2 Chapter 2 WALYS
" " Dialogue
-- -- Internal thought
«» Written note or letter
*** Scene break
() Author's explanatory note
Dedicated to Duncan_Randar and his fiction "Game of Thrones: Paladin of the Old Gods"... Please come back.
Ned sat within his father's solar, trying not to avert his gaze from the gray eyes that were staring at him seriously with evident suspicion.
"So you'll tell me why you insist that the next maester sent should not be from the Westerlands or the Reach?"
As they both remained silent, Ned began to recall the events that led him here.
Flashback Scene
One month ago
Early in the morning while the Stark family was breaking fast in the main dining hall.
"My lord, a raven from King's Landing and one from the Westerlands," said Maester Walys as he offered a scroll.
"Thank you, Maester. Please join us for breakfast."
Taking the first letter, Lord Stark read slowly before taking the second from the Westerlands.
"What news from the capital, Rickard?"
"Apparently bad news," he said with a grimace as he glanced at his wife's belly for a moment.
"Princess Shaena Targaryen was stillborn."
"That's terrible. The queen must be devastated with no one around, both the king and the prince are at The Rock with the Lannisters."
"The other letter informs us of Tywin Lannister's assumption as Lord of The Rock following his father Tytos's death."
--With fewer dragons in the world, the fact that the lions are now led by the ambitious and ruthless Tywin Lannister is worrying, especially if what happened six years ago is any indication of what he is capable of-- Rickard thought, sharing a meaningful look with his wife and children. --It seems I need to accelerate the plans--
"It would be wise to reply to the letters promptly, my lord," Maester Walys said to Lord Stark.
"You're right, Walys. I'll go to my solar in a moment."
"But Father, today you promised we would go to Wintertown to see the city," Brandon commented.
"I know, little one, but bad news comes like snow in summer. Instead, how about helping me with matters of lordship today? We'll cancel classes with Walys and you'll accompany me to my solar to review where your knowledge lies. Perhaps I'll let you hold Ice."
"Great!! Brother, did you hear that? Father will let us wield the Stark sword. Of course, if we have to cut something, I'll go first since I'm the oldest."
"Breathe, if you speak any faster, I won't be able to understand you. And Bran, that's not exactly what Father said. I think he meant holding the hilt while he holds it... but sure, if you convince him to let us wield ICE, I don't mind letting you go first. I'm already thinking of several things we could cut with it."
"Hehehe" x2
"Come on, children, finish eating. You won't have the strength to wield Valyrian steel swords and ride dragons," Lady Stark said, rolling her eyes.
***
"Come on, Brandon, it's not that difficult. You just have to remember how Father's banner-men are, most of them embody their house's words. For example, when you think of the Cassels, what do you see? I, for one, see how loyal they are to the Starks, just like their motto 'LOYALLY WE SERVE AGAIN.'"
"Oh, I see, you're right, brother. It's easier with that. That's why Lord Bolton's gaze seems to want to cut me, just like his motto," Brandon replied.
"That's not..."
"That could be one of the explanations, son," he said, laughing, and gave a warning glance to Ned not to resolve the misunderstanding.
"Well, on another topic, Ned, I see you've nearly mastered the essentials. The maester informed me that you were brilliant, but I didn't realize to what extent. As for you, Brandon, you're still far behind your brother, and you're a year older, so you'll have to work harder, understood?"
"Yes, Father."
"Don't worry, Father. I know that next year, when Bran starts training, he'll stand out a lot like I do with books. He's just a bit dim when it comes to running, hehehe."
"Hey, I'm not dim, it's just very difficult to read and read. Besides, I'm already a better rider than you."
"You're not better than me; it's just that my pony hates me, the darn thing never listens to me."
"That's enough, Brandon, continue with the lesson, and you, Ned, why don't you go to your mother? She must be in the kitchens or maybe in the gardens."
YES, SIR!! X 2
"Mom, mom, hi!"
"What happened, my little one? Weren't you with your father in matters of lordship?"
"No, mom, father says I'm way superior to Brandon and that I don't need to study," Ned replied with his best smug face.
"And humility is a virtue too great for your little body, it seems."
"No, it's just too small to reach my head. Ouch!"
