7 Unexpected Visitors

AUTHOR'S NOTES; TW FOR VIOLENCE, ONLY A BIT! It's kinda funny that I put those when I know I'll never be as brutal as canon lol.

Hey, I bet y'all are shocked to see me so soon, but I've had some time, so here I am. How y'all been? Good I hope? The support on the series, but this fic in particular, is wild. Probably my most supported fic so far and I can't thank y'all enough for it.

By now, you guys should know this is the 4th work in the series, but each work can be read independently. What you might not know, though is that I'm on fanfiction.net, AO3, and Webnovel! So, read where you prefer 💙

Y'all are freaking great, and I'll see ya soon.

Discord!

https://discord.gg/eTbWC3ByZW

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"The wind is still biting, Milady," Nahsa murmurs, handing me a fur lined cloak. "Please, wear this."

"Thank you," I give the older girl a small smile, playfully tweaking my personal servant's red braid. I glance down at the direwolf and dragons wrestling at my feet, smirking at the way the dragons' are dogpiling Frostbite for warmth. The direwolf is growing faster, but soon the dragons would be massive.

I breathe in the crisp air, happily meandering towards the heart tree we're being directed towards. Leaving Winterfell had been harder than expected. Not only is being away from my family, excluding Bran, difficult, but the farther we traveled from home, the deeper into the range of other Siphons we got. It was blatant, too. Not only were the dragons and wolves agitated, but my ability to sense my surroundings using ambient magic isn't usable if there isn't any fucking magic around, and my pathetic eyesight has become a progressively bigger issue. Right now, we were close enough to a Siphon that I need someone to guide me lest I run into something. Even more problematic, the lack of magic made me legitimately feel ill. I was kind of a frail child, something I hadn't noticed had changed after the Awakening, but here, only a few days from White Harbor, it is obvious. It's a bone deep exhaustion, the kind that makes your head throb, your gums tingle, hands shake, and your guts churn. Even Bran, who wasn't exactly an experienced magic user himself, could feel the difference.

"We're close," I announce grimacing at the near painful sensation. The Siphons we'd found on our tour of the North have all been near heart trees, and gods p we already found three.

"This one should return magic to White Harbor?" Bran asks, and I flinch at his sudden materialization, unable to sense him in the slightest.

"Maybe not all of it, but probably at least New Castle," Marwyn grunts, and I startle again, not having noticed the Archmaester's shift in position either. Ser Cregan huffs, seemingly having had enough and scoops me up into his arms, his cold armor still oddly comforting. Father had gone perhaps a bit overboard with our retinue, so here we were with Winterfell's best knight and Master of Arms and a small army, plus a few of the more advanced mages. Additionally, as a sign of loyalty, whichever lord's lands we were traveling through would send a group of their own soldiers as escort until we passed, often with a representative of their own House leading it. Lord Wylon Manderly's and his heir Wyman had personally come to join us for this part of the journey, having traded out with Lord Cerwyn and Lord Hornwood and their respective daughters a few days ago, and were now haunting our trek through the woods with the utmost interest.

"Has there been any new clues about the origins of these Siphons?" Lord Wylon asks, his voice rather high pitched and sweet for such a large man, and that plus his good natured attitude and green hair and beard, I found myself growing fond of him. Although, I do think they might be taking my title as "messenger of the gods" a bit too seriously.

"The runes on them are utterly ancient and difficult to see and even harder to decipher. It's definitely The Old Tongue, with perhaps some Ancient Valyrian, but the objects are so deteriorated that it is better to wait until we have the remnants of several to verify and compare the meaning," Marwyn grumbles. "As for the Who and why…"

"I humbly ask that you leave it be for now, my lord," I interrupt. "Know it is not a matter of trust, for we truly don't know those answers yet, but rather than speak on it, I wish to investigate a few theories and see if the gods have any wisdom for me first."

"Of course, my lady," Lord Waylon responds, sounding almost reverent and I resist the urge to twitch. The Manderly's were one of the few Houses that follow the Seven in the North, but it would be inaccurate to say they did not worship the Old Gods as well, especially considering their House naturally intermarried with worshippers of the Old Gods near exclusively. I wonder what he thought of me, a divine messenger more associated with the Old Gods then anything else, that made him sound so awestruck.

