Again. This time I was aware of what was happening. My soul was without a body again. Something had happened. I remember smirking at that alien and taking some pleasure in knowing that it didn't understand what it had brought on board its ship. I had conquered the Wasteland, brought peace to America once more, and left it in a state that could go on without me. The Enclave had been crushed, the NCR brought to heel, The Brotherhood of Steel, the Children of Atom, and all the rest had been folded into my empire.

So when we finally managed to get to the alien fleet, I had no regrets about finally dying. Outside of Earth's atmosphere, I could see how many ships were hovering around the planet. They had been watching. Waiting. I couldn't reach them from the surface, but when I made myself too interesting of a target, I knew it would only be a matter of time before they finally abducted me. And when they finally had… I had no regrets in using my mastery over nuclear power to sear the fleet from existence.

"Will you serve?" a reverberating voice, alien and deeper than the vastness of space echoed in my mind.

"Serve?" I asked. "Who are you?"

"Serve me," the voice commanded. "Serve me and never die."

"It doesn't seem to matter if I die," I sighed. "Who are you?"

"I am the deep," it responded. "The crushing depths, the blackness at the bottom. Serve me. Serve me and I will grant you dominion over my domain and all that resides within it."

"I want my magic still," I groaned as the voice threatened to overwhelm me. This was the third time something like this had happened, and the second time some… thing… spoke to me before I was reborn in some other world. I was determined to go into this one with my powers intact. "My magic and my abilities. I want to be whole."

"Seeds must grow," the voice thrummed. "Serve me and grow. Serve me and eyes will be opened to you."

"How would you have me serve you?" I pressed, my words cracking against the weight of the voice.

"Spread my word," it commanded. "Spread my influence. Bring down the new gods. Diminish their light and I shall grant you a final boon."

Without a body I was unable to block out the sound of the voice. I threatened to shatter my very essence. I had been determined to bargain but now I simply wanted to be released from the impossible storm that was the voice.

"Very well!" I cried out. "I will serve you! Will do as you ask!"

The presence of the voice was gone in an instant. I don't know how but I could tell I was placed inside of a body once more. Now I was waking once again. My soul, my person, my consciousness, whatever you wanted to call it, had finally been tucked back into a mortal shell. I opened my eyes as a cloth was brusquely wiped over my face. I flinched for a moment but as the woman above me continued to wipe me down, I tried to get a look at my surroundings. I saw men with ragged hair, sallow faces, and ragged roads staring at me. There were others, too. Men in light armor. Gambesons and light plate.

Another medieval world. But which one? My gaze darted about for any clue. It wasn't until a man with a gaunt, hard face, hard black eyes, and long graying hair that hung past the small of his back approached. On his chest was a sigil, a golden kraken on a black field.

"House Greyjoy?" I gasped.

"The visions were true," another man, this one was tall and thin with fierce black eyes and a beak of a nose, and his beard went down to his waist and had seaweed woven into it. "She speaks as soon as she is free to do so."

"Please, m'lord," a woman's voice pleaded weakly. "Please, my baby. She is innocent."

"Be silent," the gaunt-faced man said. "She has been shown to all the Drowned Men in the past few months. All the signs, all the visions have led them here. She is not your child. She is the child of the Drowned God."

"But, m'lord, I only meant tha-"

The woman's words were cut off as the gaunt-faced man wheeled and drew his sword before running her through, "I said be silent!"

Another man, pale and handsome with black hair and a neat dark beard, wearing an eyepatch over his left eye, laughed and marched up to the woman holding me, "Now now, brother! You'll scare the poor girl! Come. Hand her over."

The woman looked at me hesitantly before handing me over carefully.

The man with the eyepatch pulled me close and looked at me with his good eye that was as blue as the summer sky and blue tinted lips, "Look at her. She's a firm one. Now, what should we call you, little one?"

I stared up at the man, slowly realizing where I was and, more horrifyingly, who was holding me, "Merida. My name is Merida… Euron Greyjoy."

Euron's smile doubled in size as he wheezed out a laugh that turned into a series of barks, "How do you know my name?"

"The Drowned God gave me knowledge," I said carefully. They'd mentioned that they had been given visions of my arrival. And now, realizing that I was somewhere on the Iron Islands off the coast of Westeros, I needed to ingratiate myself with those I'd been placed in the hands of. Why did it have to be the Ironborn? Why did it have to be the Greyjoys. And the person holding me right now was among the most dangerous and unpredictable in the Seven Kingdoms… Possibly one of the most dangerous in the world.

