8 Chapter 8: Earthsingers

Robert guffawed as he watched Gerion Lannister get punched by Maege Mormont square on his jaw. His wife's nuncle had boldly put his hand where it was not welcome and got a bloody nose for his trouble.

"Take that you bloody Southern. Next time you try something like that I'll have you swallow your balls after I cut them off."

Robert could hear the she-bear threaten the youngest sibling of Tywin fucking Lannister and that made him laugh hard.

He was not the only one.

The strong and sturdy Greatjon was also roaring out his approval. He always found it fascinating that the Mormonts were allowed to do as they do in the North. As far as he knows, the Mormonts are the only House that allows their women the freedom to pursue a martial lifestyle in the Seven Kingdoms except for Dorne. Those desert dwellers must have gone mad with living in scorching heat for so long. Maybe, this was the case for the Northerners as well seeing as they have been living in bone-chilling cold for centuries.

For whatever reason, only the Bear Islands seems to be comfortable with sending their women into war.

"It seems the Northern bears are more ferocious than the lions of the West." Robert said amusedly as Gerion Lannister sat back down rubbing his reddening nose.

"She's just unfamiliar with us lions." said Gerion, waving away the servants trying to treat his nose.

Robert liked the man. Out of all the Lannisters, he thought Gerion Lannister is the only one with a likeable personality. The rest of them were greedy lickspittles looking to hoard power and influence in his court.

"Here drink this." Robert offered a chalice full of wine to his wife's uncle. "It is a strong batch of Dornish red. It should dull your pain and your embarrassment."

Robert smirked and laughed uproaringly as Gerion drained the chalice in one go rather than the usual uppity style these blond-haired cunts portray. Case in point, his wife was a marvel when it comes to drinking wine in a sophisticated way. That was the only time his wife managed to excite him a bit. Most of the time her stellar personality drained him of any feelings for that shrew of a woman. Cersei, when she opens her mouth, always demands something from him. She also thinks that she and her family is the Seven's gift to the world and everyone should treat them as such which made his skin crawl.

At least, there are a few good apples in the colossal tree that is House Lannister, Robert thought eyeing Gerion Lannister.

A man who can hold his ground while filling half his belly with one of the strongest wines is trustworthy in Robert's eyes.

"Don't you think you have drunk enough your grace?" asked Eddard, disapproval shining out from the Warden of the North's grey eyes.

"Ha! You know me, Ned. I'm only three pitchers in and I can go further." said Robert, draining a cup full of wine. "Besides, there is nothing to do here until Stannis arrives with my fleet."

"Come join us, Lord Stark. In this world you've got to enjoy life as much as you can cause happiness is fleeting." said Gerion Lannister.

"What he said." said Robert raising his wine cup in salute. "Come sit by my side and stop calling me 'your grace' all the time."

"We are no longer little boys running around the Eyrie pretending to be knights Robert. You are the King." Eddard reminded, even so, he took a seat to Robert's right.

"Don't you remind me of that Ned. If I had my way I'd be travelling across Essos cracking skulls rather than sitting on that pointy chair all day long listening to whiny courtiers." Robert growled thinking of the shit-stained capital and his bitchy wife. Thinking about that made him drink two more cups of wine. in quick succession.

Robert considered himself a simple man. He has very few likes and was mostly happy with his lot. He loved to drink wine and fuck any wenches he could get his hands on. There was also his recent hobby of crushing skulls of men underneath his warhammer. He would have baulked at killing a few years back but ever since the Rebellion he loved killing people. Each time he swung his hammer he thought of that rapist inbred ponce's chest caving in. This had let him sleep soundly at night no matter how many lives he took.

Killing, fucking and drinking was also the only way to alleviate the guilt and loss he felt. He had fought a war that ravaged the Seven Kingdoms to save his one true love, Lyanna Stark. At the end of the war, all that was left of her were bones and a few fond memories. Those inbred shits took his heart from him and he would never forgive anyone with the Targaryen name. Perhaps, he'd have forgiven Rhaella Targaryen's remaining two spawns if Lyanna had survived. But now, he lived to see the last seeds of the dragons be wiped away from this world. Then he could rest easy and hand over the ruling of the Kingdoms to Jon till his son came of age. Till then he'd have to sit on that stupid chair.

