A Song of Grace & Fury

I'd come to realise that I'd severely overestimated the pace human armies moved at when I noticed Addam had started growing something of a beard, it was scraggly and thin at best but still... Robb Stark and the Northern host was nowhere to be seen.

At the same time, I couldn't say it was too long.

A human babe could be born, live for nearly a century and it would still be an ostensibly short time in my eyes... The few respites from this worldview came in the form of fleeting amusement and entertainment.

I curiously watched Addam hack away at a straw dummy, sitting on a tree stump with one leg crossed over the other. He'd grown a bit taller, and his hair had turned a shade darker... his grey eyes didn't shine with that naive glint anymore either, and it was a fact I found myself regretting, even if only slightly.

Biting into my apple, I spoke up between chomps, "Say Addam, you've never asked about visiting your family?"

My 'squire' was decisively loyal, gentle and his admiration for me teetered on the brink of reverence... Addam was a good lad.

He'd asked me a number of times to teach him but I'd denied his requests, he was a human... and brittle as all humans were.

"That..." He lowered his sword and looked over at me with a strained smile. Pursing his lips, he let out a sigh before wiping the sweat on his brow with his sleeve, "You remember where I told you my sister lived, my lord?"

I cocked my head, "Mummer's Ford. I remember. What about it?"

He didn't speak much about them, and just spent his days training with the sword or asking me about my life while giving me a hand with helping whoever needed it.

"Well... Ma moved with her when we heard war was coming." He spoke slowly, brows furrowed, "The Mountain raided Mummer's Ford, burnt it to the ground they say. He... They... My sister had a daughter, my lord. Two and ten and-"

Oh...

"I'm sorry." I mumbled quietly, lowering my eyes.

"W-What did they ever do, my lor-" He choked up, and I regretted bringing the matter up as a way to amuse myself... I'd never had a family I could call my own, and what few friends I made I lost to time or madness.

I licked my dry lips, "Nothing, child. Your people don't deserve any of this."

The hard truth was, there was nothing any of the common folk could ever do to escape the chances of meeting a similar, or even worse, fate.

In a way, their nobility held even more control than I'd thought possible over their little lives.

Sucking in a deep breath, he gathered himself again, far quicker than a boy his age should have, "I'm sorry, my lord."

"It's alright."

He went back to hacking away at the poor dummy.

After a few moments passed in awkward silence, interrupted only by his groans and the sound of steel against straw, I let out a small sigh.

I was probably going to regret this.

"Leverage your size and weight... don't just move your arms." I commented calmly, "Put one foot at least a forearm's length behind the other, and swing your upper body, like... Dunno... a lever or something."

Addam stopped short, "W-What? I didn't get that."

"Cheeky shit, you heard me as clear as I hear that maidservant you've been seeing." 

The boy lowered his head in shame, sheepishly rubbing the back of his head, "I-It isn-"

"Whatever happened to loyalty... back in my day, we-" I cut myself off, because I had no basis to talk at all seeing as even this kid had more of a love life than I ever did despite the age difference.

-

"Alright, is this the last one?"

I patted the wooden crate with a small smile, staring off into the sunset instead of the old man profusely bowing his head.

"Yes, yes! Thank you, my lord... for the help." He bowed his head again, "Is there anythin-"

I dismissed his words with a wave of my hand, "If anything, the lord of this castle owes you one. Not the other way around."

The old man laughed awkwardly at my words before taking his leave with hurried steps... and the reason for his haste came stomping out of the stone keep behind me, glowering for no apparent reason other than his own existence.

As a way to pass time till Robb's arrival, and for my personal vendetta against the Mountain and his band, I had helped one Lord Jonos Bracken retake his ancestral seat of Stone Hedge from a few stragglers.

I didn't even need to call on my draconic power, having sniped them from a distance with a wooden bow.

The Mountain had burnt all the fields and the lands, along with most of the keep, hence the supplies from the common folk for the rebuild I'd been helping unload.

What he'd also done was kill his nephew and rape one of his daughters before twisting her neck.

A mangled corpse of a fragile, little thing picked at by dogs was all we'd found after retaking Stone Hedge.

Understandably, these events had drastic effects on Jonos and his lady wife.

He scratched his dark beard and stared at me, "Lord Karl, you didn't have to do this." He then turned to the few men idling nearby, "What the fuck are you lot for? You have some balls standing there while a lord helps with the effort! Get to your damn posts or I swear, no god is going to save your hides!"

The men jerked, scrambling for their pikes and swords before offering loud apologies and running away.

Jonos crossed his burly arms and scoffed, "Bloody useless."

"They did help..." I scratched my cheek, looking down at the small man, "They were taking a break since we finished."

He cocked his head, visibly surprised, "Well, I... I think I should apologise."

That was... huh, "Yeah, I think you should... How's Lady Bracken doing?"

Lowering his eyes, Jonos let out a sigh, "I fear our little girl's fate has scarred my wife permanently. She's been praying to her gods without food or sleep."

"Let her grieve in her own way..." I put a hand on the strange lord's shoulder.

Everyone had their own way of handling loss... unfortunately, many spent most of their lives in that state.

Jonos accepted my words with a small nod, glaring at the burnt earth still in view, "Bastards all of them." He shook his head and turned to look into my eyes, "And... Lord Karl, I must ask. That steed of yours..."

Roach?

The bane of stable boys and hay?

"What manner of creature is that?"

"Why's it matter?" I prodded curiously, cocking my head.

Lord Jonos Bracken didn't speak, instead, he smiled wryly and pointed a finger to the crimson horse with hair like flame emblazoned onto his woolen tunic, "Is the name Bittersteel of any significance to you?"

