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[BONUS] Winter Comes Pt. 9 (GoT SI)
🕑 Added 2017-09-26 06:11:38 +0000 UTC A/N: Next chapter might be a full on Rickar Interlude, or it might just be Rickar scenes intermixed with True North scenes as usual. I haven't decided yet. Also I assume that White Walkers blush/flush purple in case anyone was wondering.-x-X-x-
I pulled and of course the greenseer magic resisted. But I did not let that stop me. While there was so very much power still laid into the foundations of the magnificent seven hundred foot tall Wall over my head, it lacked one very important thing. It lacked an intelligence, a will of its own to defend itself with. I was not fighting another man, another sapient being. And I was not simply wailing against an immovable stone like a child.
My fingers moved and my magic moved with them, slipping into cracks here and there, bringing with it the frost and the cold and the winter. I widened the cracks, I gripped down on the Children of the Forest’s last great act… and I simply pulled. The Wall’s magic did not come away quickly. It did not disintegrate or tear apart all at once.
Instead I had to work my way in and take it apart bit by bit. This was more than likely a good thing. I could feel the rumbling all around me as I did my work. I was causing a localized earthquake all along the Wall. There would be damage and there would be deaths. Hopefully my Chosen would manage to keep themselves safe.
It did not matter. I moved slowly and because of this, the Wall did not come down atop my head. It would have been a pain to dig myself out of such a thing. Instead, the magic came away in metaphysical inches, sliding off of the greater spell in fragments. Piece by piece, I shredded the greenseer magic and piece by piece, those shreds, those remnants, they joined with my power.
That was after all, the greatest strength of the White Walkers. It manifested itself in the army of the dead most notably, but here it was just as useful. A White Walker takes a man’s strength and adds it to their own. Usually in death, as a corpse becomes yet another soldier in the army of the dead. Now though, the same effect was applying itself. The greenseer magic came away and then turned on what was left of itself, working alongside my own magic, suborned by my own magic, controlled by my own magic.
As I destroyed the Wall’s magic and consumed it, I grew more powerful. It wasn’t something I’d expected, but ultimately the absorption also wasn’t something that I was going to try and stop or avoid. I worked and worked and worked, until finally, it was done. My hands closed into fists and my arms fell to my sides. The great rumbling over my head stopped as the land and the Wall settled down.
In my mind’s eye, I knew that it had worked, but admittedly, there was no physical evidence of what I had just done. All looked the same in the tunnel as when I had begun, though there were a few fragments of rock across the tunnel floor. I was probably lucky that the whole thing hadn’t collapsed on me, even if the Wall itself was in no danger of doing so.
Still, that wasn’t where my mind was at. My attention was focused on my hand as I lifted it up and slid it forward. Where before, my fingertips had begun to smoke from the Children’s last act of defiance, nothing happened now. I stepped forward, placing my entire arm and then my torso and finally the rest of my body through the space where the magical barrier had once stood.
It was gone, but then I’d already known that. Still, to think that I’d just ended the imprisonment of the White Walkers just under six thousand years earlier… it was an amusing thought. I looked down the length of the dark, dimly lit tunnel, towards the direction of the south where the rest of Westeros lay. I looked… and then I turned around and walked away. An uneasy quiet lay in my wake.
-x-X-x-
To say something was wrong would have been an understatement. The Lord Commander of the Night’s Watch knew something was wrong. The damn Wall had shook for seven days and seven nights. An entire week had passed of constant tremors, never ending, never ceasing. Until suddenly, they had. Not before more than a few brothers of the Watch had fallen from on top of the Wall. Not before a couple of the older castles had taken structural damage.
From the reports the Lord Commander had been given, the Wall itself had experienced no visible damage. The great barrier that served as the Night’s Watch’s greatest tool against their enemies beyond it still stood and in the end that was all that really mattered. And yet… something was still wrong. It was as if there was this thing, a thing that had been there, invisible and unnoticed.
The Lord Commander knew from the looks he saw on the faces of his men that he wasn’t the only one who felt it. A loss that they could not place permeated through every brother of the Night’s Watch, every man on the Wall. It was as if they’d all been hearing a song in the far backs of their minds for many a year, only for it to be abruptly snuffed out.
Background noise, abruptly no more. It bothered the Lord Commander of the Night’s Watch immensely. He was growing old and he did not know what to do in this situation. He could not range north of the Wall for that would spell certain doom for any brothers who did so. He could not go south of the Wall for aid, because foreigners had invaded Westeros and the North rallied to face them at the Neck.
