Rhaegar I

This was the forest north of the north. The haunted oaks and pines that he had read of so long, that would be where the great frost and great terror would descend down from. This place, where all the terrors that haunted his nights stalked, gleaming out from the shadows of the wood, and into the souls of mere mortal men. He did not feel welcome here, no, he knew that he was a trespasser in lands that were not his own, in places that a man such as he was never to see.

Which was why he, Rhaegar Taragyen, was so infuriated he had been given the duty of watching over this girl.

"Lady Fujimaru," his groan as low as he could manage, as he watched the young red haired girl confidently stride past these long dead trees, "Must you insist on moving about this place so glibly?" the girl didn't even turn her head at his question, simply enjoying her evening stroll, "This place is not one for anyone to walk alone, let alone a girl such as yourself," she was still silent, and he added, "I may be strong, but if the legends you say are true, then this place-"

"Eh," the girl waved her hand back toward him, the bulky black coat around her nearly consuming her arm as she did so, "Don't worry about it, Lancer."

Lancer. Was that Rhaegar's new name. Or merely a title. He couldn't say, though instinctively he knew it referred to him to his core. Compared to the names of his family still in the Frost Fangs, he thought "Lancer" described him the best. He certainly did not think of himself as worth of the title of "Saber", and he denied any accusation of being a "Berserker". But "Lancer" fit him well. It had always been the weapon he'd been best with, one had to wonder if-

"Oh, Oh!" this young girl laughed, suddenly running up to a nearby tree, and laying her back against one, "I think we got some company over in the next valley," she waved her hand towards a tree next to hers one that would give him a view down this hill. He sighed as he slipped up to the tree, and rested himself against it.

'One has to wonder why I was chosen to watch her as she sneaks about,' he thought as he watched her lean down and carefully gaze down to the little gully, 'Surely 'Assassin' would be a better choice for this,' he then stopped, and added, 'Either of them, really.'

"Ah man," he heard the girl whine, "This kind of sucks, I thought we were going to see the Prologue," she turned back to him, "But these aren't Nightswatch. Their just some of Mance's wildings."

'Nightswatch,' Rhaegar considered. The group who defended all of Westeros from the terrors in the far North. They manned the Wall, one fo the oldest and largest feats of man kind in the world, the equal to the Great Bastions of Yi Ti. When he had been alive, he had thought about coming to visit it one day, but had never had the chance, 'Why would she-'

"Probably a few days too late, now that I think about it," Lady Fujimaru rubbed her chin, "They probably ran into the White Walker while the summoning ritual was being prepared," she almost brought her hands together in a clap, a habit he'd already gotten she did, but she stopped herself, and then brought her hands to the tree, "That means that last one is probably about to get caught by Ned now-"

Ned.

There was only one person of sufficient rank of that name that Rhaegar knew of. One man who she could possibly be referring to. One of the victims of his folly and his father's madness, and one of the men who had conquered him at the Trident. Eddard Stark, Lord of Winterfell. Lyanna had always called him Ned, though.

'And so does this girl,' he wondered, as he watched her adjust her cloak, bringing down the front of the hood over her face, and doing her best to throw the edges of the cloak out in as wide a manner as possible, 'What magics let you know so much, and how do you know of Ned Stark?'

"Might be best to scare these ones off, don't know how many of those Ice Demons are out there, and we don't want them getting too big for their britches just yet," he watched as she finished covering herself in the whole cloak, and even Rhaegar could see she looked like a shade, "We're not monsters, ya know?"

"But aren't you dressing up as a-"

"Details," she said quickly. She held out her left hand, and suddenly, strong, cutting lines of green light slice over her skin. The light then exploded for a moment, and Rhaegar found himself lamenting that he did not look away as he might once have, but instead was able to stare through it, until he saw that the hand had lost all of its flesh.

"There we go," in the background, noises came from down in the gully, as the flash of light was too bright for it to be ignored by these wildlings, "Now then," she threw her arms out as a mummer might, "To my stage."

And then she stepped out, and Rhaegar was impressed with how her movements had almost instantly transformed. Where before there, was a manic purpose to every movement, she seemed to glide about. The cloak billowed around her, mostly covering her hands, though at times the tips of skeletal fingers appeared from the ends of the sleeves. He looked down, and saw what looked like a party of a dozen Wildings falling back in horror at the sudden appearance of this apparition. Only one had a weapon drawn, and none were anything more than a wooden spear or a sword made of pig iron. These were not adversaries to fear…as long as Lady Fujimaru allowed him to place himself between her and them. Which she wasn't.

"Yo ho ho ho," and whatever else you could say for the girl, she could draw out her voice to mimic the damned, "Yo ho ho ho !" she took a step forward, and Rhaegar could see a pointy, bony chin sticking out for all to see, "Yo ho ho ho-"

A spear swished by the cloak. Rhaegar nearly made to stand up and come to defend her, but he watched a skeletal hand stick out towards him, telling him stand back.

