One day turned into a whole week, and there continued to be no sign of Gregaus, the Child of the Forest. On top of his informant's disappearing act, the constant waiting around has caused his people to grow restless. Despite this setback, Percy helped around the camp each day, no matter how menial the task of remembering as many names and faces as possible. At first, the lowborns were highly uncomfortable with their new lord's behavior, and many asked what he was doing, including the Stark children. Every time, he just smiled and continued with whatever task he was performing. In the afternoons, he found himself deep in the Wolfswood, waiting for his little friend.
"Where are you going? You leave every day." Arya and John sat at the edge of the camp as if they had been waiting for him. All around him, he felt the eyes of his people as they watched him expectantly. 'Gods, where are you, Gregaus?' he thought to himself, not for the first time.
John stood up with a sword strapped to his belt and asked the question he had dreaded. "When are we leaving Percy? The North is no place for a camping trip, and least of all, the Wolfswood. Already, we have spotted wolves and other large predators stalking our party!"
Percy looked around, making eye contact with each of his people before turning back to John. "We leave tomorrow whether or not I find what I am looking for. I hear you, John, and understand your and everyone else's worries. I cannot say what I am searching for, but I wouldn't keep you here like this if it wasn't important." Percy spoke in a commanding tone, answering John's question but speaking to everyone.
"Let us come with you. I want to see what is so important." Arya pleaded to John's right as she, too, stood up. Percy stared at Arya and then John before making a decision.
"I will take you both, but what I show you must not be told to anyone. You hear me?" Percy spoke in a barely audible voice so that only they could hear.
Half an hour later, they found themselves at the clearing he had been frequenting the last week. John and Arya were confused but didn't complain when Percy sat on a log. They spent hours in the forest, with Arya exploring the clearing along with John as Percy scanned the surrounding forest. Just as dusk began to blanket the sky, he felt the familiar presence and smiled.
"I see you brought friends," the familiar voice of the Child of the Forest said, eliciting a scream from Arya and a jump of fright from John. Neither Child was expecting something from myths to appear suddenly behind them.
"One of these days, you will get stabbed if you keep that up, Gragous." Percy was shaking his head, highly amused.
"Children weren't a part of the deal," was her only answer as she stared at the Starks before continuing, "though I suppose I don't mind if a few Starks overhear."
"You owe me anyway. I told you to meet me here, and you didn't show up. So if I want to bring a couple of wards with me, then you won't complain." Percy sassed back as he grinned his trademark troublemaker smile.
"Oh, I see how it is. But you forget something, Percy. I don't have to tell you anything if I don't want to." She spoke in an equally teasing tone.
"You-you are a child of the forest. I thought your people died out thousands of years ago!" John stammered entirely and utterly astonished while Arya looked dazed as she stared at the ageless adult women she dwarfed.
"Yes, child of ice and fire, I am of those who sing the songs of the earth." Despite her seemingly cheery attitude, Percy could tell something was eating at her. She looked thinner as if she hadn't eaten in days, and her nails had dried blood at the fingertips as if she had been picking at her cuticles.
"Gregaus, tell us what is bothering you, and then stop avoiding the conversation we have been due for the past week," Percy commanded her, not as a lord but as a friend. His voice was softer, but he still broke no argument.
She stared back at him before apparently deciding to tell him her issues. "My people used to be as numerous as the trees and as powerful as the seven kingdoms. However, only a few tribes of us left, and a few of our cousins, the Ifequevron, left in the world. Though not without warrant, I believe fate has frowned upon us by dooming us to destruction."
"That is some loaded horseshit. No one is destined to die, so you will fight the fate you seem to believe your people are destined for." Percy responds with a growl in his voice.
"Due to past mistakes, the gods have abandoned us, and enemies surround my people. All of us but me have been banished to the land beyond the wall to slow the tide of evil that we have unleashed!" She roared back with an anger that almost made up for her short stature.
"I do not care what your gods believe or what 'crime' your people committed. Genocide is never the answer, nor is abandoning their chosen people. I have killed a god for less, so I say fuck fate l let's do our own thing." Percy raged back, his eyes glowing with a vibrant sea green, and the wind began to pick up speed as it ripped through the branches. Suddenly, a sharp, blinding pain overtook his gut, and his skin began to blister. 'Shit, shit not again. I need to calm down' mentally panicked before started to use his breathing exercises. Vaguely, he heard the shouts from the mortals that were around him.
Minutes later, the demigod found himself amongst the moist dirt, with three panicked faces staring back. "Percy, are you alright? What happened"? Arya was scared, and tears began to well up in the corners of her eyes.
"You just fell suddenly! Your skin began to blister, and when I touched you, it burnt me!" John stated as he held up his hand, which had gone red like he had touched hot coals.
