One Who is Many - [Worm / Game of Thrones]

masterofmadness · Aug 2, 2021

Mr Zoat said:
Finally! Someone not going with the television answer for the identity of Jon's mother!

Well we really don't still know that for this story, just that Oberyn believes it.

Oberyn is certain that Jon is Ashara's son but he could be wrong, Oberyn is nothing if not ridiculously confident. It would not be strange for him to misread the situation based on assumptions and go all in without reservation.

As for Ned while he might have clammed up and had a major reaction to the accusation that is far from proof. Ashara is absolutely one of the major regrets of his life regardless of Jon and would be more then enough to unbalance him. Plus it is in his interest to let that assumption stand even if it is not correct. If Jon is Lyanna's son is adds a layer of protection from anyone finding out because they think they already know the answer If not it still get him an option to be Oberyn Squire. Something that lets the boy he loves go somewhere were he won't be judged for being a Bastard that isn't the Night's watch and is far more better in term of life quality.

Cause remember that Ned doesn't look to want Jon in the Night's watch this time around. In the first chapter the got a report that all animal life near the wall disappeared and while they don't know yet what might be causing that it is more then enough to make him very wary. It was enough in this chapter we found out they are gathering everyone they can to reinforce the Wall alongside what appears to be calling up all the old men to die with honor before the coming winter and are discussing talking to Robert about getting even more. Remember all those mention of old men in Winterfell? Ned took a page out of the book of Cregan Stark during the Dance of Dragon with the Winter Wolves but is sending them the other direction.

Ned might think the Night's watch is honorable but he also doesn't want to send Jon into an inclement warzone where their are strange magical happening going on if he can avoid it.

ATP · Aug 2, 2021

What is Ophelia goal? she do not really need Lannisters or Robert,so why she is helping them? Especially,that she want revenge on them.

rad · Aug 3, 2021

Correct me if I am wrong but IIRC the authors have said that there is another crossover character in this story but have not said who the other Worm character is.

Current bets seem to be Bran or possibly Delilah but who could they have been originally?

Just for the sake of cruelty I'm going to say that Bran could be Dinah or Delilah could be Emma (finally big and strong).

masterofmadness · Aug 3, 2021

ATP said:
What is Ophelia goal? she do not really need Lannisters or Robert,so why she is helping them? Especially,that she want revenge on them.

Does she want Vengeance? Some of her family does but as far as herself she never knew Elia Martell or believes in the idea of avenging a wrong of her house's honor. Her goal is more not losing her new loving family who do want revenge then anything and she only left Dorne because that poisoning plot forced her. She does have a lot of family this time around and a kingdom that could get crushed if they get revenge in without having things set up very carefully so no reason to try for it. Even if she did I doubt she would without also trying to keep the royal children safe since she wouldn't want to kill innocent kids in the pursuit of vengeance.

As for helping them, well why wouldn't she? She doesn't have anything against Robert and actually seem to like Cersei since she reminders her of Lisa, which certainly says something about Lisa. Helping them means Royal favor which prevents any open plots against her family and in a pinch could help them out of the sort of problems a swarm of bees doesn't solve. Plus if she does end up wanting to perform revenge it is a lot easier when you are close then far. Standard courtly politics you know! If you are plotting someone's downfall act like their best friend.

Ophelia is still holding onto hope this is just a vacation. Travel across Westeros with the Royals, meet new people, grab any magic stuff she can on the way and maybe advertise her silk and potions to the nobility. Sadly though she doesn't know it this isn't a normal low fantasy medieval world it is Westeros a crap sack to nearly equal Earth Bet.

rad said:
Correct me if I am wrong but IIRC the authors have said that there is another crossover character in this story but have not said who the other Worm character is.

Current bets seem to be Bran or possibly Delilah but who could they have been originally?

Just for the sake of cruelty I'm going to say that Bran could be Dinah or Delilah could be Emma (finally big and strong).

It was confirmed you are not wrong. Personally my guess is Delilah is either Alexandra because of the super-strength or she is Ophelia's older sister by the mother who died giving birth to her. She is a Waters and her mom was mentioned to be from Dragonstone which would count! It would be a wonderful surprise to find out her newly discovered older sister is pregnant with a new half-sibling that is also her niece or nephew.

ATP · Aug 4, 2021

masterofmadness said:
Does she want Vengeance? Her some of her family does but as far as herself she never knew Elia Martell or believes in the idea of avenging a wrong it her houses honor. Her goal is more not losing her new loving family then anything who do want revenge and she only left Dorne because that poisoning plot forced her. She does have a lot of family this time around and a kingdom that could get crushed if they get revenge in without having things set up very carefully so no reason to try for it. Even if she did I doubt she would without also trying to keep the royal children safe since she wouldn't want to kill innocent kids in the pursuit of vengeance.

As for helping them, well why wouldn't she? She doesn't have anything against Robert and actually seem to like Cersei since reminder her of Lisa, which certainly says something about Lisa. Helping them means Royal favor which prevents any open plots against her family and in a pinch could help them out of the sort of problems a swarm of bees doesn't solve. Plus if she does end up wanting to perform revenge it is a lot easier when you are close then far. Standard courtly politics you know! If you are plotting someone's down fall act like their best friend.

Ophelia is still holding onto hope this is just a vacation. Travel across Westeros with the Royals, meet new people, grab any magic stuff she can on the way and maybe advertise her silk and potions to the nobility. Sadly though she doesn't know it this isn't a normal low fantasy medieval world it is Westeros a crap sack to nearly equal Earth Bet.

It was confirmed you are not wrong. Personally my guess is Delilah is either Alexandra because of the super-strength or she is Ophelia's older sister by the mother who died giving birth to her. She is a Waters and her mom was mentioned to be from Dragonstone which would count! It would be a wonderful surprise to find out her newly discovered older sister is pregnant with a new half-sibling that is also her niece or nephew.

So,Ophelia want vacation,but get another monster to beat ? which one ? Others she could probably handle.Drowned god ,not so.

EontheIon · Aug 4, 2021

I think the real question is; would Robert be mad that Cersei's having a threesome without him or would he be glad that Ophelia's being brought even closer to the royal family to get more of that ever so precious hangover cure?

masterofmadness · Aug 4, 2021

ATP said:
So,Ophelia want vacation,but get another monster to beat ? which one ? Others she could probably handle.Drowned god ,not so.

Yeah probably, though given this is a Game of Thrones and Worm crossover I imagine everyone being unable to put aside their personal squabbles even in the face of an oncoming apocalypse. Also why the confidence she could beat the Others? Maybe the show version where their is a Night King who acts as conveniently killable keystone but the Books Others have no such weakness.

Erik Phantom · Aug 4, 2021

I mean, a pseudo-cliffhanger/fade-to-black-cut to gauge interest before doing NSFW is perfectly reasonable, I don't know why some people have got to be sarcastic assholes to the author(s) about it. While this is QQ the story didn't start here people. Also I see that this is not in the NSFW section, though I could have sworn it was so it may have been moved after said assholes turned them off doing NSFW. If I'm just remembering wrong and it's always been in the non-NSFW section then that's even more reason to gauge interest first though.

I would be interested by the way, but am less sure about the implications for the story and characters in how becoming lovers would effect Cersei's relationship and dynamic with Ophelia. They seem to have an almost mother-daughter dynamic. Also I'm not sure about Tyene choosing to share her (first? It's been essentially outright stated that sexual acts have already happened between them before, as well as other Snakes, but how far it's gone is less clear) time with Ophelia with someone else. Though if Ophelia has resisted this long, her feeling she has to breakout the heavy weaponry to finally move that last step makes sense.

Hopefully a few dickheads haven't completely ruined things for everyone else.

Mr Zoat · Aug 4, 2021

masterofmadness said:
Well we really don't still know that for this story, just that Oberyn believes it.

Oberyn is certain that Jon is Ashara's son but he could be wrong, Oberyn is nothing if not ridiculously confident. It would not be strange for him to misread the situation based on assumptions and go all in without reservation.

Except 'did this woman have a child, y/n' is a question that a friend of the family would easily be able to discover the answer to. The family and household servants would all be able to tell him.

Yupthisisforporn · Aug 4, 2021

Mr Zoat said:
Except 'did this woman have a child, y/n' is a question that a friend of the family would easily be able to discover the answer to. The family and household servants would all be able to tell him.

In canon, Edric himself believes that Wylla, one of the servants of Starfall, is Jon's mother. There are a few people in story that believe Jon is Ashara's child because she and Ned were close (maybe actual lovers) and she committed suicide only some time after Ned left.

On top of that, Ashara is one of the few people (along with Wylla, who is still alive and is otherwise totally unremarkable) Ned won't talk about. Even Robert, canonically, doubts Ned's claim that Wylla is Jon's mother.

Combine this with Oberyn's very headstrong nature, the fact that Jon being Ashara's son IS a semi common rumor in universe (for a given value of semi common), and Oberyn suffering from confirmation bias and you get, to Oberyn Martell, a seemingly very logical chain of events.

Ned also didn't counteract the point at all, for reasons, and that pretty much tells Oberyn that he's 100% right and could in no way be wrong.

As to a pregnancy or not - it's simple. Of course servants would cover for their poor, tragic mistress. And besides, Ashara herself and most of the Daynes are dead. All that's left are Edric, Gerold, Gerold's parents, and one unnamed other. Gerold - Darkstar - is from a branch family and couldn't speak as to the veracity of a secret bastard and Edric just wouldn't know the truth one way or the other as it was another servant, not Wylla herself, who told him that Wylla was Jon Snow's mother.

