ASOIAF: Lord of Nature

(Benjen Stark, Firmridge)

Benjen would be the first to admit that he was not a reader. Preferring to train and improve his sword skills when he had the time.

That was how he used his time when Brandon and Ned were still alive, not worrying about the burden of leadership and responsibility.

'Oh how wrong that turned out to be.' He thought mournfully. It was difficult to get over their deaths, no matter how many years had passed.

Unfortunately, nearly a decade of the ruling had made it a necessity to go through various historical tomes and reports nearly every other day to properly administer his lands and deal with his vassals, some of which were quite a hassle to deal with.

Yet, staring at the library in front of him, the Stark Patriarch couldn't help but be in awe of its contents. Surely the Hightowers and the Citadel must have shared their vast stores of knowledge with his liege. Otherwise, how could he possibly gather so much and in so little time?

Winterfell's library had nothing on it. He only needed to glance to his left to see the Lannister lord practically salivating over this precious area. The dwarf had effectively disappeared under the towering piles of tomes that surrounded his short stature.

Rubbing his droopy eyes to keep himself coherent. Benjen was slowly coming to terms with all the recent information that had been thrown at him.

While his House has always held seniority over its counterparts in terms of age and prestige, knowing that he was descended from such a unique and likely long-lived race was difficult to accept. It also gave a whole new meaning to their words, 'Winter is Coming'.

He and his blood were literal children of winter, and if that wasn't enough, a member of his House would likely make those words even truer if weren't stopped. A sense of duty and resoluteness filled him, it was his responsibility to deal with this. Regardless of his feelings on the matter, Benjen understood that House Stark could not shirk from this.

As for whether he was being deceived by his liege, such a thought could be said to be preposterous to the fierce wolf, there was no need for Erlend to trick him. The man was more than capable of erasing the North on his own if he truly needed to do so.

There was some information that claimed an intermarriage between the Starks and the children of the forest. However, he was unaware if the Starks at the time were aware of the Children's horrific actions towards their ancestors.

This left a terrible taste in his mouth, so many of his people worshiped and held the Children in high regard, yet knowing the truth of their disgusting actions, he wondered how long that would remain so.

To go so far against the natural order and yet fail to keep control of their creation. This was by far the most ridiculous thing he had ever heard.

Yes, the first men drove them away from their homes, that certainly couldn't be denied and he pitied them for it. But, the fact of the matter was what they had done in response was not only appalling but went against the natural order of things.

It was one thing to stubbornly swim against the tide, it was a whole other matter to poison the beings that lived within it.

A helpless smile spread across his face, recalling another silly fool who was swimming against the tides. The Arryns of Gulltown had some balls of steel for their audacity.

Lord Grafton had sent word that the mercantile branch of Arryn was incredibly dissatisfied with young Jasper's position as heir to the Vale, and had attempted to recruit him to their cause. With the help of those that were previously instigated by the Waynwood Matriarch and that sniveling weasel Littlefinger, they had gathered a minor following aiming to usurp the Vale.

Using Erlend's sorcery as the basis, they claimed him as a heretic and that his existence was 'blasphemous' to the proud and holy bloodline of Artys Arryn.

Snorting at that tidbit, he could agree that pride was certainly a central part of being an Arryn, but holy? Really?

Benjen wanted to crack their skulls and discern what exactly was going on in their heads. These fools had already lost Littlefinger and were aware of what had befallen the houses that attempted to rebel whilst the King was in Essos.

Edmund had shown his ruthless side, no doubt inheriting it from his father, and wiped out all dissident's stem and root. Reminding him greatly of his forefathers who had done much the same in their efforts to subdue the North.

Instead of laying low and accepting the change as the majority of Houses had done, they decided to as Erlend liked to put it, 'Fuck around and find out.'

Well, they weren't any of his concern or even a threat, his Majesty had decided to personally deal with them to send a message. Benjen wanted nothing to do with it, instead he dived right back into the tomes. Searching for a way he could counter the disaster that was the Night King.

Surely there was something that could be used to fight back. Perhaps ending this rampant rogue before he could even step foot in the north.

He could only hope there was a method to do so, fearing the consequences to his people should he fail.

…

(Tyrion Lannister)

Contrary to his northern counterpart. Tyrion was having the time of his life.

If he wasn't the Lord of the West, then the young dwarf would not have hesitated to spend half his life in this fascinating library. The information alone was enough to make even the most ancient of Houses go green in envy. 