"Listen carefully, John and Arya. If I should ever fall like that again, and especially if my skin blisters, you do not touch me." I stressed clearly and obviously, ignoring their underlying questions. Then, to quickly change the topic to a less dangerous direction, I asked, "What did you guys do that caused the gods to be so angry?"
The Child of the Forest, who reminded him of short Nymphs, looked uncomfortable and terrified. "To answer that, we must go back to the past during the first war between our people." A wispy white mist began to form and contort all around them until it perfectly represented a completely different place. The trees were transported into marshland, and the sky turned from the pink of the evening into the night; however, the most noticeable difference was the burning of the trees around them. Then suddenly, wispy figures who clearly were other children of the forest ran into view, trailed by men wielding spears and torches. Despite the children's magic, the first men slaughtered the family of children in front of them. The scene changes constantly with different settings and characters, but each time, it shows the horror of the war. Sometimes, it was a victory for the first men. Other times, it was a victory for the children, but no matter who won, women, children, and the elderly were caught up in the crosshairs. Many times, they were hunted purposefully for no other reason beyond hate.
"The first men drove us out of our homes and land. Killed our people in mass, burned our sacred trees, and even killed our allies." She shows the body of a fallen giant as men celebrate the kill. Still, in the background, Percy can see the crying figure of a clearly significantly smaller giant. "We prayed to our gods for guidance and strength to win the war. On occasion, they would send animals or give our people strength, but they never stopped the slaughter. I, however, am a Greenseer amongst our people, and as such, I can speak to the gods themselves. One day, I began to experiment with blood rituals and bodies, trying to figure out a weapon against our enemy. Then I figured out a way to stop the natural death in a being, but then, for the first time since the war started, the gods showed up. It wasn't to help, for instead, they forbade me from continuing further in my experiments and to not speak of them ever. The gods showed up to hinder our survival, but it did not help. In my anger, I taught my daughter, Oak, the secrets of the undeath."
Percy could see where this story was going, for nothing good comes from mortals playing with things they didn't understand. He let her continue with bated breath, "The gods were angry and punished me and my daughter for our insolence by giving us the gift of immortality, so we are guaranteed to watch the threat we unleashed destroy our people and live on as last of our kind. I, from the forest where I promised the gods never to tell another soul and my daughter from where the last of my people live." The mist surrounding them showed visions of pale white corpses with icy blue, glowing eyes cutting the last of the children of the forest and then shifting to them, sacking city after city.
Arya spoke up next with sadness in her eyes. "How can the gods be so cruel?" '"Oh, sweet innocent child,'" the sea prince thought as he heard Arya's question.
"What exactly do you mean by undeath?" John looked afraid, and Percy could tell he had guessed exactly what Gregaus meant by '"undeath.'"
"My daughter and I created the first White Walker, the creature you call the 'Night King,' to fight against the armies of men. We cursed one of the ancient first men to come back from the grave to be an unstoppable killing machine. Instead of heading our commands, it hunted everything with a pulse. It does not matter if you are a dear bear, wolf, lion, or dragon. The worst part, though, was it discovered the same magic we used to make it and has been amassing an army in the land beyond the wall." At these words, Arya and John went white as death. However, Percy felt cold apathy upon hearing the threat because nothing could surprise him anymore.
"How do you kill one? What are their strengths." Percy asked before Starks could voice their concern.
"They can form wights, mindless reanimated corpses, and have ice blades strong enough to shatter steel. Should you get cut by one, you will start to freeze over. Dragonglass, Valyrian Steal, and for their wights, fire are the only known ways to end the 'others.'"
"I am assuming this is the threat I was sent to stop," Percy asked after a long sigh of acceptance.
"Yes, from what I can tell. I know of no other threat to mine or your people." Gregaus stated.
"Tell your people they are not going to die. I will give them a home in my land, protect them as I do my people, and in exchange, your people will help me build Sea Dragon Point along with helping me fight this, Night King."
"Percy, she said; the gods banished her people to the land beyond the wall and bound her to this forest. How are they to help you?" John pointed out.
"Fuck the gods. I forge my own way." As soon as the sea prince said that, the previously silent forest exploded in noise, and what felt like thousands of angry voices overlapping roared. It was almost overwhelming as the energy he felt near the Weirwood tree back at Winterfell.
"I can't understand you! Speak one at a time or not at all!" He roared back into the forest.
After the voices quieted, one of the faceless gods spoke to the party of four, 'It is their curse, godling. You have no right to take away our justice.'
"This is no justice! Killing a race because you they made a mistake is no action from a just god!" Growled the practically feral demigod.
'Ohh, I like this one's defiance,' stated another god as its voice moved through the trees following the wind.
'It's still insolence. We could punish you for that behavior.'