Perhaps the Manderly's thought I was messenger of the Old and New gods, when I am, ironically, neither, since I actually served the primordial forces of existence, merely partaking in the practices of the Old Ways because I could feel the magic in them. 

"Spread out and search," Bran calls out to our men who scattered around us, used to looking for Siphons by now, and I realize we've arrived when Ser Cregan sets me down and helpfully presses my hands to the smooth, pale bark of a heart tree, letting me brush my fingers over the crying, carved face, feeling the sticky sap collect under my nails.

I plop down at the base of it, immediately getting climbed all over by my bonds, huffing tiredly when I get fur in my mouth and claws prickling my thighs. It takes only half an hour for this land's Siphon to be found, buried in the roots of a nearby tree where Marwyn and the mages accompanying us felt the draining sensation the strongest. This was the third Siphon we'd found already, and after the first one, I've been making the mages find them themselves so they could learn, and they've gotten pretty proficient at sniffing them out. I could have the dragons set them on fire to destroy them, but that would destroy the runes for study and Marwyn would weep, so we use a small Valyrian dagger on loan from House Dustin, a thank you for saving their daughter from marrying Roose Bolton.

Bran pulls out the dagger, knicks his thumb on it to draw blood, (which is necessary for evoking and or enhancing the blade's magic, apparently), before preparing to pierce the section indicated by Marwyn. Nahsa crouches next to me bracing her hands on my shoulders, Ser Cregan taking up a similar position for Bran. The mages and soldiers duck and hunker behind trees, Marwyn himself diving hilariously behind the heart tree I'm resting against. When I see the confused, still standing Manderlys, I quickly call out to them. "My lords, I recommend you brace yourselves. The backlash can be quite dramatic."

The Manderly's were a gregarious, jolly bunch, but foolish they were not. The mermen and their guards scramble, following the Stark's retinue's example.

Bran lets out a savage battle cry as he drives the dagger down, and the world lights up as magic explodes outwardly. The rush shakes my soul, making me feel like my skin is struggling to contain it all, but this time, I manage to stay tethered to the earth, the here and now instead of flying off into the unknown of the "what has been" and the "what could be", unlike the other times we've broken Siphons. With a heart tree at my back and mentally prepared, I forcibly keep myself from spiraling into the aether of chain visions, though I do still catch a few glimpses. I huff a breath, feeling the physical and mental weight of the newly released magic pressing down on me. Nahsa's fingers dig into my shoulders as we are forced back a bit, the girl still doing her best to support me even as the wind whirling about us steals the air from our lungs. I do my best to ignore my wildly blowing hair and focus inwardly, ignoring the howls of wolves and squeaky roars of dragons and the rest of the chaos around me until the wind dies down.

When everything settles, Bran pops back up from where he was being covered by Cregan lest he get sent flying. "Is everyone well?"

'Seven hells! Is it always like that?" Poor Lord Wylon seems to have fared badly despite our warning, guessing by the wheeze he lets out.

"Sometimes it's worse," I remark, allowing my body to relax now that I can sense my surroundings once more, magical echolocation finally working again. I reach once more and smile as my fingers find the now grinning mouth of the heart tree. There is a whoosh and I sense Bran sends a fireball into the sky with a gleeful laugh. "Careful, Bran. You don't want to accidentally start a forest fire."

"Sorry!" He calls out sheepishly, but freshly energized nonetheless. His wolf pup, the feisty Bloodbringer saunters over to pick a fight with her brother, and I can tell that they and the dragons seem to be in a much better mood now with magic around them once more.

As everyone drags themselves to their feet and dusts themselves off, I feel 5 new presences at the tree line. My brows furrow as I focus on them. How odd. Why do they feel like that? There was something very strange about the way magic was moving around them, although nothing was ringing the danger alarms in my head.

"Luna?" Bran curls an arm around me, breaking me out of my thoughts. "Everything all right?"

I humm, turning to touch the heart tree again. "Yes, I just need some time alone to pray. Can you send everyone away for a while?"

My big brother narrows his eyes, watching me intently, something I can't see due to the darkness of my vision, but that I can feel easily with so much magic in the air. After a moment, he sighs. "Fine, but guards will be nearby just in case and Bloodbringer will stay with you as well."