"Yo ho ho ho," as she continued to sway in the air, sounds of terror growing louder and louder as she descended the hill, "Don to icchou utao," she was singing in some strange language, that he could not quite understand, "Unaba no Uta," her arms formed a way, before they reached up to her hood, "Don to icchou Utao!" and she then pulled the hood back, revealing a skull only partially covered in dried and stretched skin, "Itsuka wa hone yo!"

'She does not have a good voice.'

The scream from the wildings cut her and his thoughts off. Immediately, he heard the sound of men sprinting away, running as fast as they could from this wretched spirit. For a few moments, he waited, just to continue to allow her to have her fun, before he sighed, and then asked aloud, "Are they all gone now?", while wondering why she would try to make such a jolly song about bones. Such things called for melancholy in his expertise.

"Yes," Lady Fujimaru said, let out a chuckle, "They were all moving together, and in such numbers that they should probably get to rest of Mance's group before anything happens to them," the illusion of her skeletal body was disappearing, as the muscle and skin had returned. Then, a smirk on her face, she turned, and wagged her finger, "So, made sure no people came inside our perimeter, kept the White Walkers from adding some more zombies to their horde, and got a bit of a fun workout," she then brought her hands behind her head, "Sounds like a good old fashioned evening stroll, wouldn't you say Lancer."

"Yes, Lady Fujimaru," he sighed. She had nearly gotten herself killed, or at least seemed to. Part of him felt as though there hadn't been anything to worry about, that she could manage herself. But the other part saw a young woman exposing herself dangerously for a frivolous romp. It tried his patience, "Lady Fujimaru, do you not think-"

"That we should go make sure that the rest of the forest is clear of these things," she said immediately, cutting him off, and leaving him just staring at the young woman, "Exactly my thought process, Lancer."

"That wasn't what I meant, Lady Fujimaru," but even after only two days, he knew that his protests would fall on deaf ears. Lady Fujimaru had decided that she was going to continue this walk, and by some design he was compelled to follow her. He could only sigh, and then follow her with a comparable pace. It was surprising how difficult he found it considering how much longer his legs were than hers.

As they went on, Rhaegar kept his eyes to the mountain they had descended before this walk. He knew that the others were staying there, and that hopefully one of them would arrive and bring a request for them to return. It was all he could probably hope for, considering just how this girl insisted that that they should keep going. And yet, more time passed, alongside the trees, as the mountain fell further and further into the distance, the two of them moving East.

'What could she be looking for,' he wondered. She had only said to be coming for a stroll, but this clearly wasn't just a mere walk. They had gone miles, and it would be miles more for them to return to the mountain. True, this new life seemed to allow Rhaegar the ability to go great distances quickly, and he did not doubt he could carry her with great speed. But the whole set of travels did not fit the description of their journey. She was looking for something, but Rhaegar just couldn't understand what. And as they seemed to approach a river, it seemed as though her pace increased, like she was getting closer to her destination.

And, as a bird's wings sounded in the distance, Rhaegar realized that he would not discover that tonight.

'Thank the gods old and new,' he thought to himself as a black bird passed by his head, then Lady Fujimaru, and then swung up to a nearby branch, landed, and turned back toward them. Three black eyes shone through the darkness around them. All three locked onto Lady Fujimaru, and the bird then opened its beak.

"You must return to Napastor," the voice of Archer called from inside the crow. His voice was old, worn down by the secrets and the lies he had told throughout his life, and every word tinged with the wretched knowledge he had accumulated over the generations. As Lady Fujimaru stared up at it, Archer added, "Lord Onos has said that you must only go so far. Any further, and the rest of your servants might not be able to arrive in time to support Lancer should any danger arise."

"I think I ca-"

"No you cannot," the crow cut off Lady Fujimaru, who crossed her arms and continued to glare upward, "Lancer, it is your duty to return Master to her rightful place," and Rhaegar winced at the term, "If she should resist, you must return her by force," and then, the bird flapped its wings, and lifted itself into the air, giving one final warning, "Return now, or I would have to send a message to Lord Onos," and then it flew off, back toward their camp.

Napaston, the home of traitors.

"Ah well," the read haired girl snapped her finger, "Almost made it this time, but hey, at least we got to have some fun," she crossed her arms, and glared back up at the mountain, "Really though, some of you guys make really uppity servants," she groaned, before then suddenly chuckling, and walking over toward Rhaegar, hands outstretched, "Though maybe it just comes from being such a lax master, huh?"

'Servants,' Rhaegar considered, 'Master.'

