
Lucy looked up from her book, eyes scanning over the data that was covering the screens.
"It's some kind of… energy storm, but nothing like what we'd normally see."
"When is an energy storm normal?" Tom asked.
"It's not, that's why I said that. We'd normally never see anything like this, but it's happening."
"Is data transmitting to the Plataea?"
"In real time, we should be getting some feedback from autumn soon."
"The fuck am I seeing?"
Sure enough, the artificial intelligence in charge of managing the Plataea appeared on the holo-projector at the side of the main workstation.
"We were hoping you'd be able to tell us."
Autumn's holographic face scrunched and froze in place as the processing power reserved for it was rerouted. Information, poured across the screen where Autumn had accessed it, sorting though every ounce of data.
Tom watched as information far too advanced for him all but flew across the screen. The analyst who had first seen the effect tried to keep up with the data processing, but no human mind could hope to keep up with the speed at which Autumn could assimilate the information.
"Spartan Tom, where is the rest of your squad?"
Tom looked at the hologram, cautious in his response.
"There are no patrols scheduled for the next eight hours. They're out taking care of a personal project."
"Recall them now."
"Ma'am?" Tom asked.
"There's a snowstorm coming though, and it's perfectly overlapping with the energy phenomenon that the satellites are recording. We have zero visibility through this."
"Is there real danger ma'am?"
"Better not to risk it spartan. Recall your squad, now."
"Boundless Autumn." Tom turned, looking at Lucy as she spoke to get the AI's attention before signing the rest.
'There's a small community of locals in a shelter that spartans Adam and Min have been working on, will that serve as adequate protection from the storm?'
"Normally it might, if it were just a standard snowstorm, but we have no idea what this strange energy permeating it might have."
'Then shouldn't we bring in the locals?'
Tom looked Lucy over. His friend looked professional, the picture of spartan obedience, but Tom knew better. Adam and Min had grown, if not attached, then fond of the nomads who wandered in and out of the shelter, and if this storm posed some kind of danger, then Lucy would do what she could to help as many as possible.
"We can't compromise the integrity and security of the outpost, Spartan B-091"
'According to Adam and Min, the shelter holds nearly two-hundred locals, we couldn't bring them all here if we wanted to. Mjolnir should provide adequate protection from outside weather and other forces, given that it's arguably more insulated than the outpost itself. We can go out with them and ensure both the outpost and shelter are secured.'
Autumn paused again, the lack of movement indicating that she was crunching numbers.
"We can run it by the captain" Tom offered.
Autumn's hologram blinked out of existence. Tom exchanged glances with Lucy, gesturing with his head to go and suit up, Lucy shook her own head, signing to him that she would stay and get the captain's permission.
"Storm's moving fast, we'll need a decision quick." The tech said, typing frantically on the keyboard. The lights in the outpost dimmed, changing to emergency power and lighting as it entered into lockdown mode. Doors locked and sealed, ventilation ducts closed off and Tom knew that the room would soon begin to smell of disinfectant and recycled oxygen.
"Tom, Lucy." The holo-projector showed a image of their captain's head and torso,
"Sir."
The two spartans snapped into crisp military salutes before falling into parade rest.
"Autumn's caught me up on the situation. You two want to go out there?"
"Affirmative sir. We believe that it might be best to not only get a better glimpse of the anomaly, but also ensure the safety of a group of locals who have taken refuge in a shelter Adam and Min have been constructing as a side-project."
"I've seen in their report about this 'hobby'. I appreciate your work, but we can't compromise our safety for a group of nomads."
"Sir, we won't bring them into the outpost, but we can provide perimeter defense of both it, and the shelter."
Kurt looked at his two spartans. Across an entire continent and through a holo-projector, and he could see what the look in their eyes said. It was similar to the one he'd seen in Jane when he'd asked about emotional compromise. He sighed, perhaps his spartans, so lacking in real social abilities beyond their branch, were not the best to saddle with the civilisational equivalent of children. Jane considered Rhaella as a friend, but others looked at the natives as something more like pets. He remembered the conversation he'd had had with parts of Echo and Lima squads, who had all but adopted their local war company.
"I'm going to regret this=" He said, rubbing his forehead. "-but fine. Mission approved, but take some of the sensor and monitoring equipment, I want Autumn to take some readings of what's going on in that storm."
