A. N. - Apologies for the long wait on this chapter, as stated above a family emergency came up. Before reading I wanted to address, that in the past 2 chapters I had several characters refer to Renly and Margaery as Lady and Lord, as Opposed to King and Queen. This has been corrected in this chapter, I plan to edit previous chapters to reflect this change. Hope all enjoy the chapter.

Also, I am proud to announce my beta, Leanansidhe (On Spacebattles). I strongly encourage all to check out their stories as well.


Ranni II

Ranni was unsure what to make of the King and his people at the time, as she was brought inside the biggest tent in the camp. One befit for the king, she supposed.

The people here held a fear in their eyes, a fear she recognized. Plenty of people in the lands between were afeared of sorceries, especially those within the Golden Order itself. The time of peace Mother and Father brought was gone from the world. Much of the knowledge of it sinking into the very ground itself.

"Renna, Please sit." She looked up toward the voice, it was a woman. She held a soft face and was brown of eye, wearing rich clothing. This was the queen of these strange people no doubt.

She did what the queen asked. Ranni appreciated the reminder of Renna. Her false persona.

"I must ask, what are thine names? I know them not."

"Ah, yes, of course. How rude of me. I am King Renly Baratheon, Lord Paramount of the Stormlands," said the man who ended the earlier conflict.

"I am Queen Margaery, Lady of Highgarden, of the Reach."

Stormlands? How similar to Stormveil. Was that similarity coincidence or something more? Ranni thought on her knowledge of the lands between, was there such a place called the Stormlands? After a brief consideration, she concluded no, unless it was another land hidden, like the Eternal Cities of the Nox. Ranni doubted such given the look and uneasy nature they projected, just from the sight of her.

"I am quite familiar with the titles of King, Queen, Lord, and Lady but the location I do not recognize. Stormlands, and the Reach, You do near a realm of storms though, Stormveil castle. Is that where you hail?"

"No, I am afraid I do not recognize any of this, ah, Stormlands. The Reach is the lands my Wife and I hail from, in the country of Westeros."

"I can not say I've ever heard of such a place."

The king nodded at that.

"I would say the same of whatever this place is."

She brought her

"You find yourself in the Lands Between the Sea of Fog. In the lower lands of Limgrave."

"These lands are Limgrave then?"

The man said the words with uncertainty,

"Thou are correct. The lands you find yourself upon, are Limgrave, part of the greater Lands Between."

"Does the…" She heard the king clear his throat, as a look of worry crossed his face, "glowing tree lie in these lands?"

He felt uneasy about the tree as well? This was not normal to their lands. How peculiar.

She had yet to answer the king's question though which she took a moment to envision the path to the tree, and summarized.

"It lies beyond Limgrave, past the great trench. In the capital city of Leyndell, rooted in the waters of the Altus Plateau."

The King opened his mouth to speak but the words of another came out instead.

"Lady Renna, what do you know of the Tree. How is it illuminated?"

Hmm, she thought back to the tales she heard as a child of the tree. Supposedly sprouting with the most golden of shines from first bloom. Eventually becoming the place Marika's Dynasty would be held, and the place where it would eventually stagnate. Holding the entire land hostage under its oppressive golden glow.

"The tree is the holding place of the Elden Ring, and Queen Marika The Eternal. It is said it shined from the day it sprouted."

"Yes, thank you Maester Murtur, if you may pardon interruptions," Renly spoke irritation evident.

"Yes, yes, of course, King Renly. Apologies." The man who inquired about the tree said. Seemingly defeated by the demand of his king.

"Very well. Now you called yourself a witch? Does proof exist of this claim?"

Proof? Sorcery, though not fully accepted, was a well-known reality of the lands between. Why did he need proof, did they not just see her aid in the fight with the tree sentinel?

Nonetheless, She imagined the stars the smallest of them, she imagined her desire, the spell she wanted to cast, she imagined the stars forming in her hands and the faintest of energies did, creating a glinstone pebble, before discarding it summarily.

The knightess surged to her feet, her long sword pulled free from her scabbard in a heartbeat and Ranni saw steadfast determination and a flicker of fear in the knightess' eyes. The other man, the pretty one, had likewise surged forward, brandishing his steel blade in Ranni's face.