ATP · Aug 4, 2021

masterofmadness said:
Yeah probably, though given this is a Game of Thrones and Worm crossover I imagine everyone being unable to put aside their personal squabbles even in the face of an oncoming apocalypse. Also why the confidence she could beat the Others? Maybe the show version where their is a Night King who acts as conveniently killable keystone but the Books Others have no such weakness.

ice spiders - she could control them.

Ljapaubeaves · Aug 4, 2021

I feel so honored right now for the inclusion of that scorpion^^ Thank you!
This is the farthest i've ever been recognized by the author of a Fanfic i was reading and you genuinely made my week!

Scrimshaw_NSFW · Aug 4, 2021

XelianEmperor said:
That was 16k words of nothing happening and ending with a cliffhanger

Six different plots were advanced in this chapter. No, no one dies, but things are moving forward. Please don't skim our chapters or you'll be very, very confused going forwards

Windborne said:
Glad they finally got to the North. Huh, Jon getting picked up as a Squire is interesting. Hmm, I wonder if Ophelia picked up on QA visiting Bran. Who I was shocked to find out was the other reincarnation, if QA can even do that. She was the other reincarnation right?

QA wasn't reincarnated, technically, she's just there (for reasons you'll see later I'm afraid). But yes! Minor twist #1 is now in play.

Tzeentch said:
If Jon is the son of Lyanna and Rhaegar, I wonder how much Power his blood carries, what with him being a descendent of TWO ancient royal bloodlines....Ophelia's reaction to him with her own supernatural senses ought to be VERY interesting.

In theory, a LOT. Melisandre would be very happy to burn him alive, lol.

masterofmadness said:
I imagine she will investigate it late on. It could be QA, him being a Greenseer of both but both will probably be noticed upon closer inspection.

Ah, yes, going up to the sons of Lord Paramounts and, as a foreign witch, conducting detailed investigations. What could go wrong?

Organmonkey said:
So Jon is potentially going to Dorne. That could have some very interesting effects.

Good and bad. And there's always the question of what happens to the Night's watch if he's not there to keep things on message.

Prognostic Hannya said:
On the one hand, I really want the lewds, but on the other I find that level of saltiness absolutely hilarious.

Alvor had something very rude to say, considering how much trouble we went through just to keep this story alive. Instead, all we will say is that maybe we don't appreciate it that other people enjoy taking the piss out of something we've spent years of our life trying to create. At this point he's calmed down but it was both in poor taste and very poor timing.

rad said:
Good bit of set up there. When it comes to the conversation between Oberyn and Ned I feel like that should have happened in canon. With the way that Oberyn was supposed to have traveled around so much over the years you would think that he would have stopped by the North to check in on that. Also, the family interaction that the Snakes have is something that I continue to like. The dressing/planning scenes in particular as well as the start of the feast. It would be very easy to simply have them as a set which effectively acts as a single character. Instead they seem to have their own voices, moods, etc which while straining is a hell of a lot better than what many actual books will do when given a similar situation. My one real question is where the Tyrion bit is going. I mean, I like Tyrion and everything but the scene does seem a bit out of place unless there are plans for more of him in this next arc.

You would think so. Unfortunately it seems like something of a post facto plot hole. After all, Oberyn Martell wasn't nearly so important - until he was - and then he was dead. The Snakes are what we think this story will live and die on. They, more than just Ophelia alone, are intended to serve as multi-arc touchstones that allow us to ground our various plots and nefarious plans. Both together and apart we like to view them as our little hands, with which we can set things in motion, let get singed, and then feel out the shape of the plot. We both agree that we very much love our little Snakes and, Gods New and Old alike have mercy on us, we do want to eventually show ALL of them. 'shudders in fear'. Tyrion is going to be the anti-Oberyn. Fear, and pragmatic planning for future debauchery, is actually going to make him the stone cold sober straightman. As we saw in this chapter, Oberyn is neither good for stability, nor morality. In fact, he's actively trying to start a war because he things he swagger his way out of the consequences. And, perhaps this is a bit meta, but this is the man who thought he could fuck around with the Mountain that Rides just because the half giant was on the ground and in pain. So we're going to take someone who is bitter, possessed of a warped kind of bitter confidence, and an absolute lack of enjoyment of being involved in violence and let him play peace keeper. Because Tyrion's life is suffering and it's funny to bully him.

stads said:
nice chapter thx for writing it will be interesting to see if john ill join asa squire or not

That is the question. Oberyn has made the first volley, now he needs to push his victory home.

Kildar said:
On one hand this really really sucks.... on the other hand That's bloody hilarious mate, good on ya. I don't suppose I could convince you to send it via PM's to everyone else? So that I can have my cake AND eat it too?

Don't worry, Alvor has calmed down and we'll try our best at writing the scene. If he can stop acting embarrassed and pretending like he isn't a massive pervert.

Mr Zoat said:
Finally! Someone not going with the television answer for the identity of Jon's mother!

Comments on Mr. Martin's health and seeing the last books aside (deep, deep sigh from Alvor there) all we can say is that Oberyn thinks he's right, Ned didn't say he was wrong, and even Edric Dayne himself would have his own opinions.

masterofmadness said:
Ned might think the Night's watch is honorable but he also doesn't want to send Jon into an inclement warzone where their are strange magical happening going on if he can avoid it.

I would say that there's actually about zero information at all. Ned doesn't know if he's about to face a magical invasion or just giants, mammoths, and hordes of barbarians. Mostly his "Winter is COMING" senses are screaming at him that something is not right.

rad said:
Correct me if I am wrong but IIRC the authors have said that there is another crossover character in this story but have not said who the other Worm character is. Current bets seem to be Bran or possibly Delilah but who could they have been originally? Just for the sake of cruelty I'm going to say that Bran could be Dinah or Delilah could be Emma (finally big and strong).

If - and this is a big if - Emma shows up, we'd probably make her Ophelia's first born just to be extra cruel. That or maybe make her a Summer Islander, Sophia a Yitish courtesan, and Madison a Dothraki Screamer. As to who it is, we'll be revealing it in the next three chapters. But yes, you've met her.

ATP said:
So,Ophelia want vacation,but get another monster to beat ? which one ? Others she could probably handle.Drowned god ,not so.

As a WoG statement, if Ophelia as she is now came into contact with any god or group of gods she would suffer critical existence failure. She is powerful, yes, but that's for a novice mortal mage. But the gods are thousands of years old, if not more, and we've already started to hint at how they're made. Suffice to say, they are broad and deep in ways that Ophelia simply is not.

EontheIon said:
I think the real question is; would Robert be mad that Cersei's having a threesome without him or would he be glad that Ophelia's being brought even closer to the royal family to get more of that ever so precious hangover cure?

Word of God statement? He'd want to watch. He hasn't touched Cersei without being blackout drunk for years and is vaguely aware that if he wants, ah, relief he needs to look elsewhere. Cersei, Tyene, and Ophelia are all very, very attractive. He might even have fantasies about it if he ever finds out XD

Erik Phantom said:
I mean, a pseudo-cliffhanger/fade-to-black-cut to gauge interest before doing NSFW is perfectly reasonable, I don't know why some people have got to be sarcastic assholes to the author(s) about it. While this is QQ the story didn't start here people. Also I see that this is not in the NSFW section, though I could have sworn it was so it may have been moved after said assholes turned them off doing NSFW. If I'm just remembering wrong and it's always been in the non-NSFW section then that's even more reason to gauge interest first though. I would be interested by the way, but am less sure about the implications for the story and characters in how becoming lovers would effect Cersei's relationship and dynamic with Ophelia. They seem to have an almost mother-daughter dynamic. Also I'm not sure about Tyene choosing to share her (first? It's been essentially outright stated that sexual acts have already happened between them before, as well as other Snakes, but how far it's gone is less clear) time with Ophelia with someone else. Though if Ophelia has resisted this long, her feeling she has to breakout the heavy weaponry to finally move that last step makes sense. Hopefully a few dickheads haven't completely ruined things for everyone else.

We had a fan of this story write a NSFW scene, post it over here, and we said very much thank XD But yeah. This is a, more or less, entirely SFW story so for (minus strongly implied grimdark stuff and moments of heavy petting... so PG-13ish). As to Ophelia and Tyene, they have gone exactly as far as is comedically most effective. We intentionally kept it vague specifically for that reason. And about the reaction, it was, objectively, not exactly the most adept trolling. Alvor is just a bit touchy. He will be shamed for his thin skin, yes.

Ljapaubeaves said:
I feel so honored right now for the inclusion of that scorpion^^ Thank you! This is the farthest i've ever been recognized by the author of a Fanfic i was reading and you genuinely made my week!

We consider that scene more or less canon, with the only caveat that we aren't sure if we ever intend to show that part of her childhood in detail. So assume it's 100% canon unless we specifically contradict it and I can't think of what would. And we're VERY glad you appreciated it, because we appreciated your scene immensely. It's stuff like that and masterofmadness's reviews that really do keep us going.[/QUOTE]

Windborne · Aug 4, 2021

Thanks for the answer! Interesting insights on things, though I hope Ophelia will be able to rein in Oberyn from starting a massive war. At least with Robert and Ned. I actually enjoy this Robert. I do hope we get to see big doggos on screen soon though, it'll be fun to see Ophelia's reaction.