"You wouldn't dare. You need me, and I have something hanging over your heads."
'You're right. You are safe for now, but that won't change the children's inevitable deaths.'
"Then I won't fight. If I can't be allowed to attempt to save them all, then none of them are getting saved," Percy bluffed.
'You wouldn't abandon your little friends so easily, demigod.'
"Oh? I wouldn't? I have never been able to put down my sword since I first picked it up. I have fought in four wars for you, pieces of shit, and it has left me broken. I have seen people break for far less. Maybe it's my turn."
Silence erupted abruptly throughout the forest for minutes as the gods contemplated Percy's bluff but ultimately decided against calling it. 'We will not free them from punishment, but if you're adamant about saving them, you take responsibility for them. From now on, any Child of the Forest will be allowed south of the wall as long as they are willing to bind their soul to yours. They will be your slaves, little godling.'
Burning erupted through Percy's veins at that declaration, and it took all of Percy's willpower to clamp down on the pain that wanted to scream out from his lips. He started his breathing exercises to control his emotions. Before Percy could answer the gods, Gregaus interrupted and declared, "We accept," sealing her fate forever.
Golden chains inscribed with strange symbols materialized around the Child of the forest's hands, ankles, and neck. 'It is done. The chains are symbols of your imprisonment, and only beings of divine blood, along with the children themselves, can see them.' The presence and voices left just as suddenly as they appeared, leaving the party in shocked silence.
Gregaus looked upon her hands with sadness and remained silent, staring at the symbols of her bondage with disbelief.
'Why did you do that?' I wanted to yell at her, but I knew she likely needed time to adjust to her newfound existence, and it would not be fair to blame her for taking a chance to save her people. With a roar of frustration and pent-up power, I struck the trunk of a great oak tree, shattering its base, and watched it topple over.
Daenerys felt regret for the fight she and Nico got themselves into, especially since in place of Nico's silent presence, she got some guard who appeared to stare off into the distance, not really ever seeing anything. At times, it seriously creeped out the daughter of the dragons, as it was uncanny. She walked through the lavish gardens Illyrio owned when she saw a black blur past her visions. Just out of the corner of her eye, she saw the slightly unusually dark shadows pulse faintly. She walked closer, pretending not to notice the unusual shadows, occasionally stooping down to smell the flowers. Then, without warning, she rushed through the shadows, throwing her only friend off guard and dragging him into the sunlight.
"I'm impressed you could spot me, " he informed her in a guarded, purposefully monotone voice, though she could tell from his eyes that he was genuine.
"I know we fought, but I can't stand you being angry with me. Let's agree to disagree. I can't betray my brother and turn my back on my heritage." Nico's eyes grew icy with anger, though she could tell not with her. She continued nonetheless, "I, however, as a compromise, will not inform Viserys of my first bleeding for a couple more years." This got a reaction from the demigod, but not by much, for he still seemed to want nothing more than to mount her brother's head on a spike.
"I'll agree to your conditions now; however, if he lays a finger on you, then he loses his hands. You understand?" Nico spoke about maiming her brother so casually that it should have unsettled her. Instead, it brought a wave of unexpected relief to her. She knew he would carry out his threat, and her brother knew it, too. While Nico was here, her brother refused to be in the same room as she was, and the dragon hadn't 'woken' since Nico's arrival.
Unbeknownst to either the demigod or princess, a figure wreathed in shadows watched the two, verbally sparring with a face of contempt.
In his study, Roose Bolton looked into the fire, watching the flames dance with a soft orange light. His underestimating the demigod's abilities ruined his plans for the demigod and the Starks. He cannot allow such a mistake to be made again, though luck was on his side. Even if Starks manages to weasel the information on who hired the hit on their heads, they will have no hard proof the Bolton house did anything. Ned Stark is an honorable man and intelligent man who would see that if he made claims about another ancient house's betrayal, he would have to back up his story with evidence. Roose was no fool, however, for he knew that Eddard's claims would be believed by all the other Northern lords, and the only thing that is likely preventing his house from fighting a war on all sides is his 'friendship' with the Lannister's and Frey's.
'You failed in your task to kill the son of the sea, and I have no use for defective allies.' The ice-cold rat looked up at him with malice as pieces of flesh clung to the rat loosely. A trick of the light caused the burning, angry flames to almost jump at the rat.
'You may still be of some use to me. I want you to get close to the Starks and earn their secrets and trust.'
"They are suspicious of me and likely believe me to be the culprit of the attempt on their lives…" Before the lord of the Dreadfort could say more, a loud thump sounded from the hall. As quick as a lion, he grabbed the rat, stuffed it in his desk drawer, and locked it.
"Who's there?" Roose asked as he reached for his sword by his desk. But before he even reached halfway, the door slammed open, revealing the attacker.