AN: Several reviews compared this power system to Worm. I have not read or seen Worm, but I may now.
To answer some questions about it, powers can improve, but not too drastically, a full letter would be the max improvement possible.
Also, one review brought up if they had the word Gravity in the middle ages. Just assume they are using the common tongue equivalents of those words. I actually make a joke about this in Sandor's POV.
Another brought up Aemon's power being called Psychometry. I knew the power from Heroes, and it was called Clairsentience. But either work. Those power names are more for us reading than in-universe, so it likely will not be brought up.
Alright, Let us get right into it.
OLDTOWN- THE CITADEL
MARWYN
"Another enhanced strength." Pate the Novice read off of the paper detailing a random Small-folk's newly given abilities.
"Put it in the pile like the rest." Marwyn said as he read about a bastard of a knight who could see the memories of those they touch. "What about you Qyburn?"
His fellow Maester looked up from his own paper. "A man who can make another of himself, though according to him, he can only make one and it is difficult to move. He also has a slight increase in strength as well. Which pile shall I put him in?"
"Sounds like the replica is more prominent than the strength. Put it in the pile of people who can create objects out of the air." Marwyn said after a moment.
This has been what life in the Citadel has become. After the initial panic, which caused too many deaths in riots and chaos, people began to calm down and slowly understand their new abilities. The Citadel had turned the study of these abilities into the newest field, and every Maester or novice was tasked with speaking to the people of Oldtown and recording who had what ability.
Unfortunately, they were hampered by just the sheer numbers. At first, the Maesters took detailed reports of themselves, as they were already all together. But over the weeks since powers appeared, many students left. They were the ones who were forced to come here. Either the ones whose warrior fathers were disappointed in, or the ones who had too many older siblings. When they left, likely to try to use their powers against their families, that further reduced the number of Maesters, which further slowed them down.
There was also the myriad of duties Maesters needed to attend to in the first place. As such, after the initial panic, most Maesters worked on researching powers on a rotation. Only Marwyn and Qyburn were willing to put aside their other research in order to cover it fully. They had help from the novices, but it paled to what the full Maesters could do.
'Good riddance I say.' Marwyn thought. He figured if they got too involved, they would find a way to stop it and make everyone forget the powers ever existed. It was obvious that they had done so to the dragons already. He was going to learn the truth, even if he had to do it alone.
"So, adding all the lesser enhancement abilities as well, I think it is safe to say that is the most common ability." Another novice, Alleras, said as they put yet another paper detailing such an ability in the same pile.
"I do not think there is much doubt about that." Marwyn admitted as he looked at the different piles.
The Enhancement pile was the largest pile, with several stacks of papers in the same area. That dealt with abilities that were present before, but that got a significant increase afterwards.
Next in size, was the manipulation pile. These were the ones capable of controlling objects that already existed. Moving them with their mind or a few hand motions was the most common. But it also had people control rocks or water, or even air itself.
Then there was the pile for creating. One merchant could make replicas of his own wares, and there was currently a debate among other merchants on if the replica products had the same value. There were also those who could create fire and then manipulate it. Or the aforementioned replica person.
There was another pile for altering one's own body, such as the King's ability to lose his fat that they had been informed of along with Pycelle's death. Abilities that gave people wings or tails were also here. There was one woman whose arm could turn silver.
From there on, there were smaller piles started whenever a pattern was noticed, but there were dozens of those that numbered only a handful of pages.
Even after Oldtown was fully catalogued, there was still the rest of the Seven Kingdoms and beyond.
The thought of that put a smile on Marwyn's face as he kept reading.
KING'S LANDING- RED KEEP
JAIME
It felt strange to be guarding the king without wearing armor. But if he wanted to control his abilities, he needed to get used to it.
After he ran into the wall when powers first showed up, he had been training less with a sword and more on his own abilities.
Sometimes it got boring and Jaime just felt the need to move. One moment he would be talking to someone like normal, then the next their voice would slow down and Jaime could see in great detail every small movement their mouth made. Other times he would be speaking and people looked at him as he apparently started speaking too fast for them to comprehend.
