Percy POV
Summer: 295 AC
When Percy opened his eyes, he was greeted with darkness. For a moment he wondered if Chaos had perhaps killed him, but that thought was stopped as he felt the wind against his face. Giving his eyes a moment to adjust, he took in his situation.
He was alone, and he was in the woods, that much he knew. The rustling of trees in the wind and the scampering of animals at his sudden appearance gave that away. When a particularly cold breeze hit him, he learned two things.
The first was that it was most likely fall, if this world had similar seasons that is. The air felt the same and there was just a familiar feel in the air that he couldn’t quite place. It just reminded him of the season from home.
The second was the fact that his outfit had changed. The fabric that conformed to his body in the breeze felt very different from the machine-made clothes back on Earth. They were itchy, and as his eyes adjusted, he realized they looked similar to clothes worn during the medieval ages.
He had on a black pair of cloth breeches that stopped at the top of his shins and tucked into his new black boots. He could tell he had both, wool socks underneath the boots, and an itchy undershirt beneath what looked to be a leather chest piece.
He also felt the weight and warmth of some type of heavy fur jacket yet couldn’t determine the animal it was made from in the darkness. Overall, Percy felt as though he was in some type of Renaissance fair.
He then checked for his weapons, relieved to feel the chain still around his neck and the ring on his finger. The relief soon turned to panic however as he realized his pants didn’t have any sort of pockets.
The demigod became frantic as he patted himself down several times before noticing Riptide, as a sword, lay at his feet. After picking up his trusted weapon he took comfort in the light it gave off once in his hands. It oddly reminded him of Daedalus' Labyrinth.
After willing his sword in a sheath attached to his left hip. He then collected Hades’ pouch and attached it to his right hip, while doing his best to conceal his egg underneath the massive coat. Making sure everything was secure, and double-checking that he had everything, Percy started making his way towards the closest body of water.
He tried to spread out his senses several miles, to see if he could feel people, but found himself exhausted after not even half a mile. To Percy, it felt as though he had fought a battle for every inch of control to sense the water he did find.
Because of that, he was in no hurry to see how much water he could control, and at the moment he doubted his ability to make a sphere. Percy wasn’t sure if it was because the nature in Westeros served a different master, or if it was because it had never been controlled before.
He absently thought that it could just be a chemical composition difference, but put that as a less likely probability over the other two. So far it felt just like Earth, and for the most part, all the animals looked the same, the ones he could see at least.
He pondered that and much more as the trek became harder and longer than the legendary demigod anticipated. The terrain, on top of the heavy clothes, was exhausting him and after nearly an hour he found the lake he sensed earlier.
The clarity of the lake reflected the clear night sky above and Percy was able to see millions of stars and the moon so clearly it was surreal. Back on Earth, he would’ve never been able to see the sky with so much clarity due to the light pollution of New York City. But here, he could see it all and was speechless.
After another moment of adoration, he began to build a campfire and got himself comfortable. Yet, before he could go to sleep, a nagging in the back of his mind roared for fire and he unconsciously set his egg next to the hot flames.
With the nagging voice satisfied Percy closed his eyes and drifted off into a dreamless slumber, a burning excitement and anticipation for the next day.
Percy awoke to the sounds of birds chirping and the hiss and crackle of a dying fire. For a moment he was confused, and then the last two weeks came rushing back to him. Doing his best to keep himself steady as he was bombarded by waves of emotions.
Taking several deep breaths, and focusing on his surroundings, the son of the sea worked on stopping the panic attack before it could get its hold on him. It was something his therapist had told him to do as he worked through all of his issues.
Taking a look up at the sky, he felt as though it was sometime in the morning considering the sun had barely crested the horizon. Using the newfound light, he took a better look at his surroundings and attire, the feelings of anxiousness and panic fading as he did so.
He was in a smaller clearing next to a fairly large pond surrounded on all sides by massive pine and spruce trees. The blue water of the pond lapping at the shore as a gust came through, shaking the trees.
Taking a breath Percy was once again reminded of the fresh air, untainted by humanity and pollution, to him it was blissful. After enjoying another moment of the nature around him, and making sure the panic attack had subsided, he made his way to the pond. Taking in his reflection in the clear blue water as he approached.
He grimaced at himself, the dirt and grime on his face was obvious and he had a slight stubble from not shaving. Willing some water up from the pond he tried to make himself presentable but gave up after a moment. Even such a menial task had left him exhausted, and he hadn’t even gotten the water to his face.