Bran might be brash and reckless, but he was no fool and had been trained as heir all his life. He quickly diverts the Manderly's and wrangles some of our retinues into spreading around out of sight of the clearing so that I'd have privacy and security while the rest would follow him and the others back to where we left our caravan. He even drags a complaining Marwyn bodily off by his chains, scoffing that he can study the heart tree another time and that the Archmaester should quit making a nuisance of himself for me. I focus on the presences, even as I urge Nahsa away, and then Ser Cregan, and then Marwyn when he managed to briefly escape Bran, and I am now sure no one else can see or feel them as the five walk over to stand behind me even as others pass them obliviously.

"So these are the Siphons?" I turn to lean against the heart tree, its face a few inches above my head as I rapidly blink the remaining shadows and blurriness from my eyes, catching sight of the tall, beautiful, olive skinned young lady, now that my eyesight has cleared a bit. I am far less fair than my siblings, an incredibly odd skin tone for anyone in the North, but she is even more so. Is she Dornish or maybe Essosi? No accent, though…

"I never would have thought the backlash to be so… dramatic." This came from lad who, shockingly, is very likely a Targaryens of all fucking things, the bright silver gold hair a dead give away for the Valyrian heritage, but his red and black clothes were even more so. I raise an eyebrow at how they don't seem to realize I can see and hear them, feeling vaguely amused.

"We've never seen one either." An auburn haired boy around Bran's age murmurs, gesturing to a slightly older girl whose features screamed Stark, both of them notably younger then the other three. Oh, ho, this keeps getting more interesting.

"Is this why we're here? What we needed to see?" This came from the last boy that stood in the middle. He also seemed like a Stark, except for one singular detail that stood out distinctly to me; The ends of his hair were silver. Just like mine.

The final puzzle piece falls into place as Bloodbringer tackles Frostbite, and rather than smacking into the newcomers legs, they roll right through as though the five aren't even there. I smirk, "I was also wondering that."

The group freezes, all of them going wide eyed and slack jawed and I snort, amused. "That… she-"

"It's impossible, right?" The youngest boy asks, hand going to grip the Stark girl as he looks around. "There's no way she means us, right?"

"She's not making eye contact," the Stark girl denies, brown her swaying as she shakes her head fervently.

"She never makes eye contact, her eyesight is too poor," The Targaryen refutes, sounding somewhere between horrified and awed as he stares and I keep my face blank as I compartmentalize how well this stranger knows me.

Instead of dwelling on that unsettlingly information, I laugh, going on the offense. "I can, in fact, see and hear you just fine, so please do tell, why children from the future have come to See my present?"

"Oh, fuck," the oldest girl, wheezes. For a moment, I question my instincts, wondering if this isn't somehow Elia Martell and Rhaegar Targaryen of the present considering both of their bloodlines were known to have magic, but the ages and features are off from what I've gathered of my greendreams.

The, likely, future princeling further confirms my theory when he grabs hold of the boy with my hair, smacking him repeatedly, incredulous. "This is madness! Isn't she too smart for someone that small?"

The boy in the center finally breaks his silence, tilting his head back, a hand coming to cover his face as he lets out a laugh, warm and full bodied, drawing shocked looks from his companions. "I'm honestly not even surprised."

I grin, coming closer, excitement bubbling up and squeezing my chest. This boy was family, likely my son or descendent. The Stark girl, too, and while I couldn't tell with the rest, I'm feeling quite pleased. The boy kneels down at my approach, his smile soft and I don't hesitate to pour magic into my hands and cup his face between them, feeling terribly soft by how much he resembles an older Ned. His eyes widen at the contact before he just laughs again, placing his hands over mine. "I'm not even going to question how you're managing this."

I smirk. "Darling, don't you know who your mother is?"

He snorts before sighing, shaking his head in exasperated amusement as we both ignore the sputtering and choking. "Did my hair give it away, mother?'

I brush my fingers across his cheekbones, feeling my heart swell, only slightly disconcerted by my strong feelings for a future child who is more than twice my age at the moment. "That, and this little Stark I don't know," I point at the girl who giggles, seemingly entertained by the princeling and Dornish girl's ongoing mental panic. "And, of course, the odd way time is bent around you. I've been around plenty of Greenseers, and I am one myself. I know what it looks like when someone is looking backwards through time rather than forwards. As for why I can see and touch you…" I shrug. "The gods' favor works in mysterious ways,"

I'd never been able to do this before, but I'm not particularly surprised either. Weirder shit has happened.