Ranni sighed, she was met with aggression yet again for carrying out the request of the king, by the duty driven knightess and the man who looked more pretty than strong and yet Ranni was intrigued by the Man who called himself king, though she saw fear beneath his eyes.

"Stand down both of you we have much to discuss,"

Renly smiled at her, clearly preparing to ask her a question. However she could not accept this disrespect, why were these people treating her in this way? If she wanted to kill the man or any of the people in this tent, and the broader camp she very well could have, several times over. This was not the typical intolerance of Carian mages by the order either, this was something else entirely.

"You, who say you are to be king and queen of these people, why am I greeted with swords and threats, for aid, and cooperation?"

"As I said we do not have sorceries like these in my lands and beyond this, your appearance is rather… unnerving if you noticed none of my people look like you."

Ranni was taken aback by the comment. Though not her original, she took pride in her appearance, being reminded of her teacher every time she looked in the mirror. The women who taught her everything her mother didn't and much more. May the moon still guide her beyond the Sea of Fog.

"What cruel insult, the sight of a witch of snow is a blessing in many ways." She smiled at the memory of her teacher.

She heard a gasp, behind her she looked, and it was no doubt the noble women she saw exit the tent when these people first appeared. Woman sank back into herself at the sight of Ranni, as if she was a crow of Caelid.

The king even looked taken aback by the comment and the queen developed a look of caution as well. The people of these lands of storms fear easily, she deduced. The simple sight of her caused even their leaders to fear. Fitting for the cowardly sort who defeated a sentinel of the Erdtree with number games as opposed to a fight of true courage and bravery.

"Are sorceries like this commonplace in your realm?"

She thought on the question supposing they were common enough, but to call them common? Though even so, she had no particular desire to answer the man's question due to his people's obvious aversion to her and magic in and of itself.

Such behavior she was somewhat used to, for her Mother always said before she wed Radagon sorcerers faced much intolerance. That was what she heard from Mother. Even after the union it still persisted within many zealots of the Order and other influences. After their marriage was broken, it rose to new heights even beyond those before the union.

With a time, of course, even those of the Order became discontent with the state of things. As fracturing and rot swept the lands, the disagreement still presents itself.

However, she noted the lack of acceptance these strangers held, it reminded her not of the true zealots of the Order. But of those who just did as they said. The lesser tarnished who held the sight of grace no longer but did not serve any of the demigods either.

"We simply ask cause we do not want to face death, as we did today." The soft voice of the king's wife, Margaery, exclaimed, her smile complimenting her voice.

Death? A rare occurrence in the lands since the rune was cast away, Death happened due to the wiping of remembrance from the Erdtree, and not due to the fell swoop of black flame, or a blade of death. Yet, in the case of these travelers for one reason or another, they would not return. That much she could tell, from just moments after they were felled.

She thought back to The unwilling traveler's firght with the tree sentinel. Charge and overwhelm the enemy.

A people like this some duty-driven but many cowardly enough to only fight with odds ten to one would not last long in these lands bereft of grace…

Their memory to the winds and not within the falling leaves.

Those who perished here truly perished…

The thought of true death brought her back to the night the first major step of her plan concocted.

Her teacher bid her farewell intending to cross the Sea of Fog, as she intended long before.

Ranni however could not allow her to leave.

Instead, she asked her teacher to stay, and stay she did for a time. A time in which she learned more of the ways of snow, and more of what it truly meant to be an Empyrean.

Though on the Night of the Black Knives after Alecto left, when all came to a head, she said goodbye to her in the Sea of Fog, well asking one last request.

"Help me make a fog of winter so dense, none but the Numen can see."

Her teacher granted her this wish… knowing very well what it meant.

But the faith of the Golden must be guaranteed.

If she perished but he did not, she may be free but the land would be not.

She remembered the chill of the fog she and her teacher created.

They do desire knowledge, they desired more than that but knowledge is what they need to survive these lands. All would do best to learn much of the lands between.

She would give them such.

She considered in her head what to tell the king of the courageous knight, and those duty-driven to him.

She considered the knowledge those in the lands between largely knew or thought they knew, the scattered pieces of a whole…

"One would be wise to learn of the lands between."

The King had the briefest of smiles at that statement, "Yes knowledge of these lands is very important, and you will be properly compensated if you give us information."

She did not desire compensation but she was intrigued by these strange foreigners so she began.

"Many moons past, the demigod was slain, Godwyn the Golden, friend of dragons."