Oh, he had no delusions that this library contained every single piece of knowledge House Mudd had accumulated over its long and storied past, for there was no doubt in his mind that the truly important tomes were hidden away somewhere else, away from prying eyes.

No House would just readily allow outsiders access to their secrets and the Mudds were no different. Regardless, just the information here was enough to satiate his hunger. No need to poke the hornet's nest any more than he had to.

What interested him the most was House Casterly's past. His ancestors, while not as important or influential as their more significant successors, were still a force to be reckoned with. If the information he'd read was to be believed then they were intrinsically linked with the Starks, Daynes, and Durrandons.

Be it through blood or glory, and with several mentions of their involvement in the Long Nights. These tomes if they were to be believed, mentioned how they provided the much-needed men, weaponry, and logistics to keep the fight against the Walkers going strong.

It intrigued him that during those events, thousands of Westerlander miners were sent to specific locations, searching and mining a specific ore that was said to be deadly to their undead foes.

Whatever this mysterious ore was, it wasn't mentioned within the tomes. Perhaps his Majesty knew.

He was also led to believe that these mines also likely ran dry in the process of supplying the allies. Otherwise, why would they be forgotten so easily? A mine was always worth something, regardless of its contents.

Admittedly this strengthened his belief in King Erlend's claims, as all he needed to put the final nail in the coffin was to search his library for confirmation.

After the Casterlys went extinct, the Lannisters who had taken their place barely paid much attention to the North, and well… their relationship with the Stormlands was hardly friendly.

Tyrion reckoned that under the assumption that their undead foes were defeated and gone for good, competition and desire for influence and power gradually eroded what friendship existed between the former allies.

The aggressive arrival of the Andals and their warlike culture only further deepened the divide and increased hostilities. This was all quite fascinating to the dwarf lord. A past he hadn't expected to uncover, but greatly welcomed.

Unfortunately, this was not the time to be distracted, he had to look for this mysterious ore. Just because he couldn't find a trace of it within the tomes in front of him, didn't mean they weren't here somewhere.

If the dead were truly rising, and the white walkers were once more a threat, then preemptive mobilization would be crucial to the success of their fight against them. Who knows, if he's lucky, then the Westerlands would benefit greatly from taking the initiative. 

Hopefully, it would be enough to solidify his position.

All he needed to do was to keep looking, and perhaps he might find it. Otherwise, he'd have to ask the King about it.

…

(Erlend Mudd, Gulltown)

Edmund had done quite well in stamping out most dissidents, but there were always a few that slipped the net.

His heir had done everything that could be done, within the limitations of his role and that was admirable in Erlend's mind.

It was to be expected that he couldn't be too thorough, not everyone was retarded enough to reveal their true thoughts and shout them out to the world, this was a world where scheming was the foundation of most successful endeavors.

Unfortunately for his distant cousins, they had miscalculated when deciding to approach the Graftons, assuming that Gerold would agree to their solicitation to avenge the death of his kin at the hands of Robert.

Stupid as that sounded, by their logic, Gerold should have turned on them as soon as his Uncle died, due to their blood relations with his Uncle. This turned out as well as could be expected, as Grafton didn't hesitate to discreetly send word to Nestor, who then conveyed them to him.

Hence why he was now walking towards the Gulltown Arryn's admittedly impressive manor, with a shaken Grafton and his guards right behind him. Fair enough, it would take some time for the poor lord to get over the fact that Erlend seemingly appeared out of thin air right in front of him.

Many of the residents of this major port city looked on with confusion as their lord and his loyal guards walked deferentially behind a mysterious man.

Erlend hadn't bothered to wear anything conspicuous, so aside from his handsome appearance and quality clothing that betrayed his nobility, few could recognize his identity. 

However, that didn't seem to be the case for the merchants who immediately guessed his identity upon closer inspection. The King's face was stamped on their golden crowns, making it easier for them to recognize him. The subservience shown by Lord Grafton was another indicator, considering he'd never show such a side to Nestor or Yohn.

Despite their reactions, no one approached the party. This wasn't an anime world where everyone crowded and watched dangerous situations with feverish eyes, common sense dictated they stay out of it, lest they provoke someone they shouldn't.

The ostentatiousness of the manor was glaring to the naked eye.

It was like they were trying to overcompensate for their diminishing status among the rest of the Vale's aristocrats.

Erlend had no desire to talk with them, with a signal, several dark-clothed figures suddenly appeared out of the shadows and kneeled in front of him, alarming Grafton's guards who unsheathed their swords immediately.