"But your mother still reaches your head, it seems," Lyarra Stark said, laughing charmingly after giving her son a gentle tap on the head.
"Hey, mother, now that I've learned all of Maester Walys's lessons, do you think I could have a reward?"
***
Walking through the streets of Wintertown alongside his mother and a group of escorts, Ned enjoyed the life of the sparsely populated city. It wasn't winter yet, so the city was not even half its capacity, but still, the few people who inhabited it gathered and came out of their houses for a moment to bow before their contingent. Some people even greeted his mother with a bit of fanaticism. One thing Ned noticed was that there was not a hint of fear in their eyes despite the number of armed people following them. Among all those people, Ned glimpsed a woman no older than 15 years old walking with a basket. The ordinary sight, however, was overshadowed by the fact that she had a silver pendant that gleamed with a green light.
"Mother, do you think I could explore the city a bit on my own?"
"Of course, little one, but take at least a few guards with you and come back in an hour. I'll wait for you in the square."
"Of course, Mama, but Duncan will be enough." --Taking too many guards would be a hassle--
"Let's go, Duncan, but put on your hood; we're incognito."
"..." He just looks at the boy and puts on the hood.
Walking with his escort, Ned moved curiously, slowly following the woman whose necklace emitted a green light.
"Can I help you, my lord?" the woman asked, turning around and looking suspiciously at the intimidating giant with a hood and the boy beside him.
"Hello, sister, I'm the one who asked my escort to follow you. I apologize if I startled you," Ned said, removing his hood and revealing his youthful features.
"My Lord Stark, I apologize if my behavior offended you," said the woman, suddenly kneeling.
"You can call me Eddard; Lord Stark is my father, and you didn't offend me in any way. Please, get up."
"May I know why you were following me, Lord Eddard?"
"Of course, it's because of your pendant. I've never seen one like it. It's beautiful. Could you tell me what that image is?"
"Of course, my lord, if you're the one asking, there's no problem. However, if you don't mind, my house is nearby. Perhaps we can talk there."
"Lead the way," said Ned, nodding.
In a wooden house in the city center, Ned sat facing a woman who nervously filled two teacups, placing a pearl with a mysterious blue glow into one of them. Her house was filled with medicinal herbs as well as various unidentifiable brews.
"Please, my Lord Eddard, Sir Duncan."
"No knights or lords here, please."
"Now, tell me, sister, what is that necklace, and what is your name, and what do you do?" he asked, accepting the cup but not drinking.
"Lys, my lord, I'm a healer, and this bauble is a memento of my mother, although I must admit I have no knowledge of it."
Adopting a more serious pose with a raised eyebrow of doubt, he asked, "Really, what a pity," said Ned as his eyes began to glow unnaturally.
Arwen
Forest Witch
Level 48
"By the way, sister, what is this tea you gave me? Its scent is fascinating."
"Nothing strange, although it's difficult to prepare well. It's called snowflake flowers. If crushed or eaten, they can kill an adult man within hours due to hypothermia. The symptoms are very similar to falling asleep naked under a snowstorm all night. Many people die because they're so sweet...hehe, just kidding. But don't worry, well-prepared, it removes the poison and leaves only a rich, refreshing, and very sweet taste."
"Wow, you really know how to scare people, sister," Ned mentioned as his face went from terror to a radiant smile.
"You know, I really appreciate people who can tell a good story, as well as those who know things, maesters, blacksmiths, troubadours... witches," said Ned as his eyes began to glow again, and his expression abandoned the youthful smile, adopting a flat and emotionless grimace. (Author's note: finally, the famous expression of the SILENT WOLF)
"I'll ask you again, ARWEN, who are you?" He said with a deeper voice than should be possible for his youthful voice.
For a brief moment, both Duncan and ARWEN shuddered.
Kneeling, the woman began to speak...
"Hi, Mom. Did you wait long?"
"Hi, little one. Did you have fun? And no, I didn't wait long. Besides, with this pregnancy, my feet appreciate the rest of sitting down for a bit."
"I'm sorry for making you walk, Mom, but I've heard that walking is good for pregnant women."
"Oh, and where did you hear that, huh?"
"From around, hehe, a bird told me."
They laughed as they walked back in Winterfell.