The elderly Lord Commander sat in the great hall with the rest of the Night’s Watch, ostensibly to have a small victory feast now that the tremors had stopped. A celebration had seemed in order, even if none felt like celebrating. As the old man looked out over the hall at a seat of black cloaks and furs, he let out a slow, frosty breath.
His Watch would end soon. He could only hope that his brothers would be ready to carry on without him when the time came. It was the duty of every Lord Commander to leave the Night’s Watch better than they had found it and in a position to continue once they were gone. It was to his shame that the Night’s Watch had declined in the time since he’d taken his vows. It was his curse to not know if his men would be able to continue properly without him once he was gone.
-x-X-x-
Rickar frowned as his father walked out of the tunnel. He stood with mother and Ayla at his sides and when the Night King looked up and saw them, he seemed surprised. It was Lyanna who spoke for them as she stepped forward, her tone frosty and short.
“What did you do?”
Father looked at them all blankly for a long moment.
“How did you three know where to find me? How did you all get here so swiftly?”
“Father, you were gone for a week! We were able to follow you here easily once your absence was noted.”
Another surprised blink from his father, even as Lyanna shot him a look for speaking out of turn. Rickar gave his mother an apologetic look, but could not bring himself to fully back down. He needed to be a part of this, especially if there was something wrong with father.
“A week? Truly? It felt like an hour at most. Huh.”
A growl left Lyanna’s throat and she stalked forward to plant a finger in the Night King’s chest.
“What. Did. You. Do?”
Rickar shut up at that point. Speaking out now when his mother was like this was never a good idea. Of course, his father always seemed to ignore her anger in a way that no one else could. The male White Walker just smiled and gestured back towards the Wall.
“I destroyed it. The barrier penning us in, it’s gone now.”
Lyanna gasped while Rickar and Ayla exchanged incredulous glances before looking up at the gigantic structure still standing before them. Rickar spoke for himself and his sister.
“The Wall still stands Father.”
That got a laugh, but not from their father. Instead, it was Lyanna who let out a startled burst of laughter as she turned to their children, a wide smile on her face.
“The Wall is not what held us back my son. The Wall is… was simply the representation of the Children’s Magic. The greenseers worked alongside Brandon the Builder to place magic on the foundation of the Wall when it was still being built, a magical barrier that would keep any White Walkers from crossing. That is what your father has destroyed. Isn’t it my King?”
Rickar had never heard his mother sound so worshipful of his father. The Night King looked a bit surprised too by the husky tone in Lyanna’s voice.
“Indeed my Queen. Though… not in front of the children.”
Lyanna glanced back at them and only then did Rickar realize what he was seeing. An almost-intimate moment between his mother and father. The young-by-comparison White Walker blushed a bit and Lyanna let loose a throaty chuckle… then her entire attitude did a one eighty as she suddenly spun on the Night King with wild eyes.
“… Why did you destroy this barrier now? What are you planning? Is this… are we beginning another Long Night?”
Rickar stiffened and Ayla did the same beside him. Both of them knew of the Long Night, even if they had not been told the specifics of what exactly stopped them from going south of the Wall. They knew the circumstances of their mother’s kidnapping and the fact that father had gone south, very, very far south in order to slaughter the Children of the Forest where ever he and his forces could find them.
Truth be told, Rickar was not that attached to the humans… they were useful and he liked the ones that lived beyond the Wall as they were obedient and subservient, but if father DID want to lead another Long Night south and kill the rest, Rickar wouldn’t truly mind. Ayla on the other hand…
“Father! You would not dare!”
Ayla loved humans. Even if she loved Free Folk most of all, she still had a soft spot for the short lived creatures. Rickar rolled his eyes as his sister moved to join their mother in glaring their blinking father down. Rickar prepared to take his father’s side if it proved to be necessary, but the Night King just shrugged.
“I have no desire to invade south of the Wall my dears, none whatsoever. The Long Night was my revenge on the Children as I’ve always said. The humans are my descendants, Lyanna’s descendants. I wish them no ill will, even if I would love dearly to go and destroy the godswoods that they all still pray to. No, I did not destroy the barrier for myself. I did it for you.”
He looks to Rickar when he says that, surprising all three of them. Blinking dumbly, Rickar steps forward and cocks his head to the side.
“Me, father?”
The Night King nods, casting a glance towards both Ayla and Lyanna.
“Though of course, the two of you may utilize this gift as you like as well. But I suspect Ayla is happy with her Free Folk friends. Lyanna, you have seemed content with your toys as well. It is Rickar that I have worried for. The boy has yet to bed a woman. Or hell! Even a man!”
And now Rickar was blushing deeply, even as both his mother and sister turned to regard him with considering looks on their faces.