"Did he?" Euron asked, his blue eye gleaming with mischief.

"Euron, enough," the gaunt-faced man commanded. "Bring her here."

"You're no fun, Balon," Euron chuckled and carried me over to Balon.

Balon Greyjoy. Lord of the Iron Islands. His hair wasn't completely gray yet. How far back had I been born? If Euron and Balon were still on speaking terms, that meant that it was at least before 297 AC.

Euron handed me over to Balon who looked down at me, "How can you speak?"

I considered how best to respond. In Thedas, I could be diplomatic. In the Wasteland, diplomacy came in the form of strength. Now I was in Westeros, the Iron Islands specifically. Here, strength was respected most. Strength of body and strength of character. I could have answered diplomatically, but I sensed that this wasn't the best way to bring me into their good graces.

"The same way you do," I said with a huff. "Only prettier."

Euron barked out a laugh again, "Oh, she has spirit, this one! Father will be pleased."

"Father?" a third man with a waist long beard that had seaweed woven into it asked. "No. She needs to come with us. If she has been sent by the Drowned God, then the Drowned Men should raise her and teach her our ways."

"You're mad if you think that Father would want her to go with your lot," Balon scoffed. "She'll be brought to Pyke and Father will decide what to do with her from there."

"What year is it?" I asked. Talking was much easier this time around. It seemed like I was gaining more and more strength with each new world I went to.

"What?" Euron chuckled. "The Drowned God gave you knowledge but not the year?"

I looked at Euron, not appreciating the jest and as our eyes met, something happened. A flash of a storm, crashing washed, snapping lightning, the roar of a hurricane It happened in an instant and Euron's face grew pale.

"What. Year. Is. It," I asked again, slowly, trying to sound as threatening as my cherubic voice would allow.

"Two seventy three," Euron responded with a hush awe.

"Then Aerys is King…" I mused to myself. I wanted to add the word 'for now' but I didn't want to stop Robert's Rebellion from happening. I didn't know if I could considering how Aerys would turn out. He would go mad and someone would eventually rebel. There was no point in stopping Robert from being the one to succeed the throne. I would only be ten by the time things reached that point, anyway.

"Who else?" Balon asked. He shook his head, "It's no matter. Let's get you to Pyke and see what Father decides to do with you. Aeron, you may bring your Drowned Men with you, but mind that they keep their distance. Until Father has his say, they're not to come close."

The ride took a few hours for the horses to wind their way through the craggy landscape of Pyke. I took the time to sleep and recover my strength. This was always the worst part of my rebirths. As a baby, I hated having so little energy, hated not being physically capable, or even being able to simply sit upright on my own power. Still, though, my strength was more than it had been in any of my other times being reborn. I was starting to notice that much already. By the time we'd reached the castle, I was awake again.

I could smell the salt in the air, hearing the crashing of the waves as they beat against the stoney shore of the island. It seemed like I simply couldn't get away from the sea. Apart from my time in Thedas, I always ended up close to the ocean. Even in the Wasteland I was born close to the sea. Here I was once again, with the sea calling to me. With every crash of the waves I felt something. Something similar to the way I could feel the stone…

The shock of that realization hit me. I could feel the stone! I could sense it and connect to it as I had been here for decades now! The voice had given me what I wanted! And where the stone met the water, there was a resonance, a melding of my senses the way my eyes would watch someone speak while my ears would listen to them. Not only could I sense the stone, I could sense the water. I could feel the ripples and waves, the ebb and flow of the tides, the revelry in the water as it smashed against the shore. I needed to test one more thing out, but it would have to be when I was alone. For now, I simply smiled. As agonizing as it had been speaking with the Voice, I understood now that it had been worth it.

The Voice had said that it was the Deep. If it had placed me here with the Greyjoys, then I could only imagine that it had been the Drowned God, or whatever the Drowned God truly was. I knew that what most people thought was the Drowned God was likely just the Deep Ones… but something had granted me my powers immediately. And I had promised to serve it. If it wanted me to spread its word and influence, then I would ensure every sept in Westeros would be dedicated to the deep.

The castle doors opened and we rode through into the courtyard. There, the Greyjoys dismounted and I was carried inside with all care. As rough and argumentative as the three brothers seemed, Balon took great consideration of my care. It was likely because he had sons already. He knew how to handle a baby. For that much, I was grateful. I was carried into a large, open room with a large hearth, crackling with a healthy fire. In front of the fire was a large black chair shaped in the image of a kraken and hewn from a black, oily stone.