EchoDragon · Aug 4, 2021

Scrimshaw_NSFW said:
Emma shows up, we'd probably make her Ophelia's first born just to be extra cruel

It seems like a good day to abandon your first born in a whore house.

Scrimshaw_NSFW said:
Madison a Dothraki Screamer

If Madison isn't born a male, her chances of being more than a women Dothraki mount when they feel horny are slim to non.

Witherlegion · Aug 4, 2021

Remind me. What is different about Ophelia's appearance from Taylor not counting a darker skin tone?

AsTheGlassMelts · Aug 4, 2021

Witherlegion said:
Remind me. What is different about Ophelia's appearance from Taylor not counting a darker skin tone?

She's not an upright frog, or an otherwise ugly nerd in this world. Has looks Emma would slit Madison's throat for. So, she looks almost completely different aside from maaaaaaaybe her hair. I'm not sure any precise comparisons have been made, really.

Scrimshaw_NSFW · Aug 4, 2021

Witherlegion said:
Remind me. What is different about Ophelia's appearance from Taylor not counting a darker skin tone?

She's what Taylor would have looked like if you applied some two thousand years of noble breeding, eugenics, and magic to her DNA.

Oberyn is swarthy to a degree, his TV version much more so than his book version, so she looks more like high Spanish or Portuguese nobility with a dash of Arab or Aryan (think Indo-Persian Aryan, say high Turkic to Armenian to high persian to old Aryan from India).

Of her old self she has her hair, which is just as fine and she wears down to her ankles (she hasn't had her hair ever fully cut since birth and it's only trimmed to stay out of the dirt) and her green eyes.

She does have a strong tan that has been slowly fading, but should return when she goes back south, and her skin tone is darker than her previous life but not so much she might be confused for, say, an Arabic tribal or a laborer.

In short, she is basically the opposite of Emma as Ophelia still lacks curves, but is essentially a genuinely massively refined physical specimen.

This is magnified in that her grandmother was a Lyseni bed slave literally bred for physical aesthetic perfection and her mother inherited her grandmother's beauty.

Ophelia still lacks much in the way of curves and is notably taller than other women and some men, which is less impressive when people like Brienne of Tarth are around, but still remarked upon. her common hair style is a tight braid for simple convenience and her sisters do help her with it.

Compared to her sisters, Ophelia seems to lack the proportions to really rank above them. So, to most people she would seem like a beautiful noblewoman who is lacking in assets. Of course, depending of the area of the world and the eye of the beholder, Ophelia could be considered the most beautiful of the Snakes. But if we were to go with a general opinion, she isn't unnaturally attractive like Tyene is considered to be.

I hope that answers everything XD

Deathwings · Aug 4, 2021

And that's before you take into account her Presence.

Taylor Hebert was described as having a Cult Leader Personality for a reason.

MisterWorst · Aug 4, 2021

Scrimshaw_NSFW said:
Ah, yes, going up to the sons of Lord Paramounts and, as a foreign witch, conducting detailed investigations. What could go wrong?

If he were still to fall of that tower (I know unlikely since he already had a scare on there with QA/Khepri) it wouldnt be to strange for all the Maesters and the visiting witch to offer their help in healing him ... and any kind of healing would involve a deep study of the patient.

Scrimshaw_NSFW said:
Because Tyrion's life is suffering and it's funny to bully him.

now I just can see a scene of Tyrion and Ophelia bonding over "Being Tyrion/Taylor is suffering"
the ammount of strange drinks/alocohols this would produce and would be consumed at the same time would be a sight to see.

On the other hand I always had the impression that Tyrion was a character that not only liked the three W "women, wealth and wine" but also knowledge and stories. So I am slightly suprised that he kept himself away from the Wizard Maester, the Exiled Maester, the excentric Red Priest and the Snake Witch .... seems like a circle of people with a lot of knowledge, power and stories.
wonder if he recognised that Ophelia was parading around alchemical symbols.

Scrimshaw_NSFW said:
But yes, you've met her.

Okay confimation that the other reincarnation is female.

On another note wonder what everybody reaction will be to Ophelias egg hatching

Witherlegion · Aug 5, 2021

Scrimshaw_NSFW said:
I hope that answers everything XD

I think it does. Thanks!
Poor Taylor though, even being the child of an attractive nobleman and a woman almost literally bred for beauty, she still drew the short straw in the curves department.

SoaringJe · Aug 5, 2021

Re-read/catch-up finished. Really cool handling of magic and varied characters with complex histories. Really looking forward to egg-hatching and QA reunion.

my money's on Delilah being Alexandria reincarnated.

Thanks for writing!

masterofmadness · Aug 6, 2021

MisterWorst said:
On the other hand I always had the impression that Tyrion was a character that not only liked the three W "women, wealth and wine" but also knowledge and stories. So I am slightly suprised that he kept himself away from the Wizard Maester, the Exiled Maester, the excentric Red Priest and the Snake Witch .... seems like a circle of people with a lot of knowledge, power and stories.
wonder if he recognised that Ophelia was parading around alchemical symbol

Well like his section mentioned this chapter his reaction to the royal train so far is basically "Oh Gods something on this trip is going to explode and get someone killed, I think I will get duck at a safe distance." The only reason he is here now is his older brother bullied him into preventing said explosion which is a bit of a full time job. Maybe he will find the time and meet her latter since I do imagine he is interested, just as much as in his own safety.

Witherlegion said:
I think it does. Thanks!
Poor Taylor though, even being the child of an attractive nobleman and a woman almost literally bred for beauty, she still drew the short straw in the curves department.

Oberyn: You know Ophelia their was a female version of that spell I cast to grow my pen...
Ophelia: Father if you finish that sentence you will never be in a bed with anything other then biting insects till the day you die.
Oberyn It was merely an offer made out of paternal love.

redaverain · Aug 30, 2021

Scrimshaw_NSFW said:
Reaching up, the far monster cried out something that made no sound yet deafened her and the worm her rode did something blasphemous.

this sentence makes my brain hurt trying to figure out what the fuck it means.

"The worm [she] rode".

you didn't tell us what the worm did that was 'blasphemous'.

and how are you riding a fucking worm

Yupthisisforporn · Aug 30, 2021

redaverain said:
this sentence makes my brain hurt trying to figure out what the fuck it means.

"The worm [she] rode".

you didn't tell us what the worm did that was 'blasphemous'.

and how are you riding a fucking worm

From the context it would be "the worm he rode" (referring to the far off man).

And considering it was also referred to as a serpent, it's pretty clear it's a monstrous "worm" in the medieval sense. So think of it like a wingless dragon of some sorts.

selonianth · Aug 30, 2021

Yupthisisforporn said:
From the context it would be "the worm he rode" (referring to the far off man).

And considering it was also referred to as a serpent, it's pretty clear it's a monstrous "worm" in the medieval sense. So think of it like a wingless dragon of some sorts.

That's spelled Wyrm, not Worm.

Yupthisisforporn · Aug 30, 2021

selonianth said:
That's spelled Wyrm, not Worm.

It can be spelled five or six different ways. But worm is appropriate: for evidence Medieval Worm. Depending on region, culture, or time period it could be worm, wurm, orm, wyrm, or a few other things.

Scrimshaw_NSFW · Sep 3, 2021

AN: It's that time of the month once again folks. Where Wyvern and the Warhawk bring to you more of your favorite Sand-Witch and her weird sisters as they make the world a stranger place!

AtW: It's also smaller than originally planned. Both because I'm rather seriously ill, bleh, and because of school keeping us from writing as much as we want. However, that's also some good news for you guys, since we've decided we're going to post two chapters this month!

We have about 50 scenes planned to take place at Winterfell to cover just the absolute basics of what's going on. Unfortunately, a lot of that is going to have to be cut. That would be anywhere from 100k to 150k just focusing on a week of time spent in the castle. So yeah, we're gonna be moving along as best we can and actually try and speed things up. We'll also be mentioning in story dates next chapter and trying to keep them in mind when we write going forward.

As for everyone else, QQ will be receiving a specific update that is a bit… bluer than our normal chapters. Assuming my embarrassment doesn't stop us, lol.

Chapter 14 - Drifting Ivory and Winter Spell

Ophelia Sand

The wind was cold - biting - and cut through flesh to seek deep into her bones and it roared so loud her bones shook and her own heartbeat was drowned out of her ears. Raising one hand, the warlord felt the earth itself spin under her. A great flurry of white, raging snowflakes filled the world as her breath came out in sharp, painful puffs of frost.

Gone was the soft bed and the even softer bodies of her companions.

Gone was the crackling fireplace and thorough warmth.

Gone, even, was the egg she kept with her at all times.

That bond of life, guttering like a candle in the wind when not fed with her own power, was missing. Reaching out with her powers, her hands, her eyes, she desperately tried to latch onto anything. But in that Hell of white, cutting wind, and ice there was only the blackness creeping up the soles of her feet and along her fingers.

Reaching out, her hands disappeared into the blizzard but, knowing she was soon to die, she forged ahead. Shivering, shuddering, teeth chattering, the nude witch cursed the fact her visions seemed to delight in returning her to her natural state. Even worse was that it seemed to have removed her resistance to the cold and the heat alike, leaving her little better than a normal girl and for all her power she had no means to command the weather.

Not like this, at least.

So she kept moving.