"Lancer," the girl continued to hold out her arms, and Rhaegar could only sigh. Quickly, he swept her up in his arms, and began to run toward the camp. To keep a fair pace, it might be an hour to cover the miles they had gone over the earlier part of the night, at least without causing any undue attention to be brought on them. That had certainly been one of Onos's orders, though he personally would say it was one that Lady Fujimaru had almost no patience for. During the run, the girl would shout and laugh, declaring this a wonderful ride.

Yet, he could only think on those terms. Servant and Master. And how they now defined what he was, more than Prince, Knight or even father in his first life.

He could not say he felt comfort in this new title.

"Good work on that running, Lancer," Lady Fujimaru declared as she stepped down into their camp. As Rhaegar had guessed, it had taken nearly an hour for them to arrive, but they had still returned before the sun rose. That would keep their movements a secret to the things that lurked in the forest beneath their camp. At least, he hoped they were, they had been moving so quickly he was not able to see much to his sides, "Really good pace, excellent strides-"

"You are welcome Lady Fujimaru," he bowed his head, and she laughed, before waving him off. He could only sigh, watching her walk up the incline, towards the camp itself. He vaguely looked back, and saw the great stone mound rising out of the forest like a fist, before shaking his head, and following. She was headed towards her room, ready to take a rest even if she was seeking to hide her own exhaustion from the world.

The camp itself was around a half dozen small buildings, the largest of which was the only one with more than one story. That was the only one made of stone, and it was the one with both Lady Fujimaru's room as well as the quarters of the witch who would play with fire. The other rooms were mostly made of wood, though there was animal hide over a few less complete parts as well. Those were for storing supplies, weapons, and, as he had found out, where any of Lady Fujimaru's servants would stay whenever they were not fulfilling some task. Rhaegar did not care for these quarters, they were dank and cold, and the wind often flowed through them like water through a stream.

Yet, they were not necessary. He stared down at his bare hand, out in the cold night, and marveled at how despite how he could feel the frigid air…it did not affect him in the slightest. Neither did the great distance he had just traveled while moving at a speed that would have matched that of a horse. He felt the need for neither food nor sleep, and from simple movements of his body, could see that he was far stronger now than he had ever been before. Thin beds, moth devoured covers and ruinous quarters meant nothing to him.

This was what it meant to be a servant. To no longer be a man of flesh and bone, but instead something more. Something that he could have only imagined in the books he read.

"Yaaagh!"

'And that was not all they meant,' he thought, as he looked deeper into the camp, towards the circle where he and the other servants had been resurrected. He reached out, and tapped Lady Fujimaru on the shoulder.

"I heard them," the carefreeness had left her voice. She was only a few meters away from her quarters, but clearly now, she would have to do some work before finishing up for the night. She growled for a moment, before turning on her heel, and heading towards the circle in the middle of camp. All the while, Rhaegar could hear the shouts coming from the fight.

There came a sound of stone hitting stone, and Rhaegar could only wince at the thought of what damage his fellow servants had inflicted on the camp. then came the sound of wood crashing down to the ground, and also the sound of shattered glass. Rhaegar saw Lady Fujimaru's posture stiffen further, and her mouth grow thinner.

They finally crested the hill, and stared down into the circle, where the two servants that they had left for the evening were. One was tall, with long, flowing black hair cascading down his armor made of gold, swinging wildly as he charged back and forth along the small valley. The other was shorter and thinner, with matted white hair matching his pale dead skin, constantly lunging and jumping out of the way of the strikes. The purple eyes of the swordsman were affixed to his target, a constant yell sounding throughout the night. A single red eye observed the attacks, its crimson matching the raven that marred the albino's cheek.

These servants, clear opposites, were half-brothers, bastards of Aegon IV, worst king of Westeros. Bryden Rivers chased by Aegor Rivers. The short chased by the tall. White by dark. Clever by stubborn. Blackwood by Bracken.

Archer by Berserker.

"Always running," Berserker cried, taking another great swing, sending rocks flying into the sky as his blade once again landed without meeting his query, "Ever since I took that eye of yours you've been running. Now stand here like the man you claim to be, and take this death!" he swung again, though again missing. It was not that he was not swift, most mortal men would have been unable to match even the slowest of the swings he threw during this chase. No, it was rather that despite his skill and his tenacity, his prey simply knew on instinct where his enemy would attempt to strike, and knew to jump away and to where, denying the Bracken his chance.

"You're swings are still too wide," Bloodraven fired back, the Archer his bow drawn in his hands, "You truly have learned nothing from your failures, have you Bittersteel," three quick strikes, followed by three quick dodges, "Your rage fits your sigil, a dumb bucking idiot with more flame in its blood than sense," again, the Archer dodged, and then disappeared.

Rhaeger's eyes immediately searched the sky, and then locked when he saw a black birdsoaring overhead. A second later, Bloodraven returned, arrow notched, which he let loose. The arrow was almost too fast for the eye to follow, but somehow, despite his size, Berserker was faster, twisting his head so the arrow passed right where his neck had once been.