"Dragons?" The king asked uneasily.

"Yes, dragons, sentinels of time. Those who existed before us."

"Was this man who was "friend of dragons" as you say, did he have white or silver hair?"

What an odd question to ask. As far as she knew most of those she found to be friendly with dragons had no association with hair, only eyes of narrow yellow of those who consumed, and the despotic gold those who parlayed with the dragons in the capitol wore. Silver hair was not a foible held, she wondered if this was another strange trait of this land from wherever they hailed Westeros.

"No, Godwyn had golden hair, did silver hair have a place in your lands?"

He did not answer her question, but he simply nodded to her disappointment.

"Thine lands, sound most fascinating. I would enjoy learning much. Though, thee must understand the Lands Between better, T'will be forsworn as such."

Renly looked and took a moment to take things in but simply nodded.

"Thee inquired about the nature of the golden one, I gave mention of Stormveil. Most interestingly the current enforcer of the lands of Limgrave, is of the golden lineage, Godrick the Grafted. He presides over these lands, and he is the one responsible for those Tarnished you saw upon the stakes outside these tents."

Both the supposed king and queen gained looks of concern at that mention.

"He strung up those bodies?"

"Nay, he did not directly, he has rarely left Stormveil Castle, since the shattering, he sends his soldiers out since the return of the Tarnished. I believe they mean to serve as warning."

The king gave a disturbed nod at that.

"What is this Shattering? What is the Tarnished?"

They know not even of the Tarnished? She would have assumed they came across some given Marika's orders to send them past the Sea of Fog to fight wars for her. Truly in blissful ignorance these foreigners are.

"Renna?"

The king was growing impatient. She thought for moments what to say and decided upon the story she told before.

"As I said earlier of the death of Godwyn, the queen Marika, who hails within the tree as I mentioned called the Erdtree. The death of her firstborn brought her to the brink of grief unchallenged."

She looked at the inhabitants of the tent, to verify attention was kept, and continued

"In her grief, she shattered the Elden ring, for what reason it is not known."

The king was about to speak but she continued on.

"Due to this, Marika's children began searching for power by warring amongst each other. Those who possessed shards of the Elden ring, the most fearsome of the two being Malenia the Severed, the Blade of Miquella, and General Radahn Conqueror of the Stars, fought in battle long and hard and at its head, no victor would be hailed, because of this we inhabit a fractured land."

The denizens of the tent looked both fascinated and confused by the tale.

"The tarnished were creations of Marika sent out to conquer lands beyond the lands between. Have you heard of such?"

With resounding nods of no she begun to tell the tale of the tarnished.


Loras II

Loras made his way to the edge of the camp where the force of soldiers seemed to be arriving from. He was glad to be facing something more in his element, but truthfully he and his fellow soldiers were exhausted and many were seemingly struck dumb with fear.

He wondered to himself, did he cause this? Something he had been wondering since they ended up in this strange place and even more so after dealing with that witch woman. He shuddered at the memory of her spell creating a hole through the very chair she sat in. Loras sniffed the air, allowing the smell of nature, to bring him out of his thoughts and help him focus.

His mother had always told Loras that he was safest where he could smell the roses. It served as security in his childhood, but as he grew he used that information to bring him into focus when he was not at the safety of home. When he sniffed the air and did not smell the overbearing roses, he knew to keep his guard up. Most helpful in times like these when his thoughts were bothersome, threatening to take his focus.

With his focus returned, he stared intently at the small force making its way towards the camp. They marched in an orderly fashion, with one at the head he'd wager as a commander.

Loras motioned for soldiers to take positions behind tents, and in between the short hills the landscape provided. Loras along with Robar Royce approached the front of the camp, with a group of 100 soldiers behind them. Loras took the deepest breath he could

"Halt! You approach the camp of King Renly Baratheon, Lord Paramount of the Storm Lands! State your intention!"

The soldiers walked a pace more before stopping.

The soldiers, including the leader, moved in a strange manner, not slow, but their limb movements were strange and produced a lot of cracking noises. The scent produced as they neared was not pleasing either. Not dissimilar to the scent of a long-dead corpse. In fact, that was exactly what the scent was, not the smell of a newly decayed, but stagnant…

The eyes behind the helm of the leader looked truly dead, with no light in them at all.