Her will was hardly being tested, the full body sensation of pins and needles was steadily intensifying to a combination of numbness and ache but that was nothing compared to losing an arm.

Even as her fingers turned a blue-grey, she pushed ahead.

Even as the ice under her feet tore her soles to bloody shreds, she pushed ahead.

Eventually her hair froze too, strands locked into clumps, turning frigid and brittle.

Once she snapped a clump off by stumbling, stepping on it, and pushing forwards. And still she kept moving. By the time her fingers and ears and nose and lips were totally numb she had started to feel warm, flushed with heat and oh so drowsy.

Hypothermia, eventually, became a pleasant way to die. So for hours, perhaps days, perhaps years she marched forward, freezing just a little more.

It was as her footsteps began to slow, that her head began to droop that she finally staggered and fell.

Sliding across the ground, the witch took several long, laboring breaths. Her quest was futile, even taking in air was a painful thing, and she had no swarm, so sense of direction, and no hope of escape. Ophelia's feet weren't responding and neither were her toes. So much like ungainly stumps that, getting her knees under herself, she had to awkwardly push herself up.

That, at least, was easy. When she felt pain in her feet again she knew she was steady.

When a sudden, strong gust slammed into her, nearly bowling the witch over, she grew somewhat desperate. However, this obstacle seemed to be a boon as much as a final burst of Winter's Fury. As this great wall of wind buffeted her, so too did it clear away the blizzard, driving back the clinging gale and leaving her world clear for the first time since she awoke.

Standing on a cobblestone path, there were two rows of statues, one on each side of the path all of whom bore swords of iron and knives of obsidian, and behind them was a freely growing winter garden. Hardy blue spruces formed walls of nettles and pine, with red twig trees growing around them, intertwining in a riot of color. Below them were holly trees, below them were firethorns, winterberries, and snowberries. All of this formed a vast wall of boughs and bark, unbroken, and seemed to hold back the storm.

Looking behind her, Ophelia saw nothing, the white expanse ending just behind her as the freezing, cutting cold almost seemed to rage and reach for her - hungry and desperate.

Shivering, though the temperature had become merely freezing, she forced her battered body to look away from the wall of death.

Instead, as she walked along the path, she took in the vast, sprawling garden that filled up the space between the tree line and the statues. There were camelia flowers and hyssop and coneflowers and iris and lily-of-the-vallies. There were cat mints and acer shrubs and onions, scallions, leeks, parsnips, and more. Beets, broccoli, radishes, and turnips seemed to grow wild too - along with a dozen or more other winter crops - and a hundred other types of flowers had woven together between the few shoots of grass that could find purchase.

Snow had fallen on the field, but only lightly, a dusting to sweeten the vegetables, and not enough to strangle the flowers.

Without a doubt, it was a truly beautiful sight.

Made all the more haunting when she looked down at her own body.

The Martell witch knew that, had this not been a vision, she would have been dead. Tendrils of dead flesh crept up the sides of her calves, everything below them already frostbitten. Her arms were almost nearly as bad and she dared not look at her breasts for more than a second. Somehow, after the time she'd just spent with Cersei and Tyene it seemed all the more macabre and terrifying.

Still, her journey was not at an end. So she walked forward. Dragging her feeting, shivering, stumbling forward she walked and walked and walked. For hours she pushed ahead, passing statue after silent, staring statue.

All of them were both alike and different, most shared many features, some only shared a few, but it was clear that it was a statue - man and woman alike - of every Stark that had ever lived. Not the babes, those she did not see, though she thought she heard giggles from time to time. Soft words in a language older than man and the sounds of children at play in the trees - made all the more eerie by the fact that it was the only noise she could hear at all.

"I wonder if the Children of the Forest were more literal than we thought."

Black lips parted and her words were stuttered out between chattering teeth, yet once again the witch kept moving. Even as cats eyes peeked out between the gently waving bushes.

Once again something appeared in the distance. This time it was a wall of stone, with an iron barred wooden gate sat in the middle. Idly, Ophelia noted that it looked like the wall around the Stark's Godswood. If it was a thousand years younger and was covered in frescoes of scenes long since past. From hordes of wildlings, to giants and mammoths, even an ice dragon that seemed to rise up from a frozen lake. All of that and more was worked in colored pieces of stone, set in an unbroken tale of war and heroism and glory and death and horror - ending with Bran the Builder raising the Wall.

With how many of the seemingly legendary figures dying in agony, she wondered exactly how true these scenes were.

"What-" And just like that she'd jumped forward a thousand yards or more. Ophelia had crossed the whole of the distance in the time it took her to look more closely at the images. Ultimately, she simply accepted that this was part of the vision and reached out to touch the gate - itself swinging open at the merest touch of her fingers.

Now the scene changed once again.

Behind her stood the statues of every Stark, arrayed in what she assumed was the order of their birth on the path behind her, and before her was a vast forest. Within it was a small, winding path of snow and dirt, with the whole of the wood being weirwood trees. In the mid distance there were small clusters of rocks and pools of water, unfrozen despite the snow on the ground next to them.

This time there were no other plants, only the bone white bark and heavy red leaves filling up the area. And with it came the first sign of animal life she had seen too.

Sitting up on a high branch was a raven with three eyes. It was large, though not impossibly so, and seemed to carry an aura of age around it. Not so heavy as that of the trees, but older than she who had lived twice by far.

"Follow, follow!" It croaked out.

And so Ophelia did.

After all, this was the same raven she'd seen before and all of her visions had ended with some revelation. A hint of what was to come. So, trusting that she'd probably not die, or that at least there was nothing she could do to escape a trap without springing it, she followed.

Besides, a three eyed raven had particular connotations that she doubted were coincidental.

There was more noise now, more than the now yawning silence of the second part of her journey and less than the deafening roar of the storm from before.

Snow crunched under her feet, there was movement between the trees around her, and the sound of wings flapping came from above. Reaching out with her power, she felt no crow, but rather something… illusionary, phantasmal. But she did find foxes and voles, rabbits and squirrels, and all the animals she might expect in a forest.

Even a few insects hid in the ground, burrowed near the pools for warmth, and in other places where they were insulated against the killing touch of winter.

Her path was both longer and shorter this time. Long in that the sun had fallen to the very edge of the sky, setting the world aflame in orange light, but short in that it passed more quickly than any other part of the experience so far. When it ended she came to a stop before a great heart tree, it's living face dripping with blood red tears of sap, and two men stood before her.

On the left was a gaunt, but still regal man. He wore a tunic of woven oak leaves, had skin that was a rich, deep brown, and had eyes that shined a dull yellow with mirth. His crown was woven from branches of iron and weir woods and studded with amber and flint and obsidian and pearl, at his waist was a great knife of carved bone and a belt of deer skin and brass. It was clear though that he was fading. Thin, like a starved peasant, and with a deep sense of exhaustion to him. Still, he smiled when he saw her, opening his mouth and greeting her with birdsong.

To his right was a boy, or rather a youth. Young, hale, but not yet fully grown. His clothes were made of layered nettles, blues and greens and yellows and blacks, and his skin was a bright, pure white - like sun shining off of snow. So too did his eyes shine, a deep, rich blue, that had an inner light despite their darkness. Unlike his companion, he wore no crown, though she noted one made of ice spun like glass and set with sapphires and drops of gold and covered with the branches of a still living red twig tree. At his waist he wore no knife nor belt, but bore a shield of ironwood and carried a spear tipped with obsidian. His voice, when he greeted her, was like snowfall.

Somehow, she understood that he too was greeting her.

"Listen, listen!"

The crow squawked, so, falling to the ground, Ophelia fought the exhaustion no more. Instead, she sat there and listened and watched.

Snow spun and the trees reached and before her she was shown many things. First was that of a war, between First Men and Children, then of a peace born from mutual need as a great evil marched south. It was a man no longer, but something terribly beautiful. Woven from ice and flesh, bound together with the Children's magic, but gifted with Man's cunning and cruelty. All life died as he marched south

Laying there in that snow, she watched as time and time again the elven snow beasts rose and fell, coming and going like the tide, and how each time they rose they came a little closer to victory. How just a few more fell to stop them. How they were just a little more clever.

She understood that they were telling her this for a reason.

Taylor understood why she had been given a second life.

"So what must I do? Where must I go? And how long do I have?"

Turning to the crow, the two men waited for it to speak. Fluttering to the ground, it took the shape of a man, though an old and weak one, and spoke with a human tongue.

"Fight. My grove in the True North. And not long. Maybe a year. Maybe a decade. Maybe a century. To the Night's King, to his… makers, it is all the blink of an eye."

As he spoke that title, the winds held at bay by the Godswood roared, suddenly pushing inwards and cutting at the beings within. Only at the roar of the two spirits did it retreat, a hundred inhuman faces staring out of the raging winds and clawing cold, but Ophelia knew that much of the life within had died.

So much in fact it had almost shocked her.

What shocked her more was how the King of Oak, for she instinctively knew that was what he was, his birdsong voice had told her as much, cut his hand and watered the ground with his blood. And just like that the death was reversed, the creatures springing to life once again but at the cost of diminishing him even further.

Somehow, the spirits of cold death seemed smug with their beautiful, inhuman faces.

The witch put aside considerations of this magic, of whether it was true or not, or if this was creeping madness, and focused on the mortal man before her.

"Brynden Rivers."

"Aye." He nodded. "You are Taylor Hebert, now Ophelia Sand. My replacement."