"Dumb bucking idiot," the large man growled, before reaching down, and lunged as a panther upward, sword above his head to bring down on his great rival. He was above the Blackwood in a moment, and he swung his sword.

WHOOSH

Only for Archer to disappear into his crow form once more, his wings carrying him away from the stronger servant. Bittersteel growled before falling to the ground, landing in a roll, and coming up sword in hand. The three-eyed bird landed on what had once been the platform the Red Witch had stood on on the night of their summoning, now nothing more than a pile of broken timber. Then, he transformed back into Bloodraven, a nother arrow appearing in his hand.

This, this was the other part of being a servant. That he now stood in the presence of men that he had only read about before in books. These two had been among the defining men of the first half of the third century after the Conquest. Their rivalry had been the stuff of songs, several of which he'd performed, one of which he had written. To stand here, before them, and watch them duel even in this manner was to look and see history before him. To know he had been summoned in the same ritual, to be considered the same as these legends of his family…

"ALRIGHT!" suddenly, Lady Fujimaru distracted him from his musings, "THAT'S ENOUGH OF THIS BULLSHIT!"

At that order of their Master, neither stopped. Bloodraven set loose another arrow, which Bittersteel knocked away with his sword. Then Bittersteel charged again, and once again Bloodraven dodged away. Perhaps it was simply because to stop would mean the other would gain the advantage, perhaps it was because both were simply too obsessed with the other, "ARCHER!" Bloodraven continued to slide out of the way, a clearly snide remark slipping out once again, "BERSERKER!" and still, the Bracken pursued.

Finally, tired of them ignoring her, Lady Fujimaru groaned, and then reached out to the edge of her cloak, and grab at the sleeve. A second later, the sleeve rolled back, revealing a long line of red markings covering the arm. She raised it up, and two of the symbols began to glow. As those symbols glowed, one shaped as an arrow and the other shaped as a bull, both of the combatants became covered in a glowing red energy. They finally stopped, and turned their eyes to their Master. Before they could say anything, however, Lady Fujimaru let them know her displeasure.

"BY ORDER OF MY COMMAND SEALS!" She declared, and the two servants straightened, "YOU BOTH WILL STOP SEEKING TO KILL ONE ANOTHER BEFORE THE END OF OUR MISSION!" and then the two slowly began to descend, strange bursts of magic running over them, like lighting through a thundercloud. Finally, they bowed their heads toward Lady Fujimaru.

"Yes, Master," they said together, the strain on their voice showing that they were fighting the order with all their might. Yet, finally, they stopped, their bodies slackened. They glared at one another, but their weapons disappeared from their hands. Before they could say anythingelse, however, suddenly, there was a cough, and they both looked over at Lady Fujimaru.

"Now that you two rocks for brains aren't smashing up our camp," she held out her hand, "Clean this place up."

"Mas-"

"Do you want me to use more Command Seals," she declared, looking over the both of them, "I got plenty for both of you," she snapped her finger, and pointed at the ruined platform, "That thing isn't going to be used anymore, but we're going to need firewood. I want it all stacked and ready by the time I get back up," she stared at them, "Do I make myself clear?"

"Yes, Master," Bloodraven bowed his head. On the other hand, Bittersteel glared over at Lady Fujimaru, who raised a single eyebrow at the larger man. The archtraitor of the Targaryen's did not bow his head to the young girl, who in turn raised her marking covered arm. He then sighed, before nodding his head, causing the girl to laugh.

"Good," she said, before turning on her heel back towards her quarters, "I'll leave you to it," she then stopped, "Oh, Lancer, keep an eye on them for me, would you?"

Rhaegar paused, before he looked over at her arm. He then nodded, and said, "Yes, Lady Fujimaru," she smiled genuinely at him, before returning to her walk. Before he could really understand the order, she had opened the door and returned to her quarters. He then looked over at the two other servants.

"That girl," Berserker growled, glaring up towards her retreating form, before snorting out, "One day she will learn that she is not so mighty as she considers herself," he then turned, and as ordered, began picking up the pieces of the platform he had crushed to pieces. As he began, Rhaegar looked over at Archer, and waited for him to follow his brother to his task. But as the seconds ticked by, Bloodraven merely looked at him.

"Lord Bloodraven," Rhaegar began, "Lady Fujimaru-"

"If you wish to call her by our custom," Bloodraven said, "You best call her Lady RItsuka, that is her name," Rhagear blinked, as Bloodraven's single eye locked onto him, "Fujimaru is her family name. Her people's custom is to be called by their family name first," he raised his nose higher up, "Unless, of course, you might agree to start calling her by what she is entitled," he then began to turned away from the ruined platform, and walked up towards his own small hovel, "Do not think your refusal to use the title keeps her from being your Master."