Sitting on the throne was a man who was taller than the three Greyjoys I'd met so far. He had long white hair and a long white beard, all of which was well groomed. He had a strong build and seemed like he would be an excellent warrior. He glared at me with eyes like black pools as Balon carried me towards him. While his face was hard and weatherworn, his expression was contemplative, like he was already considering what to make of me. This had to be Quellon Greyjoy, the Lord Reaper of Pyke.

"Father," Balon said, "the omens and visions of the Drowned Men were true. Here is the child they saw in their dreams. She says her name is Merida."

"She says?" Quellon asked as he stood and crossed the few feet to look down at me. "You expect me to believe she can talk?"

"You may believe what you like," I responded with a smile, "but your wisdom wouldn't have sent your sons to find me if you didn't think the visions were believable."

Quellon stared at me with great consideration, his face never once betraying his thoughts, "How is it you can speak?"

This time I did not make a quip, "I don't know, My Lord. It is a gift, among many, granted to me by the Drowned God."

"Hand her to me," Quellon ordered Balon. Balon obeyed and Quellon took me carefully and seemed to inspect me carefully. "What other gifts do you possess?"

"Foresight," I replied, staring up at him. "As well as command over the waves." I omitted the fact that I could command the stone, or that I could summon nuclear fire. Better to keep some things secret, at least for now.

"Command over the waves?" Quellon echoed. He took some time to think on that answer then walked past his sons, exiting the hall.

"Where are you taking her?" Aeron asked.

"I want to see if she speaks the truth," he responded as he continued walking. His sons quickly fell in behind him, their curiosity getting the better of them.

Back through the massive door we went, back out into the sun. Quellon took a sure path, his footing excellent and practiced. He knew his castle and the ground around them. Even the moss on the stones couldn't undermine his surefootedness. His calm demeanor didn't betray his curiosity, and I had to wonder what sort of proof he'd want. I knew I could sense the water but in these few hours I hadn't had the chance to try and manipulate it. Quellon walked down to the beach, across the soaking sand, and out into the shallows.

He held me there and looked out across the water, then down to me, "Well, Merida, now is the time to prove your words to me. Command the water."

"What do you wish for me to do, My Lord?" I asked as I began to reach out to gain a sense of this new gift.

He looked down on me with a neutral expression, "Simply command it. Make it obey you. Do what you will. If it comes crashing up on us or moves away, I care not. I simply wish to see the truth of your claims."

I did my best to nod, "I will try. I was only born today, so I ask you for a small amount of patience."

"I'm as patient as the stone is as the waves wear it down," Quellon said calmly.

I can say that I liked Quellon immediately. His patient, calm demeanor was welcoming and refreshing. It had been some time since I'd known someone like him. He reminded me of Father… well, of King Endrin Aeducan when I was first reborn. He was the one positive thing that had happened so far.

I turned my head to look out at the water, stretching out my senses to get a feel for it. I could feel it lapping at Quellon's leg, I felt it lazily drifting up onto the shore. The churning, ever constant flow was different from the way of stone. I could feel it, though. I gained a sense of it slowly. It was close. My will slipped into the water and commanded it to split. The waves slowly parted, pulling away from each other like a curtain. They parted for several yards and I let them sit there for some time, leaving Quellon standing on muddy ground.

"Is that sufficient, My Lord?" I asked as I looked up at him.

Quellon looked around for several moments as the water was held at bay before he cast his gaze down upon me, "You truly were sent by the Drowned God. Why are you here? What does he want from us?"

"I don't know," I admitted. "I only know that my purpose is to spread his word and influence. He has placed me in your hands. What will you do?"

"Aeron," Quellon called without a moment's hesitation.

Aeron, who was marveling at the act of the water being commanded, stepped forward, "Yes, Father?"

Quellon carefully handed me over to his son, "Baptize her in our faith. I will name her when you bring her back to me."

Aeron looked down at me then back to his father, "Are you certain? She's only hours old. Baptizing her now might kill her."

"If she was sent to us by the Drowned God, then there is nothing to worry about," Quellon responded.

"Her command of the waves is not proof enough?" Euron, of all people, protested.

"Father, we might be squandering a precious gift from the Drowned God himself."

"I've given my command," Quellon's voice deepened. "Dedicate her in our faith."

I looked up at Aeron. While I wasn't physically capable of stopping him, I could use my stone abilities to kill them. Something stopped, though. I wasn't afraid of the water. I had faith that if I was plunged beneath the waves that no harm would come to me. With this sense of safety, I allowed the water to come back and smiled at Aeron, "I'll be fine. You cannot drown me."