Motioning for the poor guards to lower their weapons. Erlend kept his eye firmly on the Captain.

Understanding what his King wanted, "Your Majesty, the traitors have attempted to make contact with many Houses that they assumed would side with them, fortunately only the Belmores agreed to meet with them, whilst others have sent ravens of this plot towards the capital as we speak." She reported dutifully.

"Benedar has overstepped, your Majesty. Please allow me to avenge this blatant treachery against you." Gerold interjected heatedly.

The man had gone red with anger at the audacity of his fellow Lord. Though one looks into his mind and Erlend easily saw through the anger, Grafton wanted to get into his good graces to improve his standing with him and this was the opportunity he'd desired for so long.

"Have Marwyn and Symond aid you in this. As of now, Marwyn is to be regarded as the head of the main branch of House Belmore. As for Benedar, there's no need for him anymore." Erlend ordered, after a few seconds.

Marwyn Belmore was a loyal man, as for skipping over the succession… Well, Gerold understood the unspoken meaning behind his words.

"Let's deal with idiots first, I'll speak to Nestor so isn't taken by surprise."

"Of course, your Majesty." Gerold bowed his head, barely able to keep himself from shaking in excitement.

The previous wariness and fear were temporarily set aside as he grasped the opportunity provided by Belmore's treachery.

His guards on the other hand looked completely lost, unsure if their presence was necessary and whether they should even be hearing all of this.

Erlend paid them no heed, it was time to make a statement. Sure it wouldn't be as grand and terrifying as he'd shown in Essos, but it would be enough.

…

(???, ???)

Feeling someone pat him on the shoulder, he immediately turned around and looked behind him vigilantly. Yet there was nothing there but drywall.

Having no choice but to ignore this eerie feeling. A trace of cold sweat rolled down his face, this wasn't what he signed up for!

All he had to do was guard the door, whilst his lord entertained his guests, and everything would be fine...

Another tap on his shoulder was felt, but similar to the last time, there was nothing there.

Trembling in apprehension, the guard felt like it would be best for him to leave this place. Unfortunately, the lord would have his head, if he dared abandon his post.

Poor Jimmy had been executed for leaving his post, and he didn't feel like following in his friend's footsteps.

The situation wasn't helped by the near-silent chuckle that his ears could occasionally make out. Sounds of goblets being dropped, plates being smashed and terrified screams would linger for far too long.

All of which he ignored, not daring to search for answers. If the perpetrator didn't get him, then his lord surely would.

A rustling sound could be heard behind the doors. Cold sweat had already soaked his clothes, surely the lord wasn't doing something unspeakable to his guests?

He had heard certain rumors about some lords.

'I have to quit as soon as possible, I don't want to be one of his victims.' A shudder went through him, frightening him more than the eerie events that were happening around him.

As if they were responding to his thoughts, countless phantoms appeared out of nowhere. 

The terrifying scene made him drop to his knees, as they buckled under the sheer pressure. Blood spewed from the bottom of the door and spread outwards towards the corridor.

A chill spread out, as the temperature dropped, and feeling something gazing at him.

The guard stared open-mouthed at the ceiling. Instead of wood and stone, he was met with jaws and ferocious teeth lunging towards him.

That was the last thing he could remember before passing out.

...

A groan escaped his lips as he found himself being kicked.

His eyes opened to meet the furious gaze of his Captain, looking like he wanted to kill with his eyes alone.

"C-C... Captain... Ghosts.Teeth. Blood!" He stuttered, unable to spout out full sentences.

Only to receive a punch to the gut by his enraged superior. "You fucking lowlife, forget the damn ghosts! Check on the Lord, NOW!"

Trembling, the guardsmen stared at the door with trepidation, his hands trembling and unsteady. As soon as the two men opened the door, they were met with a sight that would haunt them for the rest of their lives.

Blood and guts splattered all over the dining room, servants clutching at their grievous wounds.

The table, the floor, the ceiling. Nothing was spared from the aftermath.

Most importantly, the lord, his family, and the guests were... He has to stop himself from hurling at the sight. 

Some had their throats slit, others had their skulls caved in by what appeared to be blunt objects, while others looked like they stabbed themselves to escape whatever they had witnessed.

This... this was a sight straight out of the Seven Hells.

He did not hesitate to drop onto his knees and begin fervently praying to the Father and the Mother, begging for mercy and forgiveness.

His captain stared wide-eyed, unable to comprehend what had occurred. 

This was the Seven bringing their wrath down upon, surely no human could cause this?