Rhaegar could not muster anything to say as the thinner man departed. He was about to call out to Bloodraven, when the albino transformed into a crow, and took off into the air. He was about to call out to Archer, when he heard a loud laugh from behind him.

"Things never change," Berserker had already cleared a surprisingly large pile of wood from the old platform. As he did so, he continued to speak, "For years at the Red Keep, he would always play the dutiful son, even if he was indolent to his core. He would sit on his ass, read his books, and because his mother paid some witch sleeping under their accursed tree to keep her tits from sagging, he never received any reprimand," Rhaegar got a good look at Bittersteel's sneering face, "Blackwoods…fucking Blackwoods."

Rhaegar did his best to keep an even face. The Blackwoods and the Brackens had hated each other for generations, perhaps before the Andals came across the Narrow Sea. He had heard the songs, read the stories, and come to the conclusion that he wanted nothing to do with it. It was a knot of rape, murder, and atrocity that consumed every generation of these family.

'It is honestly a blessing,' he then stopped, 'Or mayhaps a curse that there are any members of either family still alive now.'

"And the worst part will be that when that little Missy returns, the task will be done, and there will be no place for punishment," Berserker had already managed to clear out huge amounts of the splintered wood, "Ser Quentyn and Daemon and Daeron and Baelor," he took in a breath, "If only I had a few more moments, I would have finally put my hands around that Blackwood, and wrung his thin neck,' Bittersteel reached up, and held the back of his neck, "But no, once again, I am deprived of my vengeance. Of justice."

"Justice?" Rheagar questioned. That got another, even more bitter laugh from the first.

"Yes, Justice," Bittersteel was now actually looking at Rhaegar, rather than into the distance, "Oh, justice for a thousand injuries that Blackwood has done to me and my kin," he continued to laugh while Rhaegar could not help but growl in return.

"Justice would have had your head on a pike," Rhaegar declared, "Liar, Thief, Killer, Murderer, Oathbreaker," he then walked directly up to Bittersteel, showing that unlike Bloodraven, he was near in size to the great bastard, "Traitor."

Rhaegar glared directly into Bittersteel's eyes, and took a moment of pride that the giant only slightly tilted his neck downward to meet hi-

CRACK

Rheagar was on the ground, his skull almost split in twain. As he stared up into the sky, he saw stars dip and dance, creating a twisting vortex of lights that swirled around his mind. He felt a pooling of blood along the back of his head. He placed his hands down on the dirt, and tried to push himself to his feet, only to get pushed back down on his belly, a heavy foot pressed directly between his shoulder blades.

"Listen here, Dragon Prince," Rhaegar stopped struggling, as now there was a terrifying energy joining the great mass that was holding him down, "Do remember, that despite my hair being brown instead of grey, I am a babe like you in warfare. For nearly half a century I fought your sires, living long enough that your father's father was on the field the last time I last stepped in this country," every word he spoke only seemed to make Bittersteel heavier, his words stabbing into Rhaegar, "I do not need to kill you whelp, the time you and I would have been enemies passed when Daemon's last son by son fell to the dirt," the foot seemed to come off of Rhaegar's back, only to slam back down ward, pushing Rhaegar's chest into the dirt, "Yet if you dare insult me like some common cur, do not think I will restrain myself from breaking you like the fragile jewels that adorn your armor," Then, and only then, did Bittersteel move his foot from Rhaegar's back.

Berserker then returned to the remaining pile of wood, and began to pick up another arm full. Rhaegar, his body and mind shaking from the assault, managed to push himself to a seat, where he watched the older man work on his task. It took only a few more moments for the wood to be cleared and set aside for firewood. With that Bittersteel could only nod, and then turn toward another building, the one that Rhaegar could only guess was his quarters.

"Lancer," the Bracken gave one final look back at Rhaegar as he began to leave the circle, "I suggest you keep your nose clean. I am among the kindest of us."

Rheager could only watch and growl as Bittersteel disappeared into his quarters. And yet, in the back of his mind, he considered that the great Bastard was not lying now.

"So they actually managed to clean all that shit up," Lady Fujimaru declared. It was strange how her name worked. Did it not just make more sense to have the name of the family come second. After all, if two brothers work together, would it not be easier to list them by their names first, rather than confuse them by their familial calling? Rhaegar could only see this girl's people as silly as her, "Good to see it."

The girl then took a bite out of a strange food that she had unwrapped from some strange wrapping. She chewed on it, a loud crunch coming from her mouth as bits of strangely ground grain and dark brown chunks remained where she had bitten out of. Rhaegar could only watch her as she ate, wondering just why anyone would pack food or make food in such a manner. She stopped, stared at him, and then held it towards him for a moment while shaking her hand.

"Granola?"

Rhaegar stared at the half eaten food, and then shook his head, "No, I am not hungry."