"We are soldiers of God-rick, the Golden King of Storm-veil." The leader's voice sounded dry, the words coming out almost hard to understand. As the leader spoke Loras swore the decay in the air increased.

"We have been sent to find your intentions under His Majesty's golden territory," the leader concluded.

Loras allowed his fist to clench, angered. He hoped they would not have to deal with something like this for some time, but it was an expected possibility upon the announcement of the group heading their way.

He glanced up at the castle, upon the mountain above. Almost looking down at them like tiny ants. Certainly, a large keep, perhaps even near the size of Harrenhal, though that was hard to say, with the upward perspective he looked at it from.

Though, if that keep was truly that size and was that high up, the tree towering over it was a truly uncomfortable sight. Loras took a breath in through his nose regaining his focus once more.

"Our intentions are to gather ourselves here peacefully, not engaging with any of the forces of King Godrick," Loras responded.

The guard stopped and slowly brought its arm up cracks being heard through the movement, scratching the chin of its helm, in thought. During the silence he noticed fearful whispers amongst the camp, judging by that and Robar Royce's face he was not the only one to notice the scent and strange movements produced by the small militia.

"Do you swear fealty to Godrick the Golden?"

Beads of sweat began to form on his face. What were these things? The Witch was one matter, but despite these soldiers of Godrick looking more human, in the sense that they had the correct amount of limbs. At least as far as Loras could tell. There was something deeply unsettling about them. The leader looked to grow anxious, his arm fidgeting near his sword. Loras took a breath.

"No we have pledged fealty to King Renly" Loras replied shakily, moving his hand towards his sword, Robar mirroring him. Loras took a deep breath through his nose.

"He is our people's king." Loras said, confidence somewhat renewed.

"You unwisely proclaim yourself an enemy of Godrick the Golden?"

"No, we are not enemies of His Majesty Godrick, we are foreigners. Who know not of these lands, we are not enemies."

Some of the soldiers following went rigid at the statement. Loras began to maneuver himself into a defensive position.

The commander spoke again, "If you do not swear fealty to Godrick the Golden, how do we know you do not intend to harm him, as many others have?"

Loras was unsure what to say, he refused to swear fealty to a foreign king. Not when he was already sworn to his dearest stag. He was given instructions by Renly to not tie themselves to anyone here without his say. He was prepared to fight though, he could take them, with the force they had, this was something he knew.

Though something he'd prefer to avoid, even if in his heart of hearts he wanted to slaughter them all for daring to demand fealty of him and disrespect Renly. They seemed to not be giving him much choice, either. Despite stating peaceful intentions they still demanded fealty and, of course, that was the reason for the soldiers in cover and the force behind him.

"Ser Loras, I shall handle this," said the rich voice of his king, and Loras felt a brief respite.

"Hello, soldiers of Godrick, I am King Renly, leader of those within this camp. I will respect king Godrick's rule in his lands, I only desire to seek passage back to my home country for me and my people," Renly commander of the militia remained rigid and his arm began to near his sword in a much more direct way than before.

"I propose a deal, we shall guard these lands, from the tarnished, who your king has rightfully slain. If we are provided safety in Limgrave-" King Renly said.

The guard began to laugh, well he appeared to laugh, for what came out was more like whispers and cracks, complemented by a further scent of decay.

"Safety, in these lands? Ha! Safety is not a possibility! However this offer to help, to end the tarnished, that is delectable. We shall return to Godrick with this offer."

The commander turned, and his soldiers followed, back toward the direction of the foreboding keep.

With them, the scent of decay mostly followed. Some still lingered, unfortunately, catching Renly's nosewhich scrunched up.

"Loras, I request your presence in my chambers tonight," Renly said, patting his shoulder.

Loras smiled briefly, thankful that despite the circumstances, this had not changed. That smile quickly disappeared though, as he looked over to Renly and saw the confidence sink from his eyes and Loras saw the terror below. His dear stag. His own face sank at the sight.

"Understood, Your Grace." Loras said, eyes growing grimmer.

Renly smiled, but the light did not reach his eyes, and with that, he took his leave.

Renly allowed his frown to straighten, and glanced back at the soldiers of Godrick. They were a ways away,now. Loras let out a long-held breath. He was thankful they were dealt with without violence, and he did not desire to start a war they would surely lose. But, the farther away they got the closer they got to Stormveil and bringing up these terms to their Lord.