"It won't be long." The lab tech said, returning to the room with the other dozen techs, all dressed in hazmat suits.
"The storm's almost over us. It's moving quickly, but strangely. It's too regular, almost like it's directed."
"Well then, we should be able to keep track of its heading. I want constant updates, and visual updates."
"Sir." Autumn interrupted. "The storm and the energy readings are preventing us from getting any visual data from it. I recommend we get the remaining spartans inside and wait it out."
"Acknowledged Autumn, but overruled." Kurt shook his head. "Tom, Lucy, get in your armours and get out there."
"Sir!" The lead communication specialist said, tapping at one of the panels. "We're receiving a message from Spartan B-004."
"Patch it through." Kurt said. "Adam, what's the situation."
"They're everywhere!" Adam's voice came in loud, over the speakers. "I've got multiple pings in the storm, visual confirmation and contact with hostiles, they won't stay down!"
Kurt's head snapped to the two spartans still in the outpost.
"Suit up! Now! Captain, I want this outpost on lockdown and in siege mode the second they're outside."
"Yes sir."
Tom was already running, Lucy right beside him, into the assembly room. The two platforms activated as soon as his feet fit into the boots, robotic arms affixing armour pieces to his body, and not for the first time, he cursed how slow the machines were in putting on his Mjolnir.
"Autumn, I want information from Adam and Min's suit sensors."
"Streaming data." She said, her hologram flashing again as she worked through the data.
"Anything?"
"Nothing, no heat signatures out in the storm, just the ones in the shelter and the spartans themselves."
"Motion trackers?"
"As he said, dozens of pings, they seem to be moving though the storm, but they're also circling the shelter and moving to intercept. Spartans B-004 and B-174 are intercepting them before they get there."
"I need answers Autumn. What is this?"
"Unknown sir. There's not enough information to explain this."
"Suggestions."
"An advanced faction with stealth tech capable of hiding heat signatures but not movement. Highly implausible. Anything else doesn't make sense."
"Sir!"
"Adam, Min, give me something spartans, what's going on?"
"They don't stay down sir! I've engaged a dozen of them in CQC, but they don't stop. Injuries hinder physical ability, but don't cause fatalities outside of highly lethal means!"
"Define 'highly lethal' spartan." Kurt asked.
"A broken spine didn't put one of them down." Adam said before grunting.
"I had to shatter one of their skulls to take them out." Min offered. "But there's more than that sir. One of them looked to be part way through decomposition."
"Decomposition?" Kurt asked. "Stream helmet video. Autumn, get me an analysis on these hostiles."
"Understo-" Suddenly Autumn stopped. Her hologram blinked before winking out completely.
"Autumn?" Kurt asked. "Talk to me. What's going on?"
"Sir." Min said. "Contact from the locals. Recommendations of fire for dealing with hostiles."
Tom and Lucy emerged from the armour assembly rooms, clad head to tow in Mjolnir.
"Sir, any additional information?"
"Combatants are thought to have a vulnerability to fire. Take the flamethrowers from the weapons vault and extra canisters of accelerant. I want this contained and dealt with."
"Yes sir."
The two ran out of the room and the sound of the main door opening and closing behind them was the last sound before the siege protocols were enacted.
"We have a pelican enroute to your location. It's three hours out and closing." Kurt said. "Hold tight until then."
"Yes sir." The techs said, getting on the sensor equipment. "We'll monitor the data and ready the outpost for Cole protocol in case of breach."
"Good, I want constant updates on Foxtrot."
"Captain." Autumn's voice restarted. "There's been a development."
"Autumn, thank god. What happened?"
"The AI sir. It just woke up."
And that's where I'll leave you. I know this is late by a day, but this is the 45th chapter and the first aniversary of the story. Congrats y'all. This is my longest and most popular story, not that it has too much competition considering my slow track record with the others. We get everything here. Political temoil, Stark family drama. A small explaination of Lyanna's behaviour, and the first introduction of magic. Now I'm not sure how long the Others have been amassing forces, but considering in canon Mance deserted between 286 and 288, at least according to the wikis I checked, I think they've been gathering wights for a while. Now we see how UNSC tech and magic interact. Finally, the AI is up and at em. Let's see how that works out for everyone.