“F-Father!”
“It’s not right son, you hear me? Sex is one of the greatest joys in this world! Your mother certainly knows that and your sister does as well! But you with all your projects… you need to get laid!”
Even as his sister sputters at being called out by their father for her promiscuousness, Rickar is left speechless by the Night King’s words. And then his mother betrays him as well.
“You’re not wrong my King… still, why can he not find such pleasures here in the True North?”
“Given he’s had a few centuries now, I’d say he isn’t going to find a bride up here my Queen. I’m sure there’s someone out there for him, and I suspect he’ll find her in the south. Given the war and the fact that your family and their bannermen are focused entirely on preparing to meet the Andals, this is the perfect time for him to go on a little expedition.”
His mother looks half-convinced already while inside, Rickar is dying of embarrassment. His sister is no help, she’s subsided into standing hunched over, arms crossed over her chest and glares directed at anyone or anything that so much as glances in her direction.
“… It will not be safe for him. Even with the focus on their southern border, if they see him they will try to kill him.”
“It will certainly be dangerous, but over eighteen centuries have passed since they last received a report of a White Walker. I strongly suspect that the men of the North no longer carry dragonglass daggers at their waists. The things are weak and brittle if used on anything BUT us and our wights. Speaking of which, I figured I’d send a portion of the army with him as well. Wights can blend in with surroundings much better than living men can and he knows how to control them well by now.”
Rickar seriously could not believe this was happening. Especially when, as if summoned by his father’s words (they probably were, damn it) wights began to spill out of the woods around them, assembling around the family of four. Rickar could feel his father reaching out and handing him the mental reins so to speak of the small force of reanimated corpses. Begrudgingly, Rickar took it before looking to his mother, hoping she’d ultimately come down against the idea. Instead he found her looking at him intently.
“… I do want grandchildren and Ayla has yet to run into a man she considers worthy of ascension. Rickar… go south for mommy and find yourself a woman you can spend the rest of your life with, all right? Your father will turn her when you get back and then you can see about putting a baby or two in that belly of hers.”
… This was not a conversation Rickar had ever wanted to have with his mother. Rather than argue further however, he ducked his head and agreed, wanting the humiliating moment to end. It did with his agreement thankfully, and the next thing the White Walker knew, he was being guided down the tunnel by his father. The Night King had an arm around his shoulder and a squadron of corpses was shambling along behind them as they walked.
“Now, I do want you to pick up some things from my Chosen while you’re down there all right? When the time comes, I’ll let you feel them and you can either send the packages back with a couple wights or you can hand deliver them to me yourself when you return. Don’t feel like you have to make a choice and come back quickly though. Take your time Rickar, sample the local cuisine… and maybe try some of their food as well.”
Rickar blushed yet again at the innuendo and then scowled when his father laughed and clapped him on the back. Desperate to change the topic, the White Walker focused instead on the other part of what the Night King had said.
“These packages… what are they father?”
Here, the Night King grinned, stopping in the middle of the tunnel and clasping his hands on Rickar’s shoulders, turning him so that they were facing each other.
“Knowledge my son, knowledge! I know how much you like my journals. You’re quite the reader aren’t you? Just like me, once upon a time. My Chosen have gathered information on these foreigners. They fight unlike anything the First Men have ever faced, with weapons and armor and other items that the First Men have never seen. Their secrets already belong to us; they just don’t know it yet. My Chosen will rendezvous with you in the North and give you what knowledge has been gathered so far. Then, once you’ve returned with the woman you intend to make your wife and you’ve done the deed a few times to satisfy your mother, you can start pouring over the information alright?”
For the first time since this whole affair had begun, Rickar actually felt a little excited. His glowing blue eyes had gone wide the second his father had started talking about foreign knowledge and unknown secrets. Grinning widely, the young White Walker nodded.
“Alright father. You can count on me.”
The Night King just chuckled at that.
“I know I can my son. You’re my own flesh and blood. I’ve always been able to count on you. That said… I must warn you not to come back without a bride, I may not care so much about it, but your mother is quite enamored by the idea now… I would hate for her to turn you right back around because you’ve returned without a woman.”
Rickar winced at the idea, remembering the look in his mother’s eyes as she’d mentioned grandchildren.
“… I will find someone father. Someone worthy. And if there is no one worthy, mother will have to accept that.”
His father laughed again and Rickar was glad for it. Then the Night King hugged him close and he quickly returned the firm embrace. They parted ways and Rickar gave the other White Walker one last nod before continuing down the tunnel with nothing but the dead for company. It took a little while, but eventually he made it to the other side of the hidden tunnel, sliding his way out of the tiny crevice that was its entrance. The undead came after him, but now with nobody intelligent around, Rickar felt a bit better about trying this out.