"Not that I'm not ecstatic to meet you lot, especially you, my beautiful boy," I add winking and patting his cheek for a final time before stepping back. "But, do you truly not know why you're here?"

"No, Aunt- OW! Arya-"

"Shut up, stupid!" The Stark girl hisses, having smacked the youngest boy who I'm starting to suspect is her brother or cousin. "We can't go telling her things! It could change our past and then maybe we wouldn't be born!"

The Targaryen boy swears, crouching next to my son, turning to me with worried eyes, and I wonder why he is putting his trust in me despite my young appearance. Hmm, it seems I get quite close to the Targaryens in the future if the princeling is looking to me for guidance. Maybe Lya and Rhaegar still… Oh, dear, I'd better keep an eye on that. I follow my instincts when the young royal reaches to take one of my hands in between both of his. "Will this damage the past, m-my lady?" 

I quirk a brow at that subtle mistake, but decide to leave it be. "Unlikely. Time isn't easily rewritten. Most probably, this meeting was always supposed to happen and the me of your time will remember it, or a separate reality has been created and-" I huff at the confused stares I'm getting. "Don't worry about it. I'll handle it."

My child, (Good gods, this is a ridiculous situation-), perks up. "You did say there was something we needed to see. You must have known!"

I shrug once more. Even I am entirely out of my element here. "I cannot say for sure, but this does sound like one of my schemes. Even still, Arya," I can't help the sudden bark of laughter as I realize there is a fair possibility the girl is named, at least partially, for me, "-is correct, it's best that you do not say much."

My boy, who, had it not been for the hair, I would have assumed to be an older Ned or his son, merely nods, adoring eyes on me and it made me want to pinch his cheeks. In fact, all the kids seem to look at me like that, even the Targaryen who is grinning at me with mischief twinkling in his eyes, as he stays crouched at my level. It's a weird day when a dragon kneels to speak to a wolf. I resist the urge to show the smugness on my face. Damn, looks like I've done well for myself in the future if I've gained so much influence that a prince has this level of respect for me. Well done, future me. This whole "messenger of the gods" thing seems to have really paid off.

Heading back to the heart tree, I step around the pups who are now wrestling with the dragons. "Perhaps I was warning you that it was possible, albeit extremely dangerous or useless to try to interfere in the past?"

"No one else but you can see us, though, and we already knew that would be dangerous." The Dornish, (-Gods I wish I could ask their names-), girl points out, pulling her black fur cloak tightly around her. Perhaps she's visiting the North to learn about her magic?

I hum, unsure as I let my senses spread. A chill heads down my spine, and my head snaps up just as my beasts begin to growl. "Fucking hell."

"What is it?" I ignore the visitors, whistling sharply. 

"Bloodbringer! Get help, pup, go!" Thankfully, the wolf doesn't hesitate, sensing the urgency, and takes off howling into the woods. Malice brushes my senses, and the sensation of the intent to kill has me whirling to put the time travelers behind me as I face the incoming threat, cursing the fact that traveling into range of Siphons leaves me blind to the future until my magic returns after destroying them. Sahaar, always the more aggressive of the two dragons, shrieks, lighting the ground in front of me on fire with flames all the colors of sunrise. It's not much more than a few feet around me, but the heat is still scathing and it will let me put something between me and the men coming through the trees. Without looking, I bite out my words to the intangible watchers. "Someone's coming. Do not distract me."

"What-"

"Silence!" The prince hisses, even as he and my son gather the girls and younger boy between them protectively, despite the fact that I'm the only thing that can interact with them right now, and in less dire circumstances, I'd smile at that.

"Who goes there?" I call out, eyes narrowed as several men slip through the trees, my body stiffening. There's no way this many men slipped past my guards unnoticed… a traitor?

"Witch," one of them spits at me, and I narrow my eyes, unimpressed by their jibes and jeers. Well, this is going to go badly.

"I prefer mage, but you're not entirely incorrect." I take in their weapons and white robes, and nudge my warg bonds behind me, settling my stance more firmly,even as I attempt cordiality. "Now, what are some Septons doing with weapons in this place of worship for the Old gods?"

"Filthy, savage, tree worshiping, little bitch!" One of them snarls, and I hear some outraged whispers from the future travelers behind me. "Look at the creatures she has with her. It's against the Seven. We must bring the Father's justice down on her for her black magic!"