"Robert, remember your duty. If not for you the entirety of Seven Kingdoms will fall into a constant state of warfare." Eddard cautioned.

"Pah! You are like Jon. Always talking about duty and honour." Robert waves away his friend's concerns.

"Jon is wise." said Eddard.

"On that, we can agree. This is why I left him in charge at the Capital." said Robert. "Enough talk about politics. What is this I hear about your son making Valyrian Steel swords?"

"Yes, Lord Stark. Word is that your son made a full set of Valyrian Steel armour and two swords in a single day. Is there any truth to such rumours?" asked Gerion Lannister.

"I could speak all day on that issue but I think it's better if I show you." said Eddard.

A few moments later Robert was marvelling at the work of art before his eyes. He was standing inside Ned's tent where the suit of armour made of Valyrian Steel was on full display. The craftsmanship on the armour was beyond compare. Although the armour remained pitch black he could see intricate patterns of wolf heads etched on the surface. The customary ripple pattern was also present authenticating that the armour was indeed made of Valyrian Steel.

It has always been his dream to own a Valyrian Steel sword. He preferred using a warhammer but he knew there was none to be found. The only way he could get a Valyrian Steel warhammer was by reforging Valyrian Steel swords and daggers. He was no good in finances but even he knew it'd be horrendously expensive to melt down Valyrian Steel swords and daggers to make a full metal warhammer. Truth be told he was incredibly jealous of Ned cause he got to wield a Valyrian Steel greatsword.

But now, there is an opportunity before him to get a magnificent warhammer made of Valyrian Steel. The good part is there will be no incest ridden dragon spawn involved in making the Valyrian Steel. The fact that a Stark of all people had unlocked the secrets behind Valyrian Steel felt like another snub against those sister fuckers.

For Robert, it felt like the gods Old and New were finally in agreement to snub those dragon spawns by gifting the secrets of Valyrian Steel to his friend's second son. But he was not the only one to be impressed by the work of art sitting inconspicuously before his eyes

"Not since the fires of Doom devoured Valyria has there ever been a new Valyrian Steel artefact been made. This is a wondrous accomplishment Lord Stark." said Gerion Lannister, never taking his eyes off the armour. "I had always wondered how the Valyrians managed to create Valyrian Steel. The Maesters say there was magic and dragon flame involved. Obviously, they were wrong, or is there a hidden dragon in Winterfell Lord Stark?"

Robert noticed the fearful look on his friend's face.

"Oh, come on Ned. You don't have to fear those giant fire breathing monsters. They are all dead." said Robert, shaking his head at how easily scared his friend was when dragons were involved.

Robert knew his friend had a fear of fire ever since the Mad King had Rickard Stark murdered with wildfire. Perhaps that's why Ned looked frozen with fear. So, he decided to cheer up the man away from darker memories.

"Tell you what, I find myself curious how your son accomplished this historic feat. After we crush these squids I'll travel to Winterfell and see your son's work with my own eyes. Maybe I'll even have your son make me a weapon." Robert suggested.

"A wonderful idea, your grace. I've been planning to travel the Seven Kingdoms. The North would be an exemplar place to start seeing as it hosts one of the oldest cultures in the known world, not to mention the Wall." said Gerion.

"There you have it." Robert happily crowed. "Once these Ironborn bastards are beaten back and I have Balon Greyjoy kneeling before me we all go to Winterfell."

Robert could feel giddy at the prospect of visiting Winterfell. There was no Jon Arryn to hold him back and he could disappear into the wildlands of the frigid North without worrying about some random trouble surfacing in that shit-filled capital. He'd also be far away from his nagging wife which is also something he looked forward to. In the past few days, despite being surrounded by members of his wife's family, he found himself enjoying being far away from his wife's reach.

"Robert, I don't think..."

"Oh, shut up Ned. I'm your King and I'm ordering you to prepare for my arrival in Winterfell." Robert ordered.

It was one of his brightest moments to pull his position as King over his friend. He didn't like to lord over his position but sometimes it helped he was the King of the Seven Kingdoms. The reluctant acquiescence from Ned was proof of this simple truth. It was good to be King.


