History Repeated

"You were not with the Wildl-... Free folk."

I leaned against the window, watching the last of the fearful wildlings filter in through the only remaining opening left in the Wall. The Northmen seemed equally unsettled, and uneasily gripped their spikes, watching with nervous eyes as rough men and women walked past their ranks.

True to his name and title, Stannis had laid claim to the King's Tower once he'd arrived at Castle Black, and his men had taken to make it an abode fit for the King of the Seven Kingdoms.

Carpets covered the stone floor, and candles burnt along the window sills. A long table sat beside the hearth, with wine and sourdough bread atop it. Admittedly, so far as Kings went, the decor was still decidedly simple.

I glanced at Stannis, then at Davos who stood near the door, head lowered to stare at the floor for some reason. The King of the Seven Kingdoms clearly held little appreciation for my disregard of his authority but knew not to enforce it.

"I was doing a little pest hunting," I answered with a sigh. "Your Others don't like my fire much. They also don't like lightning. But, that's boring stuff. Did Mance bend the knee?"

Stannis nodded, looking into the hearth. The King was dressed as plain as ever, wearing only a simple woollen blue tunic over leather breeches and rough boots.

"That's good. Give them the land near the..." I pulled my diary from my satchel and flipped the pages to the North. "Yeah, the Gift. Should be enough."

"I hear you faced the Others."

"Yep."

"What do you make of them?"

"Like I said, pests." I flashed him a small grin.

"Did you end them then?"

"I leave it to you to figure out."

I had separated from the Wildlings to look for the so-called ice dragons Val had told me about. Unfortunately, it seemed they really were just legend. Or perhaps I just hadn't looked hard enough before turning back around.

"Very well," the King stomped over to his table and retrieved a handful of parchments. Learning from last time when I made him read them out, this time he handed them over to me.

I looked around curiously. "No Red Priestess?"

"My..." Stannis halted a moment. "It appears my duty blinded me to the whispers of a vile woman."

Woah. 

I turned aside, stifling a laugh with my hand.

"I value her counsel, and her aid thus far. But crazed fanaticism will do the realm no good." His gaze moved to Davos and I understood that the former smuggler had something to do with this 'change'. A welcome one, to be sure. I would not aid a fanatic to the position he sought.

But... Stannis had burnt people at the stake at the priestess' behest. It was something I was willing to overlook in my bid for a king who would rule fairly but it was not something I would forget.

I had made the mistake of forgetting that manner of wrong once, and I would not make it again.

Shoving the letters in my pocket, I bid Stannis farewell and made my way down the tower, out onto the hectic roads of the Black Keep. I was once again reminded of the lack of walls, and the great disrepair.

But, I paid little attention to all else until I arrived at the training yard where Jon Snow was busy trading blows with a larger youth as a fatter one watched on from the sidelines, clutching some dusty old book in his arms like a babe.

I sat down on the plank bench to watch them and was soon joined by an unamused Harrion Karstark. 

"I take it you don't like the King." I commented, not turning his way.

"No. It ain't he that annoys me. Stannis is fine. Good even. Lord Eddard always liked him." The Karstark grumbled, stroking his braided grey beard. "It's that fucking Bolton bastard I don't trust."

I glanced at him from the corner of my eye and saw clear hate. "Huh."

"I got attacked last night. On the way back from the barracks." Harrion continued. "Three asses who couldn't swing their swords worth shit."

So that's why his arm was all bandaged up.

"But I know they were his. Just can't prove it. Craven woman-killer doesn't even have the mettle to face me."

I breathed into my palms and rubbed my hands together, humming, "Tell Stannis then instead of... you know... bitching about it?"

Harrion closed his eyes in thought. "The King doesn't need to concern himself with this. I'll find something and then I'll take his head."

I just smiled at him. These sorts of people tended to do everything right then mess up at the last moment and lose their lives for it. I'd seen it enough times to know.

"It's your funeral."

"Perhaps," He stood up. "My thanks."

Once he was gone, I couldn't help but recall what had happened at the wildling encampment. If I had not been there, men, women, children and elderly would have been slaughtered and made into undead wights or worse.

Those that survived would be shoved into the deepest despair. Men scarcely handled loss well. And... despair gave rise to madness. It reminded me of an old foe.

A mad god that reached out to those driven to the brink, promised untold power and destroyed those who fell to it from within until they were husks set on causing ruin and calamity.

Something worse than the Fell God of the Giants and the God of the Dragons and even the serpent all seemed to hate so fiercely.

The Flame of Frenzy.

Who sought destruction and nothing else, until all was gone. In that regard, there would be order after chaos. But only because it would leave nothing alive to disrupt that order.

To so completely deny the right to live of all there was and all there ever would be was something none in their right mind could ever find acceptable.

So, it preyed on desperation, and despair and the lack of hope.

I did not doubt that something had followed me into this world, even if I couldn't find any mention of it. But even I wished that it was not that.

Sighing, I crossed one leg over the other and pulled out the letters Stannis had given me. There were only two.

The first was a fairly straightforward one. It was from some red priest beyond the Narrow Sea that spoke of massing fleets in the Free City of Meereen.

"Daenerys Targaryen, huh?" I mused quietly.

I had intended on visiting her once the Seven Kingdoms were brought into order but now, it seemed I didn't need to. Admittedly, I knew little of her, and the wiser decision would be to just stay in Essos.

But the Targaryens weren't a particularly smart bunch, and most were arrogant beyond measure to boot. I didn't deny the possibility that she would attempt to capitalise on the current disarray to launch her own campaign, especially if incentivized by someone.

She was too young and that simple fact was far more important than most would think. The history of her family didn't exactly set the greatest of prospects either.

The state of the paper made it clear that it had been quite some time since it was sent too.

The other... Now, the other was quite the interesting letter.

It had the broken direwolf seal of House Stark and held a report from Robb.

"I didn't think he'd have the guts." I chuckled.

"Who?"

"Tywin. He actually attacked Harrenhal," I answered, not needing to look up to know it was Jon who asked the question. "Thought he'd keep to his words... or at least, be too scared to actually try something. Did he break or something?"

"How many?" Jon asked calmly, setting his dulled sword against the bench.

"Considering the Tyrells are with them. A hundred thousand at least."

The nature of medieval societies was such that I doubted the Reach would even believe the rumours floating about regarding me. But well, this was a complete invading force, not some village mob.

They knew what they were getting themselves into. There was no way they couldn't have.

And hm, there needed to be some sort of consequence for breaking the agreement with me.

In the end, I didn't hesitate much when I made my decision regarding how I would deal with them.

I would help where I could, and enjoy it. But, my heart did not bleed for lives that would pass whole if I closed my eyes too long.

"See you later, Jon." 

I tossed the letter in the air and unceremoniously took my leave without any kind of notice.

-

Hope you enjoyed.

Also, check out Fate/World. I'll literally blow you.