I huff, more irritated than scared now. After all, magic had just been freshly awakened here and I could feel it pulsing in my veins, desperate to spring free. With my attempt at politeness wasted, I decide not to bother. "Firstly, this is the North. You can fuck off to the South with that bigotry if you dislike the Old Religion so much. Secondly, don't frame the abilities given to me by the gods as something evil because you're scared and your gods have not blessed you the same way."

"Oh, hells. My lady, please don't antagonize them!" the silver prince hisses, panicked, and even though he has a point, I shoot him a sharp look, one mastered after lifetimes of raising children. Apparently, even on such a young face, and the fact that the boy was almost certainly royalty and practically a man, it is still effective, since I hear his teeth click shut. Heh, still got it.

"I'm not cruel so I'll offer you a bit of mercy since I do not relish the idea of your deaths because of your ignorance." I let ice seep into my voice as I watch the enemies trying to surround me, shifting to keep them away from my back, even if I don't actually need to see them when I can sense their every twitch. "I will remind you that the Mother champions children and that the Maiden would deplore the harming of an innocent who has harmed no one. The Warrior favors no craven assassins, and the Crone would call such recklessness foolish. The Father will find no justice in this, I assure you, and you should pray to the Smith that your weapons and armor are enough because this will cause all of the North to turn against you. Continue as you are and you will find yourself making an early, painful journey to meet the Stranger,"

For a moment, the clearing becomes eerily silent, several auras fluctuating with uncertainty, but alas, idiocy wins out in the guise of valor. "Oh, the little creature knows of the Seven!" A man that looks like the leader chortles mockingly. "What does a heathen like you know of mercy?"

I do my best to look him in the face with utmost sincerity. "Enough to know that I'll be the only one offering it to you. This will be your only warning. Choose wisely."

The man explodes in impotent rage at my unbothered demeanor. "You- you're spreading your foul ways and poisoning the people! You demon! Magic has left this land so your powers are unnatural and against the gods themselves! You-"

"Be silent, fool," I growl icily, gathering my magic under my skin, patience officially all used up. "I have no need to hear your petty, inane ramblings. How dare you presume to know anything about Magic or the gods! You have two options; leave your moronic prejudice behind and walk away now or suffer the consequences of attacking a Stark of Winterfell."

"Careful, Aunt Luna," the youngest boy whispers worriedly behind me, my guests still fearfully watching, and it warms me to hear their concern, happy to know that one day my family will grow.

And I'll be damned if I make a bad first impression on them now.

There is a moment of uneasy silence before the men pull themselves together and I feel adrenaline flood my veins, bracing myself for the pain and fear that won't be mine, resigned to the fact that I cannot change their minds. "Kill that cursed thing!"

I feel an arrow finding a hand and hear the twang of a bow string being pulled on, and I find my first target just as warnings are called out behind me. Lightening rushes through my palms, leaping from my skin in a blue arc, slamming into the bowman's chest and sending him flying. The demeanor of my attackers abruptly shifts from righteous anger to terror.

"Monster! It's a monster!-"

Another Septon charges, trying to go around Sahaar's still burning flames, his sword raised only to get a face full of black flames from Saiya, sending him screaming to the ground as his flesh melts. Worried that someone will sneak up behind me, or try to get at the pup or hatchlings, I slam my foot to the ground, creating a barricade of shimmering spikes of ice to surround me and buy time even as I create a platform under me to raise myself and my companions ten feet into the air and out of reach, just in time for one of the clergymen to impale themselves on it, white robes and ice turning crimson. I grit my teeth under the force of the agony and horror as the men panic. Being able to feel the emotions of your own victims isn't pleasant, but such is the price of my powers.

"Gods above," someone whispers as a howl comes from the woods, Bloodbringer leading the charge as my guards come rushing into battle. I pant, flexing my hands and forcing myself to calm. If I hadn't just been flooded with magic from a Siphon break, this might have gone worse. Frostbite curls around my back and Saiya and Sahaar cling, tearing holes in my cloak.

I can hear Bran's enraged screams and notice Marwyn go zooming past swinging his rod like a battering ram as he knocks away an axe wielder who is hacking away at my little ice fortress, and I grimace at the sound of Valyrian steel making contact with bone. Ser Cregan appears, slashing so fiercely that his opponents abandon their attempts to get to me and flee. Ironically, that just has me feeling safer. Sighing, I turn to the five Greendreamers still watching from below. "I don't know what my future self wanted you to learn from seeing that, but I hope you learned it."