Winds howled as it blew across the snow-covered landscape carrying sleet and bone-chilling cold. Harry could feel the chill in his bones despite his fervent attempts to use his magic to ward off this horrible cold. Yet, his attempts were in vain. His magic remained unresponsive and fear settled deep in his mind.

Looking around he was confused to note nothing remained in his line of sight except for the snow. The high walls of Winterfell were nowhere to be seen. Even the bustling courtyard or the dark alleys of Wintertown were beyond his line of sight for some odd reason.

As he waded through knee-deep snow he was confused and angry. Outside of seeing an occasional tree covered in snow, the whole world looked like it got painted in white. Even the clouds were stark white. His arms were shaking uncontrollably while his legs felt like they weighed a few tons. He was struggling to drag himself in this frozen hell he found himself.

After long hours of trek, he finally found a cliff. To get a better lay of the land he waddled over towards the cliff while wrapping his cloak tighter. The closer he got to the cliff the worse the cold became. At one point, he nearly fell over when his legs refused to budge frozen by the cold.

Somehow he managed to put himself in a position where he could look down the cliff. Snow was everywhere and the blizzard kept visibility very low.

Harry suddenly frowned when he noticed something moving in the distance. He strained his eyes to get a better view and all of a sudden the blizzard dwindled clearing up obstructions to his vision. Harry nearly stumbled back as he looked at the large army of what seemed to be inferi gathered down below. All of them stopped moving all of a sudden and turned their crystal blue eyes towards his direction.

For the first in a long time, he felt fear settling inside him. He tried so hard to use his magic out but it refused to budge. Without his magic, he felt like he was crippled.

"Wha...? What is this?" he muttered in horror as he looked beyond the assembled inferi.

In the far distance, he could see a sea of inferi marching down from a hill. There were thousands upon thousands of inferi but that was not the worst part. There were giants, bears, lions, wolves, leopards and many other creatures all of them with matching blue eyes.

All of a sudden a raven flew towards him which made him stumble back. The raven settled on a boulder and began crying, Dead! Dead! Dead! Dead!

Strangely enough, the raven had three eyes instead of two. When he stared curiously into the raven's third eye on its forehead everything went black.

With a gasp, Harry jerked awake from his slumber with sweat rolling off his forehead. Letting out a breath of relief he calmed down while eyeing the book on his bedside table. He had fallen asleep last night heavily engrossed in the tales of the Long Night. No wonder he was dreaming about inferi or as the First Men called them, wights.

"You were not dreaming Harrion Stark."

The childlike voice shocked him and he blanched when a small creature sitting in his open window came into his view. It had chestnut coloured skin, clawed hands with only three fingers and a thumb. The large yellow slitted eyes of the creature glowed ominously in the dark. While overall the creature had an ominous look the flowers decorating its black hair gave it a sifter appearance. Not to mention it was dressed in tree leaves and vines.

"The Children of Forest?" he whispered.

"That's what your ancestors called us but we are far older than mankind could ever perceive. Men, they are the children. Not us." The creature claimed as it jumped down from the window into his room's floor. "Our name in the True Tongue means those who sing the song of the earth. For ten thousand years we have sung the song of nature while your kind ravaged this world with cruelty, greed and conflict."

"Earthsingers!" Harry muttered, frowning in thought. He had come across their kind in the Amazon forests of Earth in his travels.

" What's your name? Why are you here? " he asked, stepping out of his bed while discreetly summoning the Elder Wand into his hand.

" You can speak the True Tongue? " the druid sounded impressed.

" I speak the tongue of noble serpents. " he hissed back.

Voldemort may have been one right prick but he was indebted to the Dark Lord for passing down the ability of Parseltongue on that fateful night. The ability had come in very handy in his travels across the world.

The creature seemed to straighten up and gave him a waist-length bow.

"Greetings speaker. My name is Pollen. I've come here to aid you Harrion Stark. The three-eyed-raven believes you to be the key to destroy the Others. "

Harry rubbed the sleep out of his eyes and shook his head.

"Three-eyed who?"


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