"Ser Loras! We found weapons where that gigantic horseback rider was slain! Thing's mighty heavy"

Loras looked and saw two soldiers and the gigantic halberd that cut Bryce Carons head in two. Covered in his man's blood. The scent dried but was still there. He shuddered at the memory, he had never witnessed a man's head split. Beheaded, yes, but half his head still attached to his body and the other not?

That was a most uncomfortable site and Loras had half a mind to tell these soldiers to destroy the weapon, but it looked of impressive make. He glanced at his side ensuring his sword was still in its scabbard, and held out his hands and allowed the weapon to be placed within. Loras felt his hands immediately weighed down, quickly going down to his hips and his hands were sweating just keeping ahold of the halberd.

"You two take it to King Renly's tent," Loras said, face red.


Shortly after he sent those soldiers to Renly's tent, he was given a new position.

The position of guarding that damned witch.

Loras was anxious to be done with this Renna, desperately hoping for her to be ousted from the camp.

He had to sit through a lower commander fighting with him about, 'how we should just dispose of that four-armed whore.'

Loras knew of course that trying to kill someone like that was dangerous. Thinking on the many things he learned about Stannis's lord of light followers amid the smell of crisping flesh. That, however, did not make him like this any more than he did.

He never enjoyed guard duty, he either was sitting stagnant or on edge depending on who he was guarding. Though he appreciated that Renly and his sister trusted him with this as opposed to that she-beast Brienne.

Suddenly the woman grew restless.

He gripped his handle, partially removing the blade.

Suddenly, the woman looked straight at him, her blue eyes piercing his own.

"Thou must make haste, a malevolent force makes its way towards your king." She said.

Loras' heart jumped… who dared attack Renly? Was this the witch tricking him?

"What do you mean, witch?"

Renna scoffed but replied nonetheless as she moved her hands almost as if in a dance.

"Malevolent energies converge in increasing fortitude, unknown energies that I surmise are connected to the king."

"Thou can choose not to believe me, but regret would be had."

Loras recognized this could be a trick, but it was his stag, and with the feelings of hours before, he had to check on Renly.

The witch was right, regret would never be unmade if Renly did indeed die. No more of his work would Renly embrace, his strong humorous words…

The way his shoulder carved into his back.

He would not let Renly down, but he could not allow the witch to roam free. So he took her with him.

"I cannot just let you walk where you will," Loras said curtly, gesturing for Renna to follow him.

He exited their tent. And headed towards Renly and his sisters. Upon entering the tent he heard words shouted.

"Dear husband, are you sure this is a wise course of action, you just made a deal with them?" He heard his sister

"I am not suggesting the whole camp relocate, simply find a location to set aside a portion of—"

Suddenly, it grew quiet-

"Loras what are you doing…" His sister stopped herself upon seeing Renna.

"Ser Loras, what is going on?" Both Renly and his sister looked with disapproving eyes at him.

Rage began to build up inside him, as he stared behind himself at the witch, She made him look like a fool. He began to reach for his sword hilt…

Loras gripped it with all his rage when suddenly a breeze blew open the tent and brushed past him.

The tent somehow grew quieter than it already was, and Loras looked toward Renly and saw a shadow in the shape of a man.

It looked like a creature made of pure dark… Loras thought with every second he looked at it. Light draining, from himself… and from all around it, as if it was the cause of darkness itself…

"One's baleful shadow?" Renna said.

It reached its hand up. Towards his beloved.

Death, this was it…. This was how his stag died…. He felt a chill from behind him. Then suddenly a large purple sphere crashed into the very darkness…

The fog over his mind he did not know was there was gone in an instant.

He looked and saw the shadow still present but its movements much slower, still in front of Renly but it's hand seemingly deciding to take its leisurely time getting there. Suddenly Renly jumped back, and ran, around the shadow to Loras, Margaery following behind, eyes wide with shock.

He looked at the only person he knew could've done this.

"You conjured this demon, Witch!"

"Thou speak falsehoods, this work is not mine, it reminds me of something I have seen, but the magic present here interferes with mine own."

All he wanted to do was to slash the witch down at that moment. Loras' hand turned white from his grip.

However looking at the shadow, he knew he could not for even if he did. Somehow he knew Renly would still face death.

Loras took a deep breath in through his nose wishing desperately that he could smell roses.