They stand curled together, shaken and trembling, and I'm overcome with regret that they witnessed such brutality while feeling helpless to aid me, something they didn't seem used to despite their age, but perhaps their time is more peaceful then this one. Even I, who had killed and died and even seen Death many times before, felt a bit sick by the ongoing carnage and turmoil below. However, my heterochromic future spawn, merely gathers himself, shoulders setting and back straightening, and I feel my lip twitch in something like pride.

"Why?"

"Why what?" I ask tilting my head, ignoring the alarmed look I'm getting from Ser Cregan who is defending me from the ground below.

"Why offer them so many chances? So much mercy?" The prince interjects, his face contorted with anger, surprisingly strong, on my behalf, and I realize what lesson they might have needed.

"Every life is precious. Humans have the potential for great evil or good and to cut the possibilities short… It's such a pty, a waste. I know not the story of each man here, but I would prefer not to be the reason the world misses out on something beautiful simply because killing is often easier than another solution, especially for the powerful, like us." I tilt my head, trying to articulate my thoughts while looking down at the group still gathered below my platform before my voice sharpens. "Make no mistake. Sometimes killing is necessary, especially to protect, and these men will likely face execution regardless, but they will do so after being judged and tried. Kill when you must, but never relish it. Have mercy when you can, but do not let it stop you from doing right. Both killing arbitrarily and letting evil rampage are weak in their own way. So,… be strong."

I go to say more, but after a moment, my mouth falls shut, and I wring my hands a bit, feeling like I've been rambling. I am also suddenly missing an adult mind with better capabilities for eloquence. My youthful form makes me feel more like a bumbling toddler.

"Lady Lunarya, I think I understand why the gods chose you," the princeling murmurs, his voice wonderfilled, and I feel bashful as I wave it off.

"Your time is up, I think," a feeling settling in my gut with certainty even as the magic around them shifts. "I hope you got what you needed, and I love you, blood of mine. I will happily await the day we meet again."

"You don't know us," my son teases gently and I scowl at his disbelief, feeling the automatic desire to scold him.

"Silly lad, did I teach you nothing? I protect what's mine, and you lot seem to be, to some degree," I wave towards the Stark girl and younger boy who had both indicated I was their aunt. "When the snows fall and the white winds blow, the-"

"-lone wolf dies, but the pack survives," all five reply in tandem with me, pleasantly surprising me with their knowledge of the Stark saying as they slowly begin to fade.

"My lady?" Cregan says hesitantly, eyes wary. He totally thinks I was talking to myself like a mad woman.

"Ser Cregan, I ask that you forget what you just witnessed since I was speaking to someone through greenseeing." I tell him sheepishly as I look at him over the side of my platform before I make a slide of ice, allowing me to quickly scoot down the platform, two dragons and a wolf following me.

Ser Cregan merely sighs as he catches me and settles me in the ground, going to checks me over for injuries, but in the blink of an eye, my brother is slamming into me, his hands shaking as he frantically pats me down, twisting me this way and that before pulling me back into his chest and attempting to squeeze the life out of me, and I can feel his heart pounding against my head. His dark gray eyes are positively frosty when he grips my face in his hands, dropping his head and forcing me to make clear eye contact, and I realize he probably thinks I saw my attackers coming and deliberately shooed everyone off so it could happen, which I actually hadn't. "Explain."

The last I hear of the young seers is laughter at my predicament on the wind. Little shits, the lot of them.

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AN; Whoooo, so, I'm gleefully waiting for the guesses on identities of the them crotch goblins and their parents. Also, be aware that familiar characters do not necessarily mean that they have the same parents as canon and Luna is visually impaired! She definitely doesn't see everything, nor are her guesses always accurate!

This chapter was fucking fun, though, and has been living rent free in my head since I started this fic. For those of you who want to call bullshit, note 3 things. First, Bran was able to influence Hodor to create a time paradox, so it is possible. Second, Luna has lived some extraordinary lives, so time travel honestly won't phase her. Lastly, yeah, she isn't a normal mage bc the gods favor her and sometimes they pull shit like letting her see and touch the visitors. Why? Sheer entertainment, lol. Expect more situations like this, though, probably no more future visitors.

Lastly! I want to interact with readers more so… comment your favorite ASOIAF/GOT character!