With a sigh, he cupped his hands and dipped them into the cool water of the pond. As he cleaned the dirt off his face, he couldn’t help but wonder why even the simplest of tasks was draining him completely of energy.
Once he was done cleaning his face, he took a moment to better admire his clothes. He was correct in his assumption last night about the black breeches and boots and was shocked to see he wore a black tunic with a leather-hide chest piece over top of it. He also realized the jacket he was wearing was a gray wolf’s pelt that went all the way to the bottom of his calves.
Satisfied with his assessment he made his way back to the small camp and began to clean up. Once that was done, he took off his pelt and wrapped the egg he had inside. The demigod still wasn’t sure what was inside, but assumed it was valuable, why else would Chaos give it to him?
So, after re-attaching his trusty sword to his hip and Hades’ pouch, the demigod made his way downstream from the pond. Hopeful to come across some sort of town or even a road.
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Percy couldn’t help but feel more and more like he was in medieval Europe as he came across a dirt road after traveling downhill for what felt like hours. Deciding to follow the road rather than continue following the stream, he came across his first human.
The man was easily in his late 40s as he steered a horse wagon the opposite way. He took note of all the food in the back of the wagon and ignored the rumble in his stomach as he introduced himself.
“Excuse me sir, I got lost chasing after my horse that got spooked. Any chance you could tell me where I am?”
The man looked hesitant, after glancing at the demigod's sword and took a moment to take in his surroundings. Percy noticed the man hadn’t pulled on the reins for the horses to stop from their walk and was afraid he would be mistaken for a bandit of some kind.
Percy let out a breath he didn’t realize he was holding as the man deemed him worthy of a response. The gruffness and slight rudeness in his voice shocked him slightly.
“You are on the King’s Road boy, if you head north with me you will reach Castle Black. If you continue your current direction you should arrive in Winterfell by sundown.”
Percy didn’t question the names, he simply hoped that this ‘Winterfell’ was big and popular enough to have a library so he could attempt to do some research.
“Thank you kin....”
The rest of his sentence died off his tongue as several men began to walk from the bushes weapons raised. Percy noticed a couple had some kind of crude armor, but the rest only had weapons.
He could see the horses begin to freak out, stomping their hooves and neighing loudly in fear, stopping in their tracks as the bandits approached. Percy tried to calm them down mentally but was surprised when he realized that he couldn’t communicate with the horses despite his best efforts.
Marking the horse issue as a later problem, he began to take in his enemies, counting eight total bandits. His surprise grew as the older man he had been talking to gave out a long sigh, pulling out a sword of his own that looked to be of good quality and well-maintained.
“I will give you all a silver stag if you decide to let me pass without trouble.”
Percy could detect the tiredness in the old man’s voice, but there was an edge to it. It was one that promised a fight if they didn’t accept this deal. Percy thought it was a clever tactic, but as one of the bandits stepped forward, he could tell it wouldn’t work out. The greedy look in his eye told Percy all he needed to know; it didn’t help that the bandit looked like the leader considering he had on the most amount of armor.
“Why settle for one stag each when we could take it and the food from you instead? I think you have more coins on ya then that, don’t you agree boys?”
The cheers made Percy cringe as he slowly prepared himself for the upcoming fight, moving his pelt and egg next to the older man's wagon wheel as the bandit spoke up again.
“That other one also has a nice coat on him, I think it would look good on me as I fucked one of them Winterfell whores. What do ya say men? I say we kill them, take all their belongings, and pay a nice whore for some time.”
Percy chuckled internally as he and the older man sighed at the same time. Summoning his armor and drawing his sword Percy got into a ready stance as the older man did the same. Percy mentally appraised the man's footwork; it was obvious from his stance that he had seen combat.
Turning his attention back to the bandits Percy was a bit smug as a couple of them now looked at his armor in worry, no doubt wondering where it came from, while others eyed it hungrily. Then before the leader could order the attack Percy struck first, not wanting to give the bandits a chance to coordinate.
However, to Percy’s surprise, one of the bandits had a quick enough reaction to block his strike while another had enough sense to attack him. So, Percy disengaged from the first bandit just in time to lean under a hammer swing from the other. So close that he felt the tip of the hammer on his nose.
Unfortunately for the bandits, Percy was a demigod with years of battle and sword-fighting experience. Capitalizing on the one bandit being off-balance from the heavy swing by twisting at his current angle to slash him from left to right. Closing his eyes as the bandit's blood began to spurt out of his body.