Her eyes softened.

"I was born to take up your task when you die."

Hard as stone, he too nodded.

"You or the boy Bran. You would be better, stronger in ways the child could not be." Looking up at the stars, he shook his head. "I had to lead your companion away from this place before she found you, if I had not it would have led him to you. Beware, young child, beware the Old Things that yet dwell in this world."

Looking at the two man-shaped spirits, she earned a laugh from the old man.

"No, girl, these are born of the Starks. Their bloodlines for five thousands years and all the blood spilt by them and bred into them. They are protectors of this place, as much as they can be. Think of them as nameless gods of the trees."

Parting her lips with a rasp, she forced out her final question.

"The Kings of Oak and Holly."

Brynden nodded.

"One to rule the summer, the other to rule winter." He looked up at the sky. "Had Man been less foolish, we might not have needed to fight the wars we do now." Looking back down at her, he smiled. "Be glad the gods of your own blood did not appear, for the Flayer God is not a pleasant or gentle thing. He would have taken you by force, body and soul, but in these walls he is not permitted."

Shivering, the image of a monster in the shape of a man appeared. Something of ice and blood and cutting steel. She bowed her head in thanks to the two Old Gods before her, however young they might actually be.

"Can I help?"

A fox's laughter and the rumbling chuckle of a distant avalanche answered her. She already had. But the babbling of a brook and the soft cry of an owl told her what she already knew.

Blood and Magic would help them.

Thoughts of the egg she protected came to her and she felt a flash of approval from them both. Nodding, she acknowledged the task they had set her. The Bloodraven sighed, though, and took their attention.

"I must go. My grove is being attacked." Turning to look at her, he seemed to think for a long moment before speaking. "If you wish to save the lives of a hundred thousand men, women, and children, earn your allies here, then march North as swiftly as fast as you can. However, without the king's blessing upon you, those under my protection will still die waiting to cross the wall. So don't come until you are absolutely ready. For now I yet hold back the dead."

He was gone, disappearing into nothing, and a black shape vaguely like a crow flew high, high into the evening sky and disappeared.

Bowing, the two kings waited until the shape passed before turning to her and picking up the witch. The youth held her to his chest, and only now did she realize that they were massive, easily greater than ten feet in height or more. 'Or perhaps the vision is changing? Perhaps I am shrinking?'

As they took her to a pool the moon had fully risen and the King of Oak placed his finger in the water, a trickle of immense, ancient power slipping from him as it began to gently bubble. Once life giving heat spilled from it the King of Holly lowered her into it with all the care taken with a babe, being both respectful of her dignity and mindful of the rot in her limbs. Pushed fully beneath it, she struggled for a moment and then went still. Realizing that the cold and the pain and death inside of her was being washed out, she rose, finally, warm and flushed with life once more.

Looking around, she found herself awake and fully refreshed.

Nude, of course, and in the heated pools in the Godswood of Castle Stark. It was early morning and, looking at her body, she found even the bruises inflicted upon her at Harrenhal gone. Her body was not free of scars, a few here and there lingered, and the skin around her fingers had the barest hint of green, but other than that she was fully restored.

"Well. Fuck. There goes my vacation."

Realizing that her range was insufficient to get a message to one of her siblings, the reincarnated warlord resigned herself to some kind of scandal and relaxed into the hot spring.

"You know, the only thing that would make this better is… damn. They really are gods."

One of the foxes she had under her sway had found a bottle of berry wine. Bringing it over to her, she found it both sweet and chilled to perfection.

Taking a deep breath, the young woman tried to do something she hadn't managed since she was Taylor.

Relax.

The world wasn't ending today after all.

Eddard Stark

Cold wind bit through his heavy fur cloak, the sun not quite having broken through the morning fog, and his heavy breeches, even heavier blue tunic, and thick soled boots provided only a moderate defense against the coming Winter bite. It still felt good, bracing, to push his way through the soft, fresh powder and take in the great weirwoods of his family's sacred plot. With naught but the crunch of his steps and the distant sounds of a still mostly sleeping castle as company, he somewhat pondered the absence of animal life.

However, he had much to think on and little sleep the previous eve. In fact, one could say that many were the nights which he spent awake - wondering if there was something he had failed to do. Something that could have been done to prevent so many deaths. Chief amongst them were his father's and sister's, though many other names and faces would feature in these moments of melancholy too.

'The old gods take Brandon though.' Snorting, the grim fate of his brother turned almost light. 'That idiot didn't even wait for me to raise a few of the men of the Vale in our support before he ran off. If the Wolf's Blood hadn't charged ahead without his pack, then the Mad King would have had swords from four kingdoms confronting him. Not a lone wolf pup who thought his teeth bigger than they were.'

Often were the times Ned wished his brother was alive. That's not to say he thought of his brother every day, or even those he lost. He was not a man ruled by melancholy. But he did pray for them. He did write to those who were survived by kin from time to time.

However… every so often… he would find himself in the Crypts of Winterfell and there he would gaze upon faded, dead statues. And feeling one of them himself, he would stand there in silence for an hour or three, only leaving when his prayers and vigil were complete. Sometimes he left his innermost thoughts with them, always he left news of Jon with Lyanna.

But this morning it was different.

This time his wishes weren't born from the guilt of a false son who couldn't even slay the man who caused his family so much pain. This time his wishes were possessed of a selfishness he often thought himself unable to muster as the Lord of Winterfell. Perhaps not dishonorable so much as embarrassing.

Ned desperately wished his brother had been alive.

'Maybe he would have an easier time keeping Robert from acting out.'

Foster brother or not, Robert had grown even more rambunctious than Ned recalled.

Of course, he had never been the picture of temperance, yet the years had worn down what little self control the man had in matters of vice and indulgence. To the point that he wondered if the man was trying to hasten his own demise with recklessness.

Then he saw the man pop one of the mixtures prepared by Oberyn's daughter and wake up the next day hale and hearty.

Truly, the gods had seen fit to play a new cruel trick upon him.

It was little wonder that Robert had been indulging. With medicine as good as that, what little restraint his sworn brother had snapped in half like a twig. With no consequences to punish him for his excess, Robert was now very much testing the limits of Ned's patience. Loyalty or no loyalty.

'That fat excuse of venison cheated.' Rubbing his eyes, the Warden of the North should have known something was amiss when his friend had goaded him into a simple wager during the banquet. Something from their old days in the Vale, when the two were still hopeless youths daring each other to sneak past Jon Arryn to visit the inn or, in Robert's case, the brothel when the man could easily see through them.

And of course Ned had fallen for it.

The consequences of which he was now suffering.

'It's too early for Maester Luwin to be up.'

Too early for him to be up too.

Unfortunately his body had seen fit to rebel under the sway of wine. Something to be said about the vigor of youth. Back when he and Robert used to dare each other, he wouldn't have suffered this much the next day.

Robert probably wouldn't either if not for the aid of the dornish Witch.

'It explains why he likes her so much.'

Unfortunately he was not held so high in the esteem of the Southrons as to be granted a flask of that most accursed of tonics and as such Ned found himself walking through the Godswood. The crisp winds of the morning doing wonders to steady his mind for the coming trials that the royal court's visit was promising.

Besides, the walk would do him some good, clear his mood and the melancholy that seemed to spring up from his nostalgia like weeds in the trestles of the glass houses.

But this morn there was also something… more.

Something almost invigorating which set his blood aflame and sharpened his sight, the by now familiar silence fading as a faint buzzing grew the deeper he walked into the woods. Most curious was a sense of familiarity that brushed against him.

Acknowledgement, perhaps, but Ned wasn't one who made declarations regarding his beliefs often.

The Old Gods were just that. Old. Unknowable forces of the trees and stones and rivers which the grandparents of his grandparents had treated with as much respect as he himself did. But it was a careful respect, politely maintained from a distance.

Like a bear which stirred within its cave. One could feel the breathing of the great slumbering beast if they walked closer to the den, but so much as a single step could rouse it and see you turned into a snack before it went back to it's rest. And as all great beasts of the North, something old and terrible stirred behind the faces carved in wood.

Yes, Eddard would respect them, respect the North as he had been taught to.

There would be trials in the coming times. Challenges which the Seven Kingdoms would be forced to stand before.

"Winter is Coming." He repeated softly, wondering for a moment if it seemed like the snowflakes shimmered in agreement. After all, the words weren't a warning, but an inevitability. An absolute that could only be accepted.

One could prepare for the cold and the lack of food. They could gather lumber and remain watchful of plague and the beasts of the North. Yet Ned felt that this would not be the only challenge he would have to contend with, come the long winter he knew would follow a long summer. Even that the maester's agreed with that much and Luwin, who normally disdained magic, had confessed to seeing unnatural signs in the movement of the birds and also in the reports of disappearing fish. He had claimed that either it was a sign of a truly horrific storm, of which there were neither clouds nor winds nor unusual lights and weather formations out to see, or something entirely less normal.

Something the maester had convinced his lord that should not be permitted south of the Wall.

It was a concern that could not be dismissed, not when Benjen's letters spoke of mysterious horrors lurking beyond the wall. Of vanishing corpses and empty forests and a cold beyond anything he had ever felt before. Because the man was stone cold and sober, firm and with his wits about him. Most of all his little brother wasn't a liar.

Even for the sake of a good story.