"Pssh," she waved her free hand, "I forget what you new servants are like sometimes," she took another bite. As she chewed, she continued to speak, "Yoush shall ack lie yoush," she stopped, and swallowed, which Rhaegar appreciated, "like you don't want to eat or sleep or whatever, like you weren't ever human, but that was always stupid," she waved the granola around towards him, "but in reality, I can see you all still want to enjoy the better parts of life."

"I do not believe I have seen any of your other servants attempt to eat anything," Rhaeagar said, "And from what I have seen, they only seem to sleep to pass time."

Fujimaru rolled her eyes, before tossing the rest of her food into her mouth, and then chewing it quickly. A moment later, she smiled at him, and said, "It took me some time, but I got everyone in Chaldea to eventually start taking care of themselves, and I'm going to get through to the rest of you too."

Rhaegar would have responded, however he saw the image of dark wings soaring through the sky behind her. A moment later, the crow collided with the earth, and then the spindly form of Bloodraven stood up.

"I take it you rested well Master?" he said.

"Oh yeah," Lady Fujimaru said, putting the wrapping of her "Granola" into a pocket. Of her trousers. So strange, "After how long I was walking about, I needed to get some sleep," she looked out, over the now sun covered valley, and then said, "Hey, goodwork last night. Knew you and Berserker could do it if you guys just stopped trying to kill each other every five minutes."

"Yes, Master," he bowed his head. Rhaegar could only think that perhaps he should explain that Bloodraven had not done any of the work, but decided that would only add to the needless confrontation. Bloodraven then raised his head, and continued, "After our task, I took the liberty of scouting out to see if the others are on their way back," but then he shook his head, "I saw none of them. Not Rider, nor Saber nor As-"

"All good," Lady Fujimaru waved her hand dismissively, "We still got plenty of time," she walked over to a chair, and then sat down, "Besides, unlike the mission to find you," she pointed at Bloodraven, "I don't even really have an idea of where the place to find the origin of the White Walkers is. Lucey Goosey can sit on ass all day in there," she pointed to the main hall, where Lord Onos had spent the time since they had been summoned alone, perhaps studying to himself, "And the others will get back when I need them," she had been the one to set out the tasks for the other servants, though it seemed Onos was in charge.

"So he is using his spells to see where the origin of the Others is located then?" Bloodraven asked, and Lady Fujimaru nodded, "I must ask you how you were able to find my cave."

"Read it in a book," she answered quickly, "Now then, speaking of old Scratch, I need to go make sure he isn't sacrificing the blood of orphan virgins or whatever he does," she then turned, and headed back inside her quarters. As she reached the door, she then turned back, and waved, "Well come on, you all aren't on break or anything. Lucy could use some more company!"

Rhaegar was confused by the improper manner of the way she addressed Onos. It wasn't like himself or any of the others, it often seemed as though her only goal was to poke at him. And while she did that for all of them, it seemed she seemed to delight in it with Onos.

"Damn brat," Bloodraven growled beneath his breath as he began to follow Lady Fujimaru up into her quarters.

Though that did not mean that others did not respond poorly to her prodding. Bloodraven was hardly the one that struggled the hardest beneath Lady Fujimaru's thumb, but he was in many ways the most vicious. He only seemed to hide it better, certainly better than Bittersteel had managed. Perhaps that was one reason he had always managed to escape the toils that had so aggravated Berserker.

"Treats us like we are nothing more than her servants," he growled, "never takes a moment to ask what we might offer to her beyond what trickles into her tiny little mind," Rhaegar remained silent as they both followed, "I have a century of knowledge of the workings of this continent, and yet she goes crashing forward."

"I suppose it is frustrating," Rhaegar admitted, "She does not listen to me in the slightest. As far as she is concerned, all I exist to do is guard her when she goes off on one of her walks," that had been the real extent of his duties. He hadn't been given anything as important as the scouting that had been handed to Rider. Though consid-

"That at least speaks to her favor then," Bloodraven reached the door, and placed his hand on it, "that does speak to some level of cunning, however low that may be."

They entered the hall, and found that it was three rooms long, with a small room with a large table, enough to seat ten at thick wooden chairs, at the entrance at the middle where they had entered. It was set, withhold iron plates at every place and worn tin cups, though with four thick walls the room was still the best he'd seen in the whole of the camp. On one end, of the room, there was a fire place, but one that had two entrances, one toward the dining hall itself, and the other going into the kitchen to the right. There were smells coming from there, of long ago cooked meals, but there was no one in there now. On the third end, where he saw the back of Lady Fujimaru, he saw several couches and sedans, covered in furs over top. At the side was a large stairwell that lead to the second floor, which Lady Fujimaru was already halfway up.

"She does not lack for energy," he sighed.