It was hard to get an idea of just how fast he was. Both the Keep itself and the capital were too small and crowded to get an idea of just what his maximum speed was. The terrain was of no use either. He had tried running along the road leading to Rosby, and he had gotten there only to collapse from the distance. However much his speed, it was apparent that his stamina had not been increased by the same amount. Lord Rosby was confused why he was there, but offered him some food and a horse, the latter of which Jaime refused. He ran back an hour after arriving, and there was Ser Barristan. Taking the time inside Rosby out of the total, he had run there and back in about half an hour.
Then there were his other abilities.
While healing quicker was useful, he was lucky the other did not first appear in the training ground, else he may have died. But later that night, as Blount was having dinner in the White Sword Tower, his knife had flown out of his hand and hit Jaime in the head-the dull end, fortunately- followed by all the metal in the room shaking slightly as Jaime got closer to it.
And so here he was, not wearing heavy armor, and standing outside Robert's bedroom as the king prepared for the day.
Robert did seem to improve in terms of character. The return to how he looked when he won the throne seemed to have reawakened his spirit.
Everyone had changed to some extent, and they were still trying to figure them all out. Cersei had the most minor changes in abilities, but those appeared to affect her greatly.
For one, her youth had returned. She was always beautiful, but Jaime would not deny that age and life had taken a toll on her. He figured the same was true for him, but it was more noticeable for a woman who had gone through childbirth three times. Now, she looked like she was ten and eight again.
Her other power though, that was tricky. Being unable to enjoy either the taste or the freedom of wine seemed a hard price for his sister. Drink did nothing for her, no matter how much she poured down her throat.
With any luck, they would adapt and return to some semblance of normality. Until then, they could only do what they could.
Robert opened the door, and ran down the hall in his thinner form, ready for a day in the training yard again. Jaime easily kept up with him.
FLEA BOTTOM
SANDOR CLEGANE
These new powers made people very arrogant in their own strengths, but one look at the Hound reminded them all that death was still possible.
Or at least, one of his powers reminded anyone who looked at him of that fact.
Unlike many of these people who brag or show off their one great ability- The king and his strength, the Kingslayer and his speed- Sandor possessed no singularly strong power, but rather multiple weaker ones.
They came in handy enough for his life. He no longer felt pain from his scars, though they in no way were healed. Other minor injuries were also unnoticeable to him. He also never got drunk now, and unlike the Queen, he could still enjoy the taste of it. Meaning he never had to stop until he had his fill. He also had no need for food to keep his strength up, though he was warned by Pycelle's assistant-who took over until a new graybeard could come from Oldtown-that it may be best not to see if that meant he never needed to eat at all.
And then there was the power he was currently using. Anyone who looked at him instantly paled and made moves to avoid him.
Without it, Sandor doubted he would be in danger, but the boy would do something stupid enough to get himself killed.
Joffrey at least had the smarts to put on a cloak over his expensive clothing in order to not draw attention to himself.
Sandor had no idea what the Prince wanted to do in Flea Bottom. He was paid to guard him, not talk him out of things.
After the powers had appeared, Joffrey whined constantly about himself not having any. Then suddenly he stopped. He began questioning servants about what powers they had. He asked about the people in the rest of the city as well. And now they were here.
"There." Joffrey said, pointing at one man.
The man was nothing special. Average height, dark hair with a bit of a beard. He did look familiar somehow, but Sandor could not place it.
Like the idiot he was, the Prince walked right up to him. "You. Look at me."
The man did so, and looked as though he was reaching for a dagger under his cloak. "What do you want?"
Sandor quickly followed Joffrey, using his power to keep the man from pulling the dagger out. The man backed away at the sight of the Hound. A look of realization on his face.
Joffrey grinned. "This house right here is empty I believe? Let us go inside."
The house he pointed to had several holes in the ceiling and was obviously abandoned. There were very few people on the streets already, but it would do for a short exchange in private.
The man nodded, and entered first.
Once inside, Joffrey removed his cloak, showing his clothes more expensive than the man's entire life's earnings.
"I am sure you recognize The Hound. Which means you must recognize me as well, right Humfrey Waters?" Joffrey asked the man.
"Aye, Your Grace. My apologies, I never thought you would come down here. Commander Slynt usually is the only one to ever deal regularly with your family and the lords." The now named Humfrey spoke.