"Thanks for the walk, Mom."
"It's okay, son. I'll go to the dining hall; go find your father in his solar and ask him to join us for lunch."
***
--Damn, I'm really hungry. This trait really makes me hungry, but oh well, I just need to deliver these two letters for the Maester to send, and I can go eat with the others. I think I could invite the Maester to eat; it's always good to get along with the one who heals you and the one who cooks for you. I hope he's finished analyzing the book I gave Father. Also, asking him for extra lessons serves as an excellent reason for my great progress with languages, although I'd like to attribute all the credit to learning the common language very quickly. It's all thanks to the trait.
ALL SPEAK
Allows you to understand and speak all languages in the universe as if you were a native of the region; the language will adapt immediately. Writings will be translated automatically, and when you wish to write in a language, you will do so unconsciously, although it will be your native language to you.
ALL SPEAK MODIFIED
You will instinctively understand languages that you haven't learned yourself, both spoken and written. It improves your learning rate in languages, greater skill in writing, speaking, or understanding a language. To hear or read a language, you will need prior exposure. If there is no speaker of the language, you can only read it to improve, and to have a language mastered, you will have to practice continuously.
Only the languages of your world.
Entering the maester's tower, Ned encountered Maester Walys's assistant.
"Hi, Tom, do you know if the maester is in his room?"
"Good afternoon, my lord. No, the maester went up to receive a raven at the Eyrie."
Climbing the stairs, located at the highest part of the maester's tower, was the Eyrie, which was the place where ravens arrived and were sent, although their cages were somewhat separated from the window as not even the hardiest ravens would live with the continuous northern blizzards.
"Maester, I found it," said Ned as he tugged at his robe.
"What The Hell..." the maester said, jumping a little pale from fright, dropping the correspondence he was holding.
"Sorry, Maester, I didn't mean to startle you," he said as he bent down to pick up the scrolls.
As he lifted the one that was already open, he froze for a moment.
"What's wrong, boy?" the old man asked as he took the parchment.
"Nothing, maester, I was just surprised that I don't recognize the language of the letter. Could you tell me what it is? Is it Valyrian? No, it doesn't seem like it."
"Hahaha, much more relaxed," the maester said, "of course you don't recognize it, boy. This is Old Andal, the original language of the earliest manuscripts of the Seven-Pointed Star."
"Wow, do you think I could learn it? It sounds more interesting than Valyrian or the Rhoynar."
"I'm sorry, boy, if you want to learn it, you must swear to the Citadel or become an Archmaester by merit. It's the only language that earns you a decorated link like this."
"So you also know how to write in Andal? It seems very complicated."
"Of course, I can write it, boy. Look, I even have the response written to that note you have."
"Oh, they write and respond in those complicated things."
"Now, why don't you do me a favor and take this note and the one you picked up to my study? You can look at both in the meantime. I'll tell you what, if you can decipher it with your brilliant mind, I'll give you any book you want."
"Of course, maester. Thank you."
Entering the maester's study, which was originally a room for acolytes who wished to stay with a specific maester, well, one of the many apparently when the construction of Winterfell was carried out, it was expected that quite a few acolytes would come.
A pale Ned Stark entered slowly, looking for where to leave the new note, which he still observed attentively. Upon reaching the table, unwilling to leave the note, he saw a partially written scroll in High Valyrian.
«My lady, the situation of the castle and the North in general has not changed. A patrol went out a few days ago in search of the bandit group; they should be near the barrows now. The North is still capable of raising 40,000 strong despite the poor preparation for the disgusting, resilient people who refuse to die. The harvest of this planting is...»
Leaving the note on the table, Ned left for his room, no longer hungry. Remembering the notes in Old Andal as THE OLD referred to it, he became furious.
«New orders in light of your previous failure; the target has changed. The dragon succumbs. Prepare the wolf to wither. The winter rose must die along with the child to enrage the wolf. They will find their end alone. The cursed blood will rule the North. All for the Prince.»
«The hair remains brown. The second son lacks the wolf's blood; he would halt the plan. Perhaps sending him with the eagle. I see potential for redemption; the grumpy wolf improves. His ambitions grow and turn south; the lion and the wolf still growl at each other. I will ensure it stays that way. The gate remains fallen. All for the Prince.»