Aeron's eyes widened as if the level of faith I had in my words astounded him, "Very well, little one." He lifted me up and called out, "Our great Lord, the Drowned God, I beseech you. We dedicate this newborn to your service and give her to the sea. May your servant be born again from the sea, as you were. Bless her with salt, bless her with stone, bless her with steel."

"What is dead may never die," I intoned the proper response.

Aeron slowly lowered me down and the salt water rushed over me. I could see his fierce visage being distorted by the waves. I stared up at him, my blue eyes never drifting away from his. He held me under the water for a minute, and then two… My lungs should not have been able to last more than thirty seconds before giving out as I was so small. It took me some time to realize that I was still breathing. Once I noticed the sensation at my neck, I couldn't help but pay attention to it. I could feel water entering through my mouse and nose and being expelled through tiny gill slits around my neck. So this was another gift from the Voice…

I could hear the muffled shouts of the Greyjoys after a few minutes. They were arguing about something. Aeron finally pulled me up and stared at me in wonder, "I told you… she did not drown."

I tried blinking the water from my eyes, "I told you that you couldn't drown me."

Aeron used a dry part of his robe to wipe my face clear of the water then handed me back to Quellon, "She is an avatar of the Drowned God, Father. I can see no other explanation."

Euron and Balon stepped close to look at me as Quellon gave me that look of careful consideration once again, "I want you boys to listen to me, and listen well. Merida will be known as Merida Pyke. For all the world knows, she is my bastard and will be treated as a member of this family. Aeron will teach her of the Drowned God and she will take on the role of a priestess. Euron, you will teach her the ways of combat. Balon, she will learn how to sail from you. No one will utter a word about her power to anyone, do you understand?"

"Yes, Father," the three brothers said in unison.

"And Merida?" Quellon kept his gaze on me. "You will not speak unless you are alone with one of us, your family. We cannot let this secret slip. Do you understand?"

I did my best to give a nod, though my lack of general muscle control and being swaddled in cloth didn't make the movement easy, "Yes, My Lord."

"Father," Quellon insisted.

"Yes, Father," I corrected myself.

"Excellent," Quellon turned and carried back to the castle. "Aeron, gather the Drowned Men. We will give thanks to the Drowned God. Euron, I want you to send out word; all Ironborn ships are to return home with haste. Balon, I task you with finding a bed and clothes for your sister. I'm sure you have things at home that your children no longer need."

And so my life in Westeros began. The Drowned Men gathered outside the castle and performed a rite that called for calm seas and fair winds as a celebration of my birth. Over the next few years, I was educated by the Greyjoy brothers.

Euron loved how adept I was at combat. From the moment I could stand and walk, which was thankfully only a few months after I was born this time, he began teaching me. Luckily, he had nothing to truly teach me. But his lessons helped me build up my muscles and started me on the path to getting into fighting shape once again. Balon's sailing lessons were a blessing, though. I hadn't been in charge of sailing a boat since my first life, and getting to know the ropes again was enjoyable. Aeron's lessons were less like lessons and more like sermons… and he listened to me more so than I listened to him. He was extremely fascinated with me.

I did have cousins to spend time with. Balon's son Rodrik, who was six years older than I was, and Maron, who was five years older than me, were regularly brought to the castle so that I had others closer to my age to interact with. However, as I grew, it became evident that I would once again have the stature of a dwarf. While I wasn't misshapen or out of proportion, I was short and sturdy. Rodrik and Maron liked to tease me about my size, but I didn't pay them any mind.

On top of the lessons that my uncles gave me, I spent a good time with Quellon. His reforms on the Ironborn ways grated on his sons, Balon especially, but I could see how much they improved the quality of life of the Iron Islanders. He had stopped reeving around Westeros, encouraged trade, promoted marriages to mainland families, and invited Maesters to the island. Without the threat of Ironborn raiding parties coming to their shores, or Ironborn pirates stealing their goods, Westerosi merchants were more inclined to do business with our people. Quellon wanted me to sit in on meetings and petitions so that I could learn how to properly engage with nobles and peasants alike.

I wanted to tell him how I used to be an Empress and that I knew how to handle such matters, but I didn't. I simply watched and listened, then explained the intricacies of the negotiations he had made when he asked me about them. He seemed to appreciate that I took to the lessons so well.

The first few years were relatively quiet. While there was nothing I could do to stop the madness of King Aerys, or the events that would occur due to it because of my inability to send letters or meet with nobles who did not come to the Iron Islands, I did start to plan my moves for when I was older and had more influence over the Iron Islands.