As they made it to the second floor, they saw the long hall that laid out in front of them, leading all the way over the top of the three larger rooms. There seemed to be six or so rooms up on this floor, though Fujimaru was already standing next to one, that Rhaegar was sure belonged to Lord Onos. As they walked up, Lady Fujimaru raised her hand almost daintily to knock on the door.

"WAKE UP LUCY!"

SLAMSLAMSLAMSLAMSLAM

And then punched the door several times with all her strength. Rhaegar actually flinched at her shriek, and as she continued to do so, he could see that Bloodraven was grinding his teeth. This continued on for around twelve knocks, before the door opened rather quickly.

Lord Onos, tall, tanned, long white hair falling to his back, stared down at Lady Fujimaru. He had a long red robe upon his body, with a familiar strange green light emanating from the rest of his body. His features were stoically flat, without a muscle seeming to be strained.

"You do know you could have knocked once, and I would have come at the same pace I did just now," he said with remarkable calm.

"Yeah, this was funner," she said, throwing her arms behind her head, and pushing her way past Onos into his room.

Onos's left eye twitched.

"So," Lady Fujimaru continued, finding a chair within Onos's solar, "What have you found for me?" she leaned backward. For a second, she seemed about to throw her feet up on a table in a completely undignified manner, only to stop, and place them down on the ground.

"What I have had for you for the past several days," Onos groaned, clenching his arms behind his back and striding into the middle of the room, "is exactly the same as every other day," he found a chair for himself, and then sat down, "I have found nothing of the origin of the Others, and the amount of time I have spent keeping an eye on your," he paused, and almost sneered as he said it, "Friends," he added, "Has kept me from focusing on it enough to make the discovery as swift as you wish it to be."

"Oh come on," Lady Fujimaru laughed, "I haven't sent you off on nearly as many crazy missions as we did before we got these guys," she waved her hand back toward Rhaegar and Bloodraven, who remained at the door, for propriety's sake if nothing else, "I mean, you aren't jumping through time, or space really," she waved her hand at the table, "Just looking through books and using magic like a GPS."

"As I told you, it is more difficult than you can imagine," Onos returned, "You are the one knowledgeable abou-"

"And I told you," Lady Fujimaru pointed at Onos, "George hasn't published that information yet," she leaned back, while Rhaegar saw yet another twitch in Onos's left eye, "I mean, even the TV show is mostly kind of vague, and it kind of…" she waved her hand a bit, "Well, I'd really rather not rely on a couple of dinguses who rushed their way out so they could go make Star Wars movies," she stuck out her tongue, "But, anyway, I'm sure if you keep studying, you'll be able to find your way. I mean, I technically only had a vague idea of where Bloodraven was, but you found him."
"The area you are asking me to search for this origin is far larger than the area between a river and a large hill," Onos complained, though he looked back at Bloodraven, "And if there was no actual location you know of for this origin," he returned his glare to Lady Fujimaru, "Then why did you not decide to choose a place we could already know about!?"

This was not the first time that these two had spoken to each other in such a manner. Or, manners. For at times, they spoke as though they had learned of the world through some book or tome. At others, they acted as though they were the ones who crafted the world itself. Were it not for summoning he and his ancestors from the dead, he would have thought them delusional…though he still did, despite their strange powers.

"Oh come on," the red haired girl waved her hand dismissively, "you act like I really changed that much for this," she waved her hand, "I only filled in some stuff with some other minor stuff, nothing that was that huge."

"Yes, and having one of these savages marry Artoria Pendragon is a minor change."

"What?" Rhaegar felt his blood grow cold. He looked to his side, and saw Bloodraven now stepping forward, his one red eye locked on his Master, "What did he say you did?"

"Oh yeah," Lady Fujimaru laughed, before turning in the chair so she sat with the back of the seat toward her chest, "I suppose you all don't quite get that's wrong huh?" she laughed, "Well, see, I really liked Artoria a lot right, one of my first servants," she began waving her hand about, "but she always seemed kind of lost relationship wise. I mean there was this Emiya guy, but he wouldn't take the fucking plunge. It really was annoying, I mean, I get it, past lives meeting with one another, trying to maintain distance to not bring up old wounds. All this will they, won't they bullshit. Just agree it's over or take your clothes off and start hum-"
"Stop getting sidetracked," Onos groaned, though he had left himself to merely rub his temples.

"Of fine," she then turned back "Well, sometimes, when me and," she stopped, and for a second it seemed as though her whole body flinched, only to continue a second after that, "When I got bored, sometimes, I would start pairing up my servants. At first it was with each other, like I really kind of wanted Nightingale to try a date with Beowulf, but-"

"The point."

"Right, right," she sighed after a moment, "Any way, eventually, I moved on to pairing up my servants with fictional characters, and I liked matching Arotria up with Ned Stark," she clapped her hands, "So, since we were already taking the servants and inserting them into history, generating the confluence of mana stores of this univer-ah, the mechanics aren't important," she smiled, "When we got Artoria picked up, I decided, what the hell, why not see if my romantic instincts were right," she then threw her hands up, "And they were, they totally were."