Damn it, and I thought I could have at least a few years away from this shit of conspiracies and backstabbing. Come on, couldn't even the maesters have their faction or be neutral at least (here in the world of ASOIAF, seriously).
That same evening, a winter storm arrived in the middle of summer, devastating and unusual even for the inhabitants of the North, which lasted for days, leading to the cessation of all activities in the castle. Meanwhile, Ned made plans over and over, burning with anger; never had a moon been so long for him as this one. Finally, the storm stopped. "It's time," he said as he slowly exited his room with a dagger and a bag heading towards the bell tower.
"Phew! I hope this trait helps me enough; if not, I'll have to spend the next moon following my mother like a shadow," he thought as he looked at the trait panel, blowing on his hands.
Healthy Body:
A wish granted by an old man who lived his entire life with fibromyalgia and 10 different types of cancer, none of which killed him fast enough to die without pain. It encompasses the very interpretation of the god who reincarnated him, making him practically immortal.
Traits: Healing Factor, Enhanced Strength, Improved Reflexes, Total Immunity to Cold, Total Immunity to Fire, Total Immunity to Lightning, Immunity to Poison, Tireless, Infinite Vitality, Anti-Aging, Total Immunity to Diseases, Immunity to Curses, Sexual Control (control your erection, choose whether to impregnate or not, so sex and baby traits)
Modified Healthy Body:
Your body heals faster than normal, improved muscle mass, lower resistance to elements, resistance to poisons, lower resistance to diseases and curses, slightly enhanced senses, Minor Longevity, Birth Control.
"I don't know how much karma the original wisher accumulated for the office to put so much effort into his trait, but well, it's most likely that it was a new employee or intern who attended to him; those guys are motivated at the beginning."
Later in the night,
--"So, it's from me where Bran's climbing ability comes from; I just hope I don't see something I shouldn't and get thrown out, hehehe,"--thought Ned as he slowly climbed up the side of Winterfell's bell tower. That climb wouldn't be anything extraordinary if it were his brother Brandon characterized by his wild and reckless behavior or by the hour, the escapade was closer to the hour of the wolf than the usual time for such mischief.
"It's serious," he murmured, almost in panic. Before him unfolded a shocking scene at the top of the bell tower. The soldier who was supposed to be keeping watch for enemy sightings was currently atop a woman, trying to make as little noise as possible.
At that moment, the guard looked up and froze for a moment. "Damn, I should draw my dagger. I don't think I can take him, even with his pants down. It would be very suspicious if they found his corpse, and I still don't know if I can carry a body or something. Damn, I hope this works; if not, I'll have to abort the mission."
"Shh," Ned whispered, putting a finger to his lips in a sign of silence.
Locking eyes, the guard, who was still frozen above the woman, and Ned, who was crossing the bridge slowly, came to a silent agreement. He had never seen any prostitute in the bell tower, and the soldier had never seen the son of his Lord climb at the hour of the wolf. No one will find out, not even the prostitute who was still facing away would know.
After that unexpected encounter, Ned walked slowly across the bridge connecting the bell tower to the maester's tower. Climbing back up the ledges, he slid towards the raven window, making sure the servant who cared for the ravens wasn't around at the moment. He entered slowly, sliding in quietly so as not to disturb the ravens.
After descending the stairs, he stopped in front of the maester's door, which was still illuminated by candlelight. Damn, he couldn't wait for the old man to fall asleep. Just as he was considering his options...
"Little lord, how can I help you? If it weren't for the fact that you're standing so confidently in front of my door, I might think you're here to steal something," Maester Walys said, tapping Ned's shoulder playfully, amused to see him jump in fright.
"Good evening, Maester. I couldn't sleep and really wanted to chat with someone," Ned replied, controlling his hand, which had unconsciously slipped to his dagger.
"Nonsense, we both know you're here to retrieve your book. Ever since I taught you to read, you don't sleep without reading something first. Although I still don't understand your fascination with that incomprehensible journal, I have better books suitable for your age," the maester said, inviting Ned into his room.
"He caught me; I really wanted to see if I could get it back. I even prepared a gift, you know, like what you taught me this afternoon, a deal, so to speak," Ned said, pulling a bottle from his bag.