But Eddard couldn't afford to jump to the worst possible conclusions, not when he needed to still appear to be in command of his senses. Perhaps the vanishing bodies and the scarcity in animals were signs of another wildling raid. Perhaps someone had managed to organize and unite them, hence the fewer sightings by the Night's Watch. And perhaps the horrors his brother described were a byproduct of forbidden arts long forgotten by their people.

If Dorne could have a Witch, then so too could the ancient savages and cannibals north of the North. And the wonders of the girl child from Dorne aside, the Stark patriarch had most certainly seen her spells the night before, his concerns were in grain, gold, and good men.

Convincing Robert to help, however, was another matter entirely.

"Perhaps his kingly pride?" That was one route but, stopping to feel the bone white bark under his gloves, the Lord Paramount chuckled. "Perhaps. But I fear I shall need something more substantial." Closing his eyes for a moment, he let the almost biting air fill his lungs. 'Relying on Robert alone is a bad idea. I think I will go to the Manderly's, the Foresters, the Glovers, the Reeds, and perhaps the Umbers and Karstarks. They all have something to gain that I can offer them without loss and little reason to mistrust me.'

Frowning, he moved on, disliking having to rely on the cadet branch of the Starks. Once, they had been kin, but these days he felt they were growing… wilder. More like the mountain clansmen they had married with and less like the Kings of Winter they were descended from.

Offering up a small prayer, he gave thanks to the Old Gods that the Umbers were simply as blunt as Robert's warhammer and that he only had to grapple with one Bolton and a misbegotten bastard.

Frowning, he considered what to do with Ramsay Snow for a moment.

Murder, of course, was the easy option - probably the smart one too. If half of what he'd heard then it would be justice for a great many people as well. But the thought sat poorly in the lord's mind. Killing a child based on rumors smacked of the Old Lion and that alone was to force him to forge ahead.

Perhaps prayer would cleanse him of the roiling disgust Tywin Lannister's name conjured.

"Good morning, Lord Stark."

Or… perhaps they would tell him why there was a Dornish girl in the middle of the godswood.

"You are naked." He noted dully.

The witch nodded solemnly.

"Unfortunately the gods did not seem fit to apparate my clothes alongside me for this jaunt."

Apparate?

"I'm afraid I don't understand what you mean."

"People seldom do. The long and short of it is that something in this forest wanted to speak to me badly enough that they had me moved during the night. I've had a very lucid dream about… I'd say half a dozen of your gods. Almost froze to death. And after some kind of secret test of character they rewarded me with this strange hotspring."

Yes, Ned did mean to ask her about that.

The vapors of the warm water kept the young woman's body mostly hidden from sight. Enough that had she not called out to him he wouldn't have noticed her presence at all. However, this whole thing was so absurd that Ned wasn't sure whether this was lucid dream or the waking world just yet, so he opted for averting his gaze and treating the young woman with respect.

"Lady Sand, I mean no disrespect, but that pool is normally pleasantly warm. Sometimes it freezes in deepest Winter. Only the ones nearer the heart tree stay boiling."

He heard the shrug, or at least the water moving from it, and the young woman spoke.

"You're welcome to join me and test it yourself, if you'd like, but I strongly suspect your lady wife might object." The humor in her tone was obvious, but, curiously, it almost seemed serious. "Look at me, Ser."

Shaking his head, he refused.

"Not when you are unclothed, my lady."

Snorting, the Dornish Woman stood up.

"I am aware. And no, Lord Stark, I am not trying to seduce you."

"Of course not." He protested softly. "I would never imply such a thing."

"No. But you've had more than one naked woman throw herself at you. Now, if you don't want to offend my Dornish sensibilities, you'll look me in the eye when we speak. I refuse to speak to a man who can't meet my eyes for fear of seeing a bit of fat and skin"

Somehow, this absurd child was talking down to him! A bastard witch from Dorne, naked, dripping wet in the freezing cold, was talking down to him. An armed Lord Paramount that stood a head taller than most men.

"Without a doubt, you are your father's daughter." Forcing himself to look up, he did find himself somewhat relieved. "Thank you." His smile was awkward, but her's was genuine.

There, instead of displaying her body with wanton lewdness, she stood with her long hair forming a curtain about her shape. It was still scandalous and he found himself awkward with a girl not too much older than his own children presenting her form in such a way, but he still met her gaze.

"So long as you don't tell a lady she's not worth seeing nude you'll do fine." Her crooked grin seemed equal parts challenging and mocking, however it then slipped to a frown. "I'm afraid I do have two awkward requests, my lord."

Nodding, he motioned for her to go on.

"I think I can imagine what they are." Already, he began to undo the clasp of his cloak.

"Joining me after all Lord Stark?"

The Northman gave the witch the same look he used to cow his children when they were doing something foolish. She laughed and slipped back into the water.

"Only my cloak is being removed, fair lady."

His tone brooked no argument.

"Blame my father's blood for that joke. In all seriousness though, my vision was rather clear. I need to go north of the wall. To the North-North, if you will, and I would like to request both an escort and a guide."

Eddard paused, moderately dumbfounded.

"Without a doubt, the Wall is no place for a woman, the wild lands even less so. What they would do to you would be unspeakable, should you be caught."

In this case, the "they" in question went unspecified for very regrettable but equally obvious reasons.

"Yet I must go. Your own dead kin have told me I must go and so I shall. And while I may rely on tricks more than once, this is no Mummer's dragon."

For a long moment he considered simply refusing outright. That would be the sane thing to do. But it also occurred to him that not only would Benjen be going, but that Robert would send an escort along as well. That, combined with her own entourage, would be a considerable force. And he could genuinely use the help as well.

"Perhaps." He closed his eyes, walking closer and laying his cloak down at the edge of the pool. Still in every other layer, from his high collared tunic to his tucked in trousers, to his gloves and scarf and boots, he turned away from the frustrating young woman. "But I would ask for something in return."

"Ooh. A deal with a witch. How dangerous." The teasing was back in the girl's voice and he appreciated the levity, though wished it wasn't directed at him. "Tell me and I will consider it."

"Something is terribly wrong up there, more now than others. I suspect… trouble." He turned away from the lounging girl, walking over to one of the weirwood trees and sitting down with his back against it. "You are a witch and have the king's confidence. Meaning he will likely send some of the best in the realm to watch over you."

"Ah." There was a long moment of silence where the girl soaked and the man would swear her eyes had gone milky white. Eventually, though, her voice resounded. "So whether it be a wildling horde or something less natural, I would be well equipped to investigate it."

When she put it like that his guilt returned full force and, had it not been his desperation for information, he would have withdrawn the offer then and there.

"Then it shall be done." There was a little splashing and Ophelia swam to the edge closest to Eddard. "I suspect it is the gods will, one way or another, and will do my best."

"Thank you."

He hated how his stomach roiled at the thought of sending a child into such a dangerous situation.

"It's not done yet, my lord." She was so soft spoken in reply, nothing but kindness in her tone. "But remember, you do not have the luxury of softness. A million souls may depend on your judgement and you must make the hard choices. Never forget that your privilege is to fortify you for this burden." The witch snorted. "As a horny mummer once said, heavy is the head that wears the crown."

Nodding, the Quiet Wolf agreed.

"Wise, for someone from Dorne."

That earned him a high, clear laugh.

"Perhaps. Though they were only Dornish in spirit. Now, my second request."

Bracing himself for something rather extreme, the first one had been extraordinary, he gave a jerk of his head and signalled for her to ask.

"Would you go find my sisters? Let them know I need some clothes and where I am? You're more than welcome to attend to your prayers first, I quite enjoy the warm water."

Sighing in relief, Eddard Stark was all too happy to agree.

"Of course my lady. As soon as I reach the castle I'll find them."

For some reason, the smirk she gave him this time felt… far more ominous than it should have.

"See that you do, my lord. But, ah, if you see any blondes, it might not be wise to tell them the state you found me in."

Making his way to his prayers, he didn't give that warning a second thought, not even as a small winter fox came up to him and plopped down at his feet.

Elia Sand

"Hmm? Who's that?"

Elia stepped out of the shadows of the small forge, enjoying the way she'd made the blacksmith jump. And definitely enjoying the warmth of the room as it melted the snow from her green and brown cloak.

"Heya Gendry."

Immediately, the young man relaxed.

"Oh, it's you. Close the door though, don't need anymore of that snow getting in here"

That got a tilt of the head before, at a gesture, she moved off to comply. The room itself was a bit stuffier now, but it wasn't too bad, and was shaped a bit like an old stable, made out of mudbrick and a bit of stone, and housed a large number of old barrels, odds and ends, and the currently burning blacksmith's forge her older, taller friend was working at.

"Were you expecting someone else?"

Grimacing, the teenager shook his head.

"Not in particular, but, well, I haven't exactly had much time to focus on my work." Jerking his head at a low burning forge, the Sand Snake noticed a rather large pile of bent nails and a smaller pile of perfectly straight ones. "Master Mott says we need to have things fixed before the king's ready to head south… and that pretty much everyone else is incompetent."

Nodding, the twelve year old immediately understood the problem.

"And no one will leave you alone to work."

She stood there, hands on hips, beaming up at the slightly older boy until he sighed.

"Alright. Stay. At least you don't touch things. I had to stop Joff, er, the prince-" That earned him a giggle. He chose to do the responsible thing and stick his tongue out at the girl poking fun at him. "Yeah. My half brother. I had to stop him from setting the hem of his tunic on fire and the youngest Lady Stark-"

"Call her Arya." Nodding, the young bastard found a mostly clean chair and plopped down in it. "Otherwise she'll just needle you until you do.