The mention of Slynt made Sandor realize who he was. A Gold Cloak. Likely not a very good one, if he was living in Flea Bottom. He probably got bribed just as much as the ones in the Red Keep, just in smaller amounts.
"Ah, but you see, you are the reason I wanted to come down here. I have heard about you, and could not understand why someone with such an amazing ability was not rising through the ranks." Joffrey said.
Sandor had to admit it, while most people in the Red Keep were able to see through the little Shit's words, he had a skill for using them on the more optimistic idiots.
"Thank you, Your Grace." Humfrey said. "The powers are still new, but I am sure I will be up there one day. I am glad someone like you believes in me."
"Yes. But I was also wondering, would you mind showing me just what it looks like? I admit I have been curious since I heard about it." Joffrey asked.
"Of course, Your Grace." Humfrey said quickly, he looked around, and saw a broken piece of the wall, and pulled off a piece of it.
He placed it on a table that was so unstable, Sandor thought the rock may be too much for it to support. Humfrey then walked a few steps back and pointed the palm of his hand at the rock.
He took a deep breath, then suddenly the rock was a puddle.
Joffrey got closer to it. "Amazing. Is it safe to touch?"
"Yes, Your Grace. I don't melt it, like I've seen Blacksmiths do to make swords. I just... turn them into liquids."
"Liquids? No offense, I just did not think you knew the word." Joffrey noted as he touched it. Some dripped off his fingers, but nothing else happened. "Cool to the touch." He noted
"My brother tried to be a Maester. Taught us all kinds of words." Humfrey explained.
"Does it work on people?" Joffrey asked.
"Haven't tried it on any of them. I have on rats though. Works on them just fine." Humfrey explained, very open about his power to the young Prince.
"Interesting. What does it feel like?" Joffrey asked as he got closer to the Gold Cloak.
"Well, it's not really all that hard. I just focus on an object, and point my palm at it. Then I just let it flow out. Pardon the language Your Grace, but it's just like when you finally get to piss after holding it in." Humfrey explained.
Suddenly, Joffrey's arm was on Humfrey's arm, and it glowed a golden light. Humfrey let out a scream of sudden pain before dropping to his knees, his head hitting the ground while Joffrey still held onto his arm.
Sandor watched as Joffrey let go of the man's arm. He pointed his palm at the table itself, and suddenly it was itself a puddle. The rock's puddle mixing in with the wood's.
"Yes. I see what you mean. This is a very good power." Joffrey said with a laugh.
Humfrey raised his arm towards the Prince, only for Sandor to get between them.
But nothing happened. Humfrey stared at his palm, but his power refused to work.
"Did you just try to kill me?" Joffrey yelled. His kind persona vanished as the true face filled with envy and anger appeared in its place. He raised his own hand.
Humfrey's eyes opened wide. "No. Please Your-"
Joffrey turned the man into a puddle.
Unlike the wood or the rock, this puddle had several colors. Sandor could see the liquid skin and blood, but he also spotted some white in it that could have been bone. Other colors were present, but Sandor turned his attention back to the Prince.
Joffrey let out another laugh. Sandor stared at the boy. He was supposed to guard him, but if Joffrey moved to kill him, Sandor would take him out first.
"Well then Hound, I do believe this trip was very successful. Allow me to get the door." He spoke as he pointed his palm at the door they had come through.
It stayed in the shape of a door.
Joffrey looked at his palm, and pointed it at the door again. Still no change occurred.
"No. No it can't be. After all that? DAMN IT." The Prince yelled in anger.
Sandor realized just how dangerous Joffrey had become. He was still the spoiled arrogant baby he had always been, but now the little Shit finally had a power of his own, and if the only price he had to pay was keeping people alive so he could torture them, he would be a very dangerous king.
So be it then. If being on Joffrey's good side meant he could have him take away GREGOR'S powers, Sandor didn't give a fuck about the rest of the kingdoms.
"Come, Your Grace. We should get back to the Red Keep, before your Mother wonders where you are." He said to Joffrey.
BEYOND THE WALL- THENN
STYR THENN
They had appeared from northwest of the valley. The only warning they had was the animal's starting to panic the night before. They spent so long trying to keep them under control that by the time of the attack, most of them were either still tired or asleep. Perhaps that is why they were having such a hard time despite their new powers.
All around Styr, he saw his people fighting against the dead and their blue eyes.