Percy then took his sword and parried the original bandits’ counterstrike. The poor man had thought he was distracted, unfortunately for him, that wasn’t the case. So, after parrying the strike Percy righted his body and stabbed the man in his stomach, jerking his sword to the right and through the man's body.
The bandit's face went from shock, to horror, and then pain, as Riptide cut through him like butter. His mouth contorted into a silent scream as he fell to the ground, no longer having motor function in his legs. Percy averted his gaze as the light slowly left his eyes.
The bandit leader, quickly noticing the threat Percy posed, instructed his remaining five men to attack the demigod while he kept the old man busy. Percy wasn’t one to be idle though and met the five men mid-charge.
Jumping in the air in a powerful overhead strike which the front bandit went to block. Unfortunately for him, Percy’s strength combined with the sharpness and metal of Riptide, cut his sword in half and kept going. Going through the man's skull and continuing until Percy reached his chest.
The demigod grimaced in disgust and closed his mouth as blood began to spurt from the poor man's body. Pulling his sword up and out just in time to see one of the bandits run away and back into the forest. Percy couldn’t blame the man, if he had seen someone cut through three of his friends in under five minutes he’d be scared too.
Focusing his attention back on the remaining three bandits, only to just barely leap away in time as a giant of a man’s axe sliced through the air where he had just stood. The son of Poseidon had to then immediately roll away from a follow-up strike by the giant, his battle axe slamming into the ground where he had just been.
Realizing that the giant of a man would be out of the fight for a moment as he worked to free his axe from the ground, Percy looked up just in time, seeing another bandit bring his sword down in a sloppy and weak overhead strike. His experience kicked in and allowed him to counter the man's strike, slapping away his sword.
The demigod then took his momentum from parrying the strike, cutting the man's arm off at the elbow, and leaving a gash across his chest. The bandit screamed out in agony, which Percy was quick to silence with a slash across his throat.
His demigod instincts kicked in at the moment and he turned just in time to block a strike that would’ve hit a chink in his armor. Continuing to follow his instincts, he rolled away, barely dodging the giant man’s axe for a third time.
Percy then kicked the smaller bandit away from him to buy some time and engaged the giant of a man. Feinting a strike to the right, which the oaf fell for, before slashing from the left. Cutting open his stomach like it was nothing. To the son of Poseidon’s shock however, the giant stayed standing.
The man took another sluggish swing at the demigod, only for Percy to dodge it, and get inside his guard. Stabbing him through his now-exposed heart and ending his life. Pulling his sword out as the man fell backwards, the legendary demigod immediately parried a wild side strike from the last of the original five bandits that went to fight him.
With his balance thrown off, the man stumbled, and Percy immediately capitalized on his fatal blunder by swinging at his side. The demigod grimaced as he cut clean through the bandit who proceeded to collapse face first, now in two pieces.
Flicking some of the blood off his sword, Percy took in the old man's fight and was impressed with his swordplay skills. Making his way over to the fight Percy paid close attention to the two fighters' footwork and strength, shocked at the skill they were showing.
It reminded him of younger campers that were a couple years into their training spar. Noticing the old man slip, Percy picked up his pace, using Riptide to block what would’ve been a deadly blow just in time.
The bandit leader stared at him in shock, no doubt wondering how in the world one man had dispatched his men so easily and quickly. Percy then took the old man's place and began a dance of blades with the bandit leader.
Percy was surprised by his ability to keep up with him. Managing to keep up a strong defense as he attacked ruthlessly and with precision. He’d go for a slash from the right, only to be met with a parry. Switching it up he would go for a feint from the left, and the man would twirl out of the way. Even being aware enough to block his follow-up overhead strike.
Realizing he didn’t give the bandit leader enough credit Percy kept up their deadly dance, trying the occasional feint that the man never fell for. The opportunity finally presented itself when the bandit leader tripped, taking one hand off his sword to re-balance himself against a tree.
The legendary demigod capitalized on the fault immediately and locked blades with the leader. Sliding Riptide to the other sword's hilt and flicking his wrist. Percy couldn’t help but reminisce slightly as he used the first trick he had learned from his spar with Luke Castellan.
Stopping his train of thought there, Percy raised Riptide to the bandit leader's throat. Not allowing the man to move an inch as the old man from earlier came up behind him. Percy could sense the hesitation in the man, but also an underlying appreciation.