That got her a snort of laughter.

"Keep a secret?"

Eyes lighting up, Elia quietly agreed.

"Of course. What do I look like? A Northman?"

This particular statement got her an exasperated sigh.

"Since we're in the North and you still made that comment, I think the cold might have gotten to your brain." Already preparing her puppy dog eyes, her pouting offensive was blocked by the blacksmith's raised hammer. "But I know you. So the secret's pretty funny. Jon, the Stark bastard, came to Master Mott and commissioned a sword to be made, Needle it's to be called, after Winterfell's blacksmith mentioned something about having to work on the queen's wheelhouse."

Humming in thought, and then snorting, the girl realized something very important.

"Master Mott was tired of working on that axle wasn't he?"

The ring of a hammer on metal answered her.

"Yes."

Ding.

"He."

Ding.

"Was."

Ding. And just like that, the nail was moved over to the done pile with a pair of tongs and a red hot one was fished out of the burning coals. What went unspoken was that Gendry was more than happy to bang away at simple nails because - by the gods old and new - was that wheelhouse a frustration.

"I take it there was something you wanted to actually talk about? All the times you came to see me on the trip you asked about the swords my master made or the armor of the knights I was helping to repair."

Frowning, the preteen couldn't keep the sulk out of her voice.

"I can't just come see a friend?"

He glanced up for just a moment, gave her a look like she was insane, and then returned to his task.

"You forget I know your sisters."

Elia opened her mouth and then closed it. Because the fact was that she often grumbled about them during her visits. And, in particular, their thoughts on her youth.

"Well it's not like they ever let me do anything fun. It's always 'Elia, you're not old enough to distract the maester' or 'Elia, you're too young to go see the giant castle'. But I'm old enough to babysit the royals when they're not at their lessons."

Powering through a few nails, the blacksmith nodded along and made noises of agreement. When it came his turn to speak, he turned the particular item he was working on around a few times, gave it a few small taps, then ran it through a small circular metal object with a hole in the middle.

"What's that called?"

"This?" Gendry held up the tool in question. "It's a nail header. I don't actually need to use it since I'm just straightening them out, but this one seems a bit big so I wanted to make sure it fit." Hammering out the kinks in another couple of nails, he ended up taking a moment to chew his thoughts over - Elia knew this because he actually made a slight chewing motion when thinking. "As to your sisters, well, I don't want to say anything bad about them. But you do know they take… a few risks, yes?"

"Like how Ophelia plays with dangerous animals that could kill her with a scratch, Tyene likes to toy with the affections of other people, Nymeria messes with the minds of married nobles and especially their pretty wives, Sarella likes collecting both old books and people's private journals despite being told not too, Obara spends more time wrestling and fighting than she does thinking, and Father finds it funny to poke and prod the tempers of dangerous and powerful people." Taking a breath, she finished up. "Yeah. I know."

Grunting, it seemed like the young man wasn't quite sure how to respond.

Not that Elia blamed him.

'I mean, it's not like Ophelia doesn't do pretty much whatever I ask her to, but only when she already knew everything would be alright.' Her thoughts weren't settled yet and she didn't expect the blacksmith to have all the answers. 'Sarella always loves to bring me along when she can, but I tend to get bored, leave, and then miss all the crazy fun stuff when things get set on fire.'

Finally speaking, Gendry set his hammer and tongs down, having chewed through about half of the pile, and seemed to have chosen humor.

"I think everyone is glad that you didn't decide to take after Lady Tyene."

Making a face, the girl tried to communicate how crazy that particular idea was.

"No, just… no." She wasn't supposed to be old enough to know exactly what it was Tyene did and even Elia knew the blonde got into more trouble than any amount of excitement was worth. "And it's not even because she likes to kiss pretty boys and girls. But she's scary. Though I do know she loves me." Pausing, a bit of hesitation welled up inside of her. Yet, trying to act just like her idol, she took the Bold course of action. "Once she told me that Ophelia loved me best of all and that she was jealous. But that she would never allow me to be hurt, so long as she lived, because I was precious to her and Ophelia both." Not sure how to totally express what she was trying to say, she ended up shrugging. "She's not quite right, Tyene, but she tries to care in her own way. I think I even trust her, but maybe that's because I didn't know her before 'Phelia."

"Your sister Nymeria warned me that, if Tyene ever offered me a kiss, to refuse politely."

Tone neutral, words just loud enough to be heard over the steady ding, ding, ding of his hammer, face marked with sweat and smoke, the blacksmith spoke truly.

"Yeah. That's probably for the best."

Silence, save for the never ending pounding the hammer, fell again after Elia's response and the girl brought her knees up to her chin. In full honesty, she clashed with Nymeria because her older sister would sooner lock the youngest Wandering Snake in a tower than let her anywhere the sort of political intrigue the second eldest navigated like a seasoned sailor. Possibly because Elia's sibling just so happened to be as raunchy as the sailors she saw at home too. And, of course, the firstborn of Ellaria Sand didn't have much experience around people like some of her older siblings did.

Nor was she inclined to bother learning how to play a man like a harp, or a girl for that matter. It seemed that some of her kin were a bit too obsessed with spending time in other people's beds and her goal remained to be a knight one day. Dame Sand to one and all.

Of the older Snakes, Obara was the one she found the most in common with.

Sure, the eldest sister was something of a grouch. Not doing much outside of training herself or training others. But she at least had the same affinity for combat that Elia was enamoured with since she could walk. Out of all of her siblings, it had been Obara that most agreed with her desire to become a knight, the rest seeing it as a bit silly for one reason or another, and even had helped their father train her.

She was Lady Lance after all - a nickname she hoped to one day deserve.

Maybe then she would stop being just 'Elia'.

Elia, who wore the name of a dead woman, the one her parents couldn't speak about without tasting bitter loss. Elia, who wasn't ever allowed to do something dangerous because another Elia died before her. Elia, who was small and weak and fragile and not trustworthy because she was still too young.

She hated it.

Hated that above everyone, Elia Martel's spectre hung over her the most.

It wasn't fair.

It wasn't right.

And more than anything she wanted her sisters to realize she was ready to well and truly be one of them. Not just the tagalong kid from one of Ophelia's tales.

This trip was her chance to prove it. To show everyone what Elia Sand could truly do when she was relied upon. And if she had to watch a bunch of younger kids mingling and playing around to get that chance? Well, she would just have to tough it out and put on her phoniest smile.

What was it that Sarella said again?

'No pain, no gain.'

Then again, looking after the royal children while they mingled with the Starks wasn't that hard. Myrcella and Tommen were nice enough and Joffrey was… weird but nothing she couldn't deal with.

The Stark children, however, were complete unknowns and she had to make sure to know them well. Her sisters would surely reward her if she came back bearing juicy secrets and knowledge about the future lords and ladies of Winterfell. Though something told her that, that wouldn't be the thing she needed to really get them to count on her.

Arya Stark reminded Elia a lot of herself, enough that she had felt the younger girl was a bit of a kindred spirit. Not as a schemer and warlock, but great in the ways that were good, noble and strong both in body and spirit, kind and just and wise, and, above all else, free.

It was such a shame that her family wouldn't let her pursue that passion. Elia had been able to take up the lance because nobody really cared about what the Sand Snakes did. As far as the Seven Kingdoms were concerned, they were just lucky bastards who got to do what they wanted because their father had a soft heart, not that anyone would dare say it to his face.

Their father was known for three things after all: Having a lot of lovers, siring a lot of daughters, and killing a whole lot of men.

It was that reputation alone which prevented most from so much as looking at her sisters the wrong way. Because Oberyn Martell's ability to hold onto grudges and visit painful retribution onto those who slighted him was legendary.

"I have to say, it's nice being a bastard. At least one of Father's. I know pretty much no one is as lucky as we are, but I do have to say it's rather annoying being famous. Perhaps it would have been nicer if the rest of my family knew how to keep their heads down."

Elia did enjoy the added freedoms and wealth and the ability to do what she wanted. What she didn't enjoy, however, were the constant questions.

"What is it like living in Dorne? Do you guys have witches there? I heard there was a witch there. Have you met her?" Huffing, the preteen did as all young children do and expressed a rather amusingly intense burst of frustration with a single sound. "Seriously, you would think all everyone knew about the Martells was that we had magic users in our House."

Gendry snorted at that, not offering more of a comment, and satisfied himself with attending to a particularly stubborn bit of iron.

"There was no way I was that bad when I got to King's Landing or I wanted to speak with you. And now it seems like no one ever stops asking so. Many. Questions. You'd think Northerners didn't need to breathe!"

It would have been impressive if it wasn't driving Elia up the wall.

"It's hot. There's sand. It's coarse and gets everywhere. Yes, there is a witch back home. Yes, I've met her."

So had Arya, for that fact, her mother just wouldn't let her know yet. It had been funny how Nymeria of all people had assuaged the fears of Lady Stark by having Sarella perform her tricks.

"It must be so exciting. I couldn't imagine living like that. Going wherever I wanted. Sounds like a dream."

Elia squeaked when she spun around, finding an annoyed looking Arya stark looking at her from the door of the forge. Gendry, for his part, tried and failed to hold back a laugh.

"Did I not warn you against talking about Northmen in the North?"