"So," Rhaegar managed to get out, "Artoria Lannister isn't supposed to-"
"She isn't even supposed to exist," she laughed, "Not here anyway. But I thought, why not, get a bit of a classic fantasy love story, it would be-"

"You!" Bloodraven shook, "You!"

"Yup, me."

"You're the cause of all this," Bloodraven shrieked, "The disturbance those many years ago, the interloper that deprived me of my perfect vessel," he pointed at Lady Fujimaru's face, "I am only barely able to speak with him now. And every time I have attempted to increase the power of the green within him, that whore you brought here pushes it farther away."

"Now listen," she held up her hands, "just cause you won't be able to take over the body of a little boy and turn him into your tree mouth speaker, doesn't mean that you should call someone a whore."

"YOU CUNT!" Bloodraven materialized his bow, but before he could make to draw it back, Rhaegar threw his arms around him, and held him in place, "You cunt! You ignorant savage!" Rhaegar could scarcely believe the amount of strain it caused him to hold onto the shorter, thinner servant, "You have turned a hundred years of effort and planning into smoke in the wind! You have robbed me of my-"

"Yeah, that's enough," whatever amusement had been in Lady Fujimaru had disappeared. She held up her arm once more, "Archer, by my command seal," Rhaegar's fellow Targaryen refused to stop thrashing, "You will never try to kill me."

And then Bloodraven turned straight as a board. Rhaegar could only sigh as Bloodraven then loosened in his arms. He looked at Lady Fujimaru, who gave him a nod. Rhaegar then pulled his arms from Bloodraven. The Archer staggered for a moment, before standing up, and pointing the bow again at his master. In an instant, he strung up and loosed an arrow.

SHLINK

That passed by Lady Fujimaru's head as she sat there uninterested. She just continued to sit there, staring directly at the old man. And he, could only glare back at him.

"You have made a grave error in mocking me," Bloodraven growled.

"And you made a grave error in ignoring my orders," she pointed directly at him, before waving her hand, "Oh, Lancer, would you mind removing Archer from this room," she then turned her head toward Lord Onos, "He and I have more strategy to discuss," Rhaegar could only bow his head slightly, getting a confident nod from Lady Fujimaru in the process.

"Come now," Rhaegar reached out to grab at Bloodraven's shoulder, only to watch as the albino pulled away from Rhaegar's hand. The Archer then marched through the door, while Rhaegr made to follow him. He made sure to close the door to the room as he left, leaving the two mages to themselves. Part of him wished to listen in through the door. However…

Rhaegar kept his eyes on Bloodraven as his fellow servant descended the stairs. He doubted that his fellow servant would do anything too dangerous, yet it would be best to keep him from even thinking to do so. He quickly followed the other servant, and soon, found him standing out at the edge of the camp. There was mystic energy surrounding him, as he stared south, toward the great Wall that rose up through the forest.

"Lord Bloodraven," Rhaegar began, "I must ask-"

"Quiet you fool," the older man snapped back, "I do not care for whatever inane thought pops out of your spoiled head."

"Lady Fujimaru-"

"See," Bloodraven snapped, "See, you keep everything as you wish it, not caring for what has happened, or how things actually are," he pointed, "So self obsessed. It is no wonder that in the history of the Targaryen Dynasty, it was you that brought it to an end."

"I don-"

"Of course you don't!" Bloodraven continued to glare at him, "You go from one place to another, guided by whatever meets your fancy. Handsome, austere, gifted with a lance. You are the perfect toy for a fool such as that girl," he then waved his hand at himself, "I spent decades planning for the best way for the Iron Throne to thrive. I sacrificed everything for it, only to be reduced to a mere slave," he turned his back to Rhaegar, "If I am to make something out of this foolishness, I cannot remain here," as he did so, the edges of his cloak bean to become covered in feathers, "stay here and follow your fate, Promised Prince. I have business with the next Greenseer."

And then, the crow took off, his wings illuminated in the midday sun. Rhaegar could only look after it. He almost made to call out for Bloodraven, but stopped himself, and shook his head.

There was no need. He had been asked only to remove Bloodraven, and he had done so. Any further distraction might anger Onos or Lady Fujimaru. Best just alert them when they were next free.

And yet, as he saw one of the legendary members of his house disappear toward the horizon, Rhaegar could not help but envy Bloodraven for some reason.

'What would it be like to fly free as a bird,' he thought to himself, 'to gain the wings we have lost,' he shook his head, 'No need for romantic dreams and visions now,' He had duties, and they involved things that needed his feet on the ground, 'After all…'

'Where have dreams ever gotten Targaryens anyway.'