“Don’t kill him young man. That is Ivan the Snake, and he has a pretty big bounty on his head in Winterfell. The Warden will want to see him alive himself and deal out the proper punishment.”
Percy nodded his head, before knocking the bandit out with his sapphire pommel. The son of Poseidon then turned towards the older man, flicking the blood off his sword and then sheathing it, he held out his hand to shake. The older man stared at his outstretched hand for a moment before gripping his forearm in a firm warrior's handshake, something Percy could appreciate.
“Thank you, Ser...? I assume you are a traveling knight?”
Percy shook his head before releasing the man's forearm.
“No, I am not a knight, just a man. You can call me Perseus.”
The older man rubbed the stubble of his chin in thought before responding with a serious tone in his voice.
“You mean to tell me that not a single one of those southern lords have knighted you?” At Percy’s shake of the head, the old man let out a booming laugh.
“I misjudged you then my friend. I thought you were one of those pompous pricks with your skill, armor, and sword. I am glad to hear that you do not follow that cultist religion, damn Southerners and their Seven.”
Percy did his best to not show his confusion about everything the man was saying and nodded along.
“My name is Martyn Cassel by the way. My brother is the master-at-arms in Winterfell, and he is going to be delighted with the capture of Ivan the Snake. Let’s loot these fuckers while we wait for the bastard to wake up so he can lead us back to his camp. I bet that’s where the best stuff is.”
The one bandit who broke away from the group coming back to the forefront of Percy’s mind made him speak up.
“I doubt there’s anything left at the camp, I noticed one of the bandits ran off as I was fighting the three. Could he be coming back with reinforcements?”
At his question Martyn shook his head, bending down to loot Ivan's pockets and stripping him of his weapons & armor.
“No, that cowardly bastard probably just saw the way you killed those first two fuckers and pissed himself. He most likely ran back to camp to steal all the valuables and leave. In that case, we will just take what's here, grab only the good armor, I don’t want to strain the horses with worthless shit.”
Percy nodded as he then began taking the valuables from the dead and loading them in Martyn's cart. He noticed there wasn’t a ton of room considering all the food, but he made it work. Once everything was loaded Percy finally threw Ivan in the back of the cart, on top of all the armor, with his hands and feet tied up with some spare rope Martyn provided.
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Percy then walked around all the dead bodies before finding, and cutting, a fairly clean piece of cloth off one of the corpses. Before sitting down and beginning to properly clean Riptide and his armor of blood. The entire time he couldn’t help but wonder what was wrong with him.
He had killed people before during the second Titanomachy and Gigantomachy, but he felt remorse and disgust then, now he couldn’t feel a difference. He wasn’t sure what changed in him, but he had a feeling it had to do with both Tartarus and Annabeth’s death.
Overall, he just felt nothing as he stared at the cold corpses, the stench of death mixed with piss and shit as their lifeless bodies emptied themselves. The demigod sighed as he finished cleaning his equipment before making his way to the wagon.
He had a lot to learn and research as he had no idea what was going on. Noticing that Martyn hadn’t touched his things, Percy collected his cloak and egg, placing them under the wagon seat as Martyn turned the wagon around towards Winterfell.
Realizing now was a good time to figure out the horse issue from earlier, Percy focused on reaching out his mind in an attempt to connect with the horses. Only to reel back as he felt himself beginning to overtake the horse's mind rather than communicate.
After a similar third attempt, he determined that it would be impossible for him to communicate with horses for answers. So, he settled in for a comfortable silence with Martyn as they made their way back to Winterfell. Only breaking it to ask a couple of questions that weren’t too suspicious, trying to let the older man talk as much as possible.
Out of those questions, and the subsequent storytelling that Martyn did. Percy learned enough to develop a good backstory for himself, in his opinion, as well as a lot more about the North and its Warden.
He would tell everyone that he was a sword teacher from Braavos and that he traveled to Westeros because he wanted to see the world. That was also how Percy learned that Westeros was not the name of the planet, but the name of the continent that he was in.
The demigod was also able to gather that the food Martyn had in the back of the cart was on its way to Castle Black. A once prestigious castle and honorable choice to take the black and guard the realm, that was now nothing more than a punishment in Martyn’s opinion.
The last bit of information that Percy was able to gather from the older man was that Eddard Stark, Warden of the North, and his family had just celebrated their youngest son Rickon Stark’s first name day.
Which he inferred as this world’s way of saying birthday and that Eddard was an honorable and noble man. Percy was