Glaring at the blacksmith, the Dornishwoman spun back around to look at the other girl.

"I'm a bastard, Arya. Father loves me but without him things would be bad. No titles or anything. If he died and Uncle didn't like me? Well, I'd be out the gates the next morning. Or worse."

It was a lie, of course.

Because the Sand Snakes had Nymeria and her schemes to rely on. They had Ophelia, who was more important than all their cousins. Buf if they didn't… Arya would be scared for her life.

"I'd give everything to be able to travel like that. Just not caring about stuffy rules and having to be a lady. Sansa is much better at it than me and besides, you get to play with swords whenever you want."

Gods, she was insistent!

"Hardly. I don't play with swords, or spears, or bows, or horses, I train. And even then it's not exactly as easy as Ser Barristan makes it look. Even my Father spends a few hours a day, every day, making sure his skills are sufficient. And don't forget that he's had to pick up his training since 'Phelia got him his new sword. It's not about goofing off."

The northerner girl hummed in thought.

"If you say so. But it's not like your other sisters have much in the way of trouble. Nymeria even got to eat with the king." Huffing a bit, the Stark child crossed her arms. "My Nymeria has to stay in a cage until everyone leaves."

Crossing her arms too, the older of the two girls tried to end the argument then and there.

"I guess we just think different."

"Don't think so. I wanna go out on adventures and have sword fights. You want to have sword fights and become a knight like your sister, right?"

"Arya, Obara isn't a knight. And I'd rather joust than have duels every day."

"Sounds boring. Duels sound much more interesting than trying to push someone off a horse."

The nerve of this brat!

"You're mad. Jousting is way harder than that."

"Sure it is. You hold a stick, run at someone, and if you're lucky you don't fall off."

"Well, you won't be pushing over anyone with those sticks of yours." The dornish girl huffed, pointing at the Stark's rather… unimpressive lack of muscle.

Which of course, got the appropriate reaction.

"I totally can!"

"Cannot!"

"Can too!"

"Cannot!"

"Can too!"

"Uh huh. What will you do, recite House Words at me until I fall over?"

That earned Elia a shove. Which sent her stumbling backwards. Right into the back of the resident blacksmith.

Bran Stark

"This isn't working,"

Bran looked up from the desk he'd been working on, dropping the quill he'd been holding in frustration as he looked at the drawing the three of them had been working on.

Much to his annoyance, it wasn't turning out as he wanted.

For starters, Bran didn't have any aptitude for the fine arts. Something he had never really considered important. Why would he when there was a whole world outside to explore? Unfortunately that mindset had cost him when he found himself needing to draw a picture for the first time in his life.

"I think it looks nice."

The older girl, Meera, smiled lightly, just like she had on the night of the feast.

Her brother snorted, just a hint of bittery mockery in the sound.

"What did he draw, Meera?"

She tilted her head.

"That's the castle isn't it? Seen from above? You can kinda see the walls around the smaller circles, and I guess that wedge over there could be a moat, you can even see the little waves."

"Winterfell doesn't have a wet moat, Meera."

Her mature response was to stick out her tongue at her brother.

"Well, it totally could!"

"It's a face." Bran's own face fell, fingers flexing around the quill, defeat once more creeping up on him. Hardly a new feeling, but one he'd hoped his new… friends would have been able to vanquish entirely.

More importantly, he'd been trying to draw the face of the woman from his nightmare. The one who had attacked him at the tower. Dangled him over the lip of that old, shattered tower without even a hint of effort, wondering whether it was worth the effort of bringing him inside or not.

Even now, he could see her standing there.

The sickly skin.

The green eyes.

The long, raven black tresses cascading over her face.

He just couldn't tell anyone about it. He couldn't write about it. He couldn't even draw it!

'Well, it's not like I was a great artist anyway.' The scrawl he'd presented to the siblings wasn't that much worse than his usual attempts at drawing or painting. In fact, both he and Rickon were still banned from so much as touching paint after they, and their direwolves, had made a rather… impressive mess. Across the entire east wall, top to bottom. Bran still didn't know how he'd done that if he was being honest.

"Can't you just ask someone to draw it for you?"

"He said he can't describe it. Like one of those curses from dad's stories."

Bran nodded, though he didn't criticize the suggestion. As it stood, he was a bit worried that the odd siblings would leave him if he allowed his confusion to manifest too directly. The less said about his night terrors, the better. It had already taken Jon chewing out some of the other boys his age to stop the title "Ser Bran the Chicken" from making its rounds.

He couldn't say anything, even hint at what he had seen. His tongue would end up glued to the top of his mouth when he tried and his fingers cramped when he tried to write out the words. And, of course, everyone assumed he was making stuff up about the nightmare.

His mother most of all had told him it was a sign from the gods to stop climbing the tower.

"If he can't draw it and can't even tell us how that girl looks, how are we supposed to find out what she looks like?"

Jojen stared at her.

"How do you even know if it's a she?"

"Like this." she turned to look at him. "Bran, was the one who attacked you a man?"

Bran shook his head.

"See?" Meera smiled triumphantly, showing the same spirit she'd used to bull him over, pepper him with questions until he submitted, and convince him to let her and her brother help..

Jojen, for his part, only stared.

"Didn't you just say that he couldn't tell us anything about it?"

At once the older girl and younger boy blinked in realization. They had completely overlooked that. Rather, he had been so focused on finding a way to tell them what he knew that he didn't think about telling them what he didn't know.

"Oh."

"Oh." Meera echoed his sentiments.

"Oh?" And Jojen promptly gave them an uninspired look. "Well, let's start from the beginning then. Did the girl who attacked you have red hair perchance?"

Bran shook his head.

"Golden tresses, mayhaps?"

He did so a second time.

"Hmm, oaken like wood? White as snow?" And onwards they went. After all, it wasn't like every single person was unique, so by pointing out the wrong actions, Bran could finally see himself making progress. Though there wasn't much he could say, he could at least say whether they were headed in the right direction.

Height.

Skin.

Eye color.

Clothes didn't work, unfortunately. He didn't know how to describe what he saw the woman wearing, and the siblings quickly ran out of options from him to deny. So they would leave that as it was, being something that looked like a mix between full body smallclothes and armor.

He'd ask Sansa for help with that, but she was ignoring him. She always ignored him when he tried to tell her about the dream. Just like how mother would just smile and say that he was scared over nothing. Even when he could feel… whatever that was digging its claws into the back of his head, feel that unclean breath on his cheek, see the bloodshot pupils, smell the stench of an unwashed body and old blood.

Bran couldn't forget.

He couldn't stop seeing it.

Hearing its words every night.

"So, how does this look?" Jojen passed him a sheet of parchment. The older boy turned out to be a godsend, actually knowing how to draw a straight light and a circle. Much to his sister's embarrassment, who looked to the side with cheeks set aflame.

As it turned out… her drawings were worse than Bran's.

Make of that what you will.

"It's not very similar."

Sure, Jojen had gotten the length of the hair and how wavy it was. But the shape of the girl's face was all wrong. She didn't look at all like a Northerner, and Jojen had only ever lived around people from the North so it wasn't like he knew what different faces could look like. If anything, it made things more difficult.

He'd have to ask Old Nan or Maester Luwin about it later. But for the moment he was just glad their father had brought them along. It was a once in a king's lifetime event after all and meeting the other noble children of the North would be good for them, so they alleged their father said.

"It's just a rough start. We'll eventually get it done." Meera whooped in joy.

"And then what?"

Before promptly deflating.

"What do you mean?"

"Assume we get this done right, what are we going to do with it? Ride from town to town, village to village looking for this mystery girl? Even if she is messing around with Bran's dreams, do we even know where she is?"

The young Stark felt a defeated sigh escape him.

That's right.

'QUERY'

But even so. He couldn't let it go.

Because every night, when he heard that thing speak inside his head he could make out how… desperate it was. Asking him for something he couldn't understand. So he had to assume that what it was asking for, what it was looking for, was the girl it was showing to him.

So he would find her.

Maybe then he would have some answers.

Maybe then he could sleep without being haunted.

M.Hatter · Sep 3, 2021

QA: I'm looking for Host she looks like this.
*Shows intimidation pose #7 in Host's last saved state
Bran: *Sobbing uncontrollably
QA: Wait that's probably not accurate.
*Adds more blood and swaps to intimidation pose #12

Gigifiy · Sep 3, 2021

Scrimshaw_NSFW said:
'QUERY'

But even so. He couldn't let it go.

Because every night, when he heard that thing speak inside his head he could make out how… desperate it was. Asking him for something he couldn't understand. So he had to assume that what it was asking for, what it was looking for, was the girl it was showing to him.

So he would find her.

Maybe then he would have some answers.

AHHHHH!!! I need Queenie to find Taylor! MY OTP!!

One Who is Many - [Worm / Game of Thrones]

Not too sore, are you?

Well worn.

Getting sticky.

Not too sore, are you?

Well worn.

Getting some practice in, huh?

Not too sore, are you?

Know what you're doing yet?

Dedicated ragequitter

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Making the rounds.

Devourer of Stories

Experienced.

Your first time is always over so quickly, isn't it?

Believe in me!

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Questionable French Guy

Your first time is always over so quickly, isn't it?

Your first time is always over so quickly, isn't it?

I trust you know where the happy button is?

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Red, The Long Dong of the Law

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Writer of Words

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Alcohol solves all... Most... Some problems

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