The Thenns were like most Free Folk in how they handled their dead. They burned them as soon as possible. But sometimes people disappeared on hunting trips. Or if they were raided by another clan, they would not have enough supplies to spare on fires that would not burn for the full night. Then they left the corpses to the beasts.
But now, all those unburned dead were here.
He saw Errok get torn apart as he went to pull his broken sword out of one of their stomachs.
He saw light erupt from Quenn's eyes and hit the ones in front of him, but he could do nothing about the dead behind him as they pushed him on his stomach and kept his head down.
This was a losing battle. They had a surge of strength after realizing they were being attacked, but that was starting to fade as their numbers slowly decreased while the enemy seemed to keep increasing.
One Wight finally noticed Sytr standing and charged at him, but a ball of fire shot forth from his right hand quickly brought it down.
He threw another from his left, this time aiming at the ones about to overwhelm Sigorn. His son managed to finish the rest off and moved to cover the retreating tribesmen who finally broke through the circle of Wights.
Styr threw more fire at every decaying corpse that he saw move. He even threw it on those who had just died or even those still breathing but unable to move. He figured it was preferable to what other fate awaited them.
Without ways to regain their numbers, the Wights appeared to be thinning. Knowing he was surrounded, Styr kept his back ablaze, hot enough that any that approached from behind were burned before they got too close. From what he had seen, the Wights instantly weakened once near fire. It was this fact that was responsible for why he survived so long.
He saw Quenn get back up, his eyes turned blue. Styr panicked, immediately realizing that Quenn could hit him with light from his eyes from afar.
But the strike never came.
Quenn just kept looking at him, almost as if his power refused to work.
Looking in the crowd of Wights. Styr realized none of the new ones were using their powers. Or rather, they can not.
But that moment of realization was a mistake. It distracted Styr long enough for him to get tackled off his feet. He immediately summoned as much fire as he could throughout his body, burning the Wight responsible to ash.
Focusing on getting up, Styr found himself in the air, pushed upward by his flames.
'This is new.' The Thenn lord thought as he used the opportunity to try to put distance between him and the Wights.
He looked down at them, only to dodge as a spear made of ice flew past him, barely missing.
Looking down, he saw the one responsible. Even from so far and covered in flames, he felt the air almost freeze.
The horse he rode was missing its head, yet it still galloped along, no issue in the snow. On its back was a man shaped piece of ice. His skin was as pale as milk, and blue veins appeared all over his body. On his body was some kind of armor, but it melted into the snow around him too well for Styr to make it out well enough.
The only thing remotely human was his face and hair, which had white lines throughout it but had patches of dark hair breaking up the white. It was a face Styr recognized.
It had been thirty years since they had seen each other, but it was the face of Craster, younger than he should be if what others said about him still being alive and fucking his daughters was true.
Unable to stay concentrated on moving through the air, Styr found himself falling towards the ground. He could not keep himself in the air, but he did manage to aim at a pile of snow. He hit it, but was still thrown further, until he hit a tree. He could have sworn he heard a crack come from his ribs.
He was about half a mile from where the battle had started, and he could already see Wights in the distance running towards him.
Styr tried to stand, but the pain in his chest brought him only to his knee. He pushed his back against the tree, and used it to slide himself on to his feet.
As the wights approached, styr threw fire at each one. They were all coming from in front of him, though he did make sure to keep checking behind him to make sure none surprised him.
Eventually, the Wights began to hold back, standing just outside the range he could throw. Behind them, he saw the leader. The Other, for that was the only thing it could be.
It held back, almost as if observing Styr.
Even knowing it would not reach, Styr threw fire at the Other, only to watch as it died in the air when it got close to the Other.
The Ice monster raised another spear, aiming right for Styr. The Thenn lord knew what was about to happen, even if there was nothing that could be done but go along with the Other's plan.
The Other threw the spear, ripping through the tree Styr just pushed himself off of in the nick of time.
Now he was on his hands and knees, and the Wights charged at him in a mob.
Styr tried to focus on what he had just accomplished. Focusing the fire on his feet, he let out two bursts of flame and was flying straight at the Other on his dead horse. They collided and were both thrown onto the ground, with Styr's hands around the Other's neck.