"Hmm, and what deal are you offering, my lord?"
"Wine, Maester... I found it in a chest near the Godswood. Seems good, nothing stolen from the kitchens."
"Ohh, let's see. By the seal, it seems quite ancient, if my eyes don't deceive me, an Arbor Gold. Haha, well done, young one. I accept the deal, and we'll keep your little escapade between us. Now, please bring me a glass to ease this ache in my bones with my gift," the maester said.
As Ned walked to the table to get the glass, he took a moment to look around the maester's room. Damn, this old man has some good stuff here. Most of the books are blue, and I can see two places where he has weird things hidden.
"Here you go, Maester. Let me pour you some," Ned said.
"Thank you, Ned. You're a good lad. Excellent material for a knight. Maybe a southern wife would be at your feet once you grow up. Now, take your book and go to sleep before the guards catch you. I won't bid you farewell. You know the way out," he said as he sat at the table with his empty glass.
***
Ned Stark's room
"Damn it, lowering the walls is harder than raising them. I could have gone out through the main door, but like most towers in this castle, the doors can't be closed from the outside. If I had gone out that way, they would have known that someone had left the tower. The maester, at least, I fulfilled my purpose."
Maester's Tower, Walys's room
"Ahh! How long has it been since I tasted a good Arbor Gold? Although it seems that aged wines are sweeter. A good deal for a book of fantasies. Not like the damn deal with the watchman. A prostitute from time to time so he doesn't report the ravens that leave at midnight. He doesn't know how difficult it is to smuggle someone without getting caught. Luckily, the boy didn't notice me coming back. A good boy for a wolf spawn is that Eddard Stark. Maybe it would be good for him to be a Lord Paramount. I'll take advantage that I haven't sent the letter yet to mention it to my father. Maybe Dragons and Wolves can kill each other enough for Ned to inherit. Although I should teach the boy that he should shake the cups before serving something, the first sip was a bit gritty."
***
Winterfell Lord's Room
"My lord, excuse the disturbance, urgent news," said the guard.
"It better be very urgent, Rick. I haven't been awakened by a Cassel since your father was my swordmaster," said Rickard with a smile.
"We both know how tough the old man was to train, my lord. Good times, no doubt. Now tell me what news you bring that requires the master-at-arms himself to come so early."
"My lord, bad news. Maester Walys died during the night while drinking. It was hypothermia, according to his assistant."
***
Early in the morning, after the news of Maester Walys's death spread, Ned could be seen sitting on a rock next to the Heart Tree, with Old Nan beside him, telling him the story of the Children of the Forest for the tenth time in his life. Without alerting anyone, the boy's eyes shone mysteriously.
"So, these are the levels and the skill of observation I have."
Eddard Stark
Level: 20 >18
No title
Age: 5 years
Skills:
LANGUAGE:
Common / Advanced /
Old Tongue / Intermediate /
Valyrian / Intermediate /
POLITICS / Adept /
MEDICINE / Beginner /
BLACKSMITHY / null /
WAR / null /
ADMINISTRATION / Intermediate /
MAGIC:
Warg / Adept /
BEAST TAMER: Not equipped
Horse / Beginner /
WEAPONS:
Dagger / Adept /
According to what I've discovered so far, I only have eight skill sections. The levels of these range from lower to higher: adept, beginner, intermediate, and advanced. I don't know if there will be any other sections or if there are more levels, as I don't have a damn manual. As for my level, I have the theory that each skill range gives a level. Although some levels are discounted if I don't have the item equipped in the section. That means if I were on a horse, my level would rise to 20 because of the two levels of the beginner range. Similarly, if I didn't have anything resembling a hidden dagger with me, I would lose another level for not having weapons, leaving my level at 17. Turning to look at the old woman next to you, her eyes sparkled for a moment.
NAME: ?????
Level: ?????
Age: ????
// Error 404 //
"What the hell!" Ned said, falling to the ground. When he looked up and saw the grandmother again.
Old Nan
Level 99
Age: ????
"..."
Winterfell's Lord's Hall, evening
Knock knock
"Come in," a voice was heard.
"Hello father, do you think we could talk?"