Licking his lips, the White Walker focused inwardly, drawing on his magic. This attempted ‘spell’ or whatever one wished to call it, was based off of little more than his father’s ramblings about a city halfway across the world called Asshai, and the beings that lived there who went by the name ‘shadowbinders’.
In Rickar’s opinion, ice and shadow went hand and hand. His father had speculated rather vaguely about something called a Red Priestess only being able to change her appearance from old to young, not because of her faith in some Lord of Light, but because she was also a trained shadowbinder. Rickar was NOT a trained shadowbinder.
However, he was a White Walker, naturally born and innately powerful. He stood above men and he’d always known that. Rickar did not need to know how something worked to make his magic obey him. He flexed and it did its best to obey. Looking down at his blue hands, the White Walker watched as the pigment receded, leaving him with pale, human flesh. Not truly human of course, as he still did not feel the cold on his extremities.
Still, he could feel it and knew the change, while only skin-deep, was all over, not just his hands. He’d done it. Rickar had successfully disguised himself as a human. With a bark of laughter, the White Walker sent his wights away, having them melt into the surroundings as he began to move along. They would follow after him, but now with this new look of him; he suspected he would not need them.
A smile on his face, the son of the Night King headed south. The first White Walker to go beneath the Wall in over two thousand years. Even the embarrassment of having to find a bride could no longer diminish the excitement Rickar felt. His adventurous spirit, something he hadn’t even known he had, reared its head and roared with approval.
This was going to be fun.
-x-X-x-
I was fairly confident Rickar would do just fine south of the Wall. And he probably wouldn’t mess anything up either I figured. What could one White Walker do? He’d grab a girl and he’d receive the packages that my Chosen were even now relaying amongst themselves towards the North. With Theon Stark and his army preparing to meet the Andals at the neck, Rickar would more than likely counter little resistance, so long as he stayed smart. And my boy was definitely smart.
In the meantime, without Rickar around, I needed to find something to pass the time. I’d spend much of the last few centuries simply advising him on his projects as he had King-Beyond-the-Wall after King-Beyond-the-Wall give him living labor for them. My army of the dead continued to build shit in the North, but really at this point I had automated castle building and I’d done every possibly design I could think of a dozen times over. The Land of Always Winter was filled to the brim with structures both big and small.
The only concerning thing was that I still hadn’t run out of room. The Land of Always Winter seemed to go on forever, but that was impossible. At this point, I was mostly just having the army of the dead build solely to reach the end of the land mass, where ever the hell that was. In the meantime, I supposed it was best for me to take over whatever Rickar had been doing before I’d essentially convinced his mother that he needed to find a woman from her old lands.
Now the current King-Beyond-the-Wall stood before me. Was it bad that I didn’t know his name? Well, he did bear my mark so I suppose yes, it was bad. A quick thought later and I had it. Yarghar. Nice name.
“So then Yarghar, what was my son’s next project?”
The King-Beyond-the-Wall bowed low and then lifted up the long rolled up piece of paper. Rickar’s plans, I presumed. These days, the position of King-Beyond-the-Wall was still the most prestigious role a Free Folk could aspire to, but it’d ultimately been reduced from “leader who unites all Free Folk to attack the Wall” to a glorified construction foreman or supervisor or whatever. Might be time to find a way to say their title without it being so wordy. King-Beyond-the-Wall… it’d never been very accurate anyways. I was the TRUE King beyond the Wall after all.
Regardless, this Yarghar fellow unrolled his plans and spread them out on the big table before me. I took in the thing and a slow smile spread across my face as I realized what I was seeing. The True North already had a couple of these, but nothing on this scale. There were boats of course and small harbors littering both sides of the True North. Nothing this grand though. Nothing that would allow me to send ships across the Narrow Sea to Essos. I was suddenly having all sorts of ideas as I stared down at the plans in front of me.
“Oh this… this has promise.”
I’d built so many castles and palaces and even some towers and citadels and a few cathedrals (I’d never quite figured out stained glass.) but in all my time in the north, I’d not done this yet. It was to be full blown harbor city, complete with docks for massive ships and the like. It would in fact be the biggest settlement the Free Folk would have once it was done, if one did not count the giant palaces I had my ever growing population of utterly loyal Thenns living in. Yes, this I could help out with. And wouldn’t my son be surprised to find it already completed without him, once he returned home.
Nodding decisively, I looked to Yarghar and smile wickedly.
“Let’s get to work.”