He changed from pushing his flames out of his feet to his hands, but they were already numb and frostbitten the moment they made contact. A pain erupted from Styr's stomach, and a brief glimpse revealed the source to be a dagger made of ice. Styr could feel himself grow colder.
Rather than withdraw in pain, Styr instead embraced it. The heat was being pushed out of his body, but he could still control where it left. And now he had no reason not to go as far as possible.
His hands finally erupted with the light of fire. Hotter than the other flames he had made, yet they were barely enough to keep the cold away in comparison.
The Other shrieked at the heat. So close to it, Styr's ears bled, and then there was silence. He was now deaf, but as he had already consigned himself to dying, it mattered not to the Magnar of the Thenns.
He let out a silent scream, and watched as the fire melted the Other's skin.
He felt a shattering as the Other's neck collapsed under his grip. The rest of the demon's body began to shatter or burn seconds later.
The Wights who moments ago were rushing to rescue their lord fell to the ground just a few feet short of where Styr laid.
As Styr stared at the remains of the monster he killed, he found his body collapsing on top of it. With the last of his strength, he summoned forth a small spark inside himself, where the wind would be unable to extinguish it before it completely burned his body. With that last act, his mind faded into darkness.
And so, the first major battle between Man and the Others ended in a draw.
AN: Hope you all enjoyed this chapter.
Marwyn and the Citadel are working to catalogue all the different powers and look for patterns. Qyburn has yet to be expelled, so he is still around.
Jaime gives a rundown of KL life, and we hear about Cersei's powers.
The Hound shows us Joffrey's even as he fails in what he hoped to gain. And if he can use Joffrey against the Mountain, he doesn't care what he has to protect Joffrey from.
And finally, the Others suffer a loss, but the only one aware is killed as well.
I was debating between using the Show's WW, or the Others of the book, as the art on the wiki shows they have different designs. So, I have come up with an idea of my own.
The book's Others, shall be the pure ones. The ones that were Others before the First Men came to Westeros. The ones who resemble the Show shall be the ones Craster gave to be turned. I figure it would also take a while for them to fully turn, even if they start as babes, so I tried to give it more humanistic characteristics. They are considered Others, but essentially the lowest ranked. Barely above Wights themselves.
Now then, onto powers.
In addition to Jaime's speed that was previously shown, we also see him have a minor case of Metal Manipulation, ranked at C. He could not lift a man wearing armor, but he can change the swing of a sword to miss him. Basically magnetism, but covers more metals. This power originated from his line in the show about how swords always seem to miss him.
Cersei has been given a resistance to alcohol, rank B. She can neither taste it nor get drunk, She also has regained some youth, ranked C-. She essentially looks like she did when she first became queen.
Sandor, we see, has lost the ability to feel pain, itself a D ranked ability, he would feel a stab or a hit to the head, but minor or recurring pain is basically gone. He can also instill fear in those nearby, which helps when he is guarding Joffrey in this chapter. This is Intimidation ranked B-. He also has Clear Mind C which is like Cersei's but includes medicine that would mess with his mind and he can still taste it. He also does not lose stamina or strength when hungry, but does need to eat. This is ranked D+. He has others as well. Sandor actually has the most abilities of all the characters I have outlined, but none of them are as individually strong or versatile as other's powers.
Joffrey has Power Theft. Ranked A-. He can steal the powers of others, and they lose them. But like Jon, he can only do one at a time, If he takes a second person's powers, the owner of the first set regains them. But unlike Jon, he does not lose any strength when he does so. If the person he stole from dies, he loses them. As seen here.
Humfrey had Liquidation (B+). As he stated, he turns whatever he points his palm at into a liquid, but it does not heat up. I likely will not be doing any more dead people's powers unless significant or unique.
Finally, we have Styr. He had Rank B+/A- Pyrokinesis, including the ability to use it to fly, but he just discovered that and was not very good at controlling it. But it was enough to overwhelm the Other's inherent Fire Dampening. That final flame that killed the other would be roughly 2000 Degrees Fahrenheit, but was reduced to about 1500.
Hope you all enjoyed this chapter.
Next up, we see Winterfell and then return to Dragonstone for Stannis and Co. We will also get to see some of the Targaryean family and a certain exiled Kraken. And possibly a few non-exiled Krakens.