End of flashback
"I don't know if it's a valid reason, but really, father, I don't trust the maesters from the South. Maybe not even the maesters in general."
"We need the Southerners. You sound like your mother with her distrust. If it's just paranoia, maybe I shouldn't have listened to you."
"But it's not just distrust, damn it! The worst part is, if I say I was ordered to poison mother, they'll probably just send inquiries to the Citadel where it's clear they'll blame Walys for everything, or I'll call the banners against the Citadel. With the arrival of winter and a king on the brink of madness, we'll only lose men in vain. We'll probably lose if the Reach or another kingdom gets involved."
Eddard Stark would later realize how absolute the possibility of annihilation of the North was if they rose against the Citadel, not by an allied kingdom, but by the simple hidden forces of the Citadel. But that's something for later.
"That's Walys's letter. It wasn't just the notes in the Andal; there was also the unfinished letter, I hope those rumors are less incriminating but not so serious as to lead to war."
"My suspicions are not unfounded, father. The day you sent me to deliver the responses to Kingslanding to Maester Walys,
I saw a letter in High Valyrian on his desk detailing our preparations for winter, our number of soldiers, among other things, and from your look, I can tell you that letter wasn't commissioned by you. I bet he still has correspondence saved in his room or something similar."
--Damn it,--Rickard thought.
"Very well, if we find evidence of what you say, it's worth considering your measures. For now, you're dismissed."
"Okay, father, thank you for listening."
"Will, come in!" Rickard Stark shouted.
"Lord Stark," the guard bowed.
"I want you to take four more guards with you and search Maester Walys's room, ransack the tower if necessary, but do it discreetly, only reliable men, do you understand?"
"Of course, Lord Stark. What clues are we looking for?"
"Betrayal."
***
"It seems you've done a great favor to House Stark by learning High Valyrian," said Richard as Ned translated the letters found in Maester Walys's room.
Each one more incriminating than the last, some revealed secrets of Winterfell, others warned of a scheme to sell grain at a higher price, some expressed joy at the misfortune of certain lords of the North, taunts to his father and mother, among other things.
The benefit of being the only one who knows what they really say allowed him to omit some things from the letters, only leaving enough to inspire distrust towards the maesters but not enough to go to war. "Ready, father, I think that was the last one, the rest are just greetings and unimportant matters."
"Excellent, son, thank you," said Rickard without much reaction.
Consider your proposal accepted, although I don't believe the Citadel will agree to send any lesser maester to serve as the Warden of the North. They must, at least, maintain the appearance of respecting us. I will request that they send someone who has a Valyrian steel link and knowledge of ancient languages, under the pretext of the new books you found. I hope this will make them more tolerant of Northern culture. Additionally, I will demand that he bring along two extra acolytes to attend to the castle and the works in WinterTown for the winter while the maester is transcribing the books. Knowing them, they will not send anyone who is not native to the North, especially with winter so close."
"Thank you, father."
__
Edrick Stark's Diary Entry number 4
There are 3 ways a new god is born:
The first type... The oldest and strongest is the personification of some force of nature which, with primitive man's respect, takes shape and feeds on the natural phenomenon itself, such as the gods of wind, fire, storms, and the stars.
The second type... The beast that, due to the fear it instills in the masses, grows and feeds until it reaches the rank of divine, neither good nor evil, a capricious god that can move by hunger, being the cruelest, or show infinite mercy without distinction.
The third type... are those that are born from myth, usually mortal men who, through their exploits, create faith among their peers who clamor for their protection or vengeance in their name. These gods are the weakest of all because they live on blind faith and are aggressive in extending their dominions throughout the world.
Ancestors speak of a fourth type of God, no one knows where it comes from or what force created it; it is only spoken of during the day and there are no runes that name it.
The few sources refer me to a place in the east. I truly hope the journey is worth it...
_____________
Here's the second chapter, so much has happened, hasn't it? Some plots that began in this chapter will be resolved in the next. I promise not to do it too much or too often. As for the last part, I hope you enjoy it; it's my solution to building a wider world than that of the books without having to include several continuous chapters of pure information. Who is Edrick Stark? I can only say that he is not the one they nicknamed Snowbeard, although he also got into a lot of trouble and grew very old.
See you in the next chapter.