Hmm... if the books I'd been reading were right... Bittersteel was a bastard of a Targaryen King who supported a major rebellion for the throne called the Blackfyre rebellion, led by House Blackfyre or something. A war commander of incredible renown for his skill and bravery, even if he was labelled a traitor.

What stood out to me most however, was that I quite liked the last name Blackfyre... and my lack of one made me think of doing something incredibly unwise, especially considering the historical significance of that specific name and my own appearance.

"Afraid not, man." I chuckled.

Jonos shrugged, "Ah well... I was just curious."

Despite his words, I found the way he looked at Roach incredibly odd... and I noticed a slight shift in his temperament when it came to me.

I quickly bid him farewell and climbed one of the walls around the Stone Keep to peer off into the setting Sun with my hands behind my back.

This world gave me mixed feelings.

For the first time in an incredibly long time, my heart compelled me to move for something other than a desperate bid for survival and peace... It was an odd experience, to say the least, but one I found I couldn't dislike.

My musings were interrupted by a rustle beside me.

When I glanced over, I noticed that it was someone I didn't recognise... and I recognised everyone in this keep at this point, "What do you want?"

"I-I came to tell..." It was a little boy, barely fifteen from the looks of it, with dusky hair and he prattled off but approached me at the same time. I could only chuckle when his hand shot out towards my throat.

My eyes briefly echoed my true nature, burning crimson in an endless abyss as I grabbed his hand by the wrist, "That's incredibly rude, kid. Did no one teach you manners?"

The voice that answered me wasn't the same as the child's, "A man did not know what the Gift was for."

It was... an apology?

"A man should go fuck himself then." I chuckled at my involuntary response, before correcting myself with a cough, "Er... who hired you?"

"A man can not say this."

My hand moved from his wrist to the soft flesh of his throat, "I can get it out of you by force... though I'd rather not. Don't worry, I won't take revenge or even harbor a grudge."

An assassination attempt on me wasn't provocative at all, if anything, it was an extremely amusing and curious thing.

"A man is not afraid of His gift."

"I can burn away a man's very being."

My eyes were a dead giveaway of my nature when I channeled my power, but they were also incredibly intimidating for the people of this new land and I would never hesitate to use what I had.

His eyes suddenly became skittish, and beads of sweat formed on his skin... but then he closed his eyes, seemingly accepting his fate so I sighed and let him go.

"Fine, be stingy."

The nature of the threat he posed didn't warrant such a drastic reaction, not if it could be a way to pass the time Robb was taking to get here.

"You... would spare a man?"

"A man should probably fuck off before this rare bout of kindness stops being that." I chuckled again, finding his way of talking to be a lot funnier than it had any right to be, "And a man should probably tell the one who paid him to grow a pair."

"...A man will remember this."

With those final words, he disappeared into the long shadows cast by the setting sun... or so he thought, but my ears could pick up on his steps and my eyes could see him wade past the wall like a sneak thief.

So I laughed at him.

That entire interaction had been refreshingly strange.

"What's so funny, Lord Karl?"

"Jonos... why do you keep finding me, man?"

"You're a hard man to miss." He let out a small chuckle, standing behind me, "There was a raven, from Riverrun."

"Hm?"

"Summons, Lord Karl." He spoke respectfully, "From Lord Hoster Tully... the Vale of Arryn has decided to join our cause, like in the time of King Robert and they march out of the Bloody Gate... They would like to meet the man who destroyed the Iron Islands and routed the Lannisters."

I knew little about the Vale and its workings and politicking but if they were like the Riverlands and the North, then they honored oaths and blood... It made sense they would join Robb's war effort from that outlook.

At the same time, it also made sense from an objective point of view.

They could secure their borders, and join the winning side early, for greater leverage in the post-war negotiations about divvying up the land and whatnot.

It also meant that the Seven Kingdoms were effectively divided into three parts, with clear borders, and the Winter Kings of the North held the strongest position as of yet... with a completely untouched host.

"The Lannisters are so fucked." I laughed lightly at the thought.

They were surrounded by enemies.

The best part was that it wasn't even slightly unfair.

"They deserve it." Jonos agreed with a scowl, "We should put those incestuous bastards to death."

I shrugged and wondered if Tywin Lannister would have treatied with House Greyjoy were they still around. It'd be a strategically sound decision.

-

Hope you enjoyed.

Comment your thoughts and/or suggestions for the story.

The usual is 800 but I've gathered something of a good stock so let's say 500 this week.

-

I typically write by first making characters, then drawing a plotline that would be a natural consequence of their nature and the power they do or do not wield. As strong as Karl is, there's also things that are just out of his control, either by circumstance, or by his own nature.

At the same time, I should clarify this.

My favorite faction in ASOIAF is Dorne, from the way Doran schemes, to the way they live, to the way they wage war and the sheer fucking balls on House Martell throughout the history of Westeros.

In this work, Karl's own nature aligns the most with the North (even if subject to change) and as you can probably see, despite his own thinking otherwise, he isn't a completely 'bad' or selfish person. At the same time, there's exceptions to this because he's supposed to be a person, not a one track cardboard cutout.

Despite all of that, he has no loyalty to the North itself, he just agrees with their principles and methods so chooses to side with them while paying attention to the Baratheon brothers. When he settles on his final decision, this might end up changing completely.

I wonder what Karl's affinity for the name Blackfyre holds for the future?

Wink wink... wink wink wink.

P.S: Was it confirmed that Young Griff was a Blackfyre? I can not for the life of me, remember. All I can remember is Jon Connington took Griffin's Roost in A Dance with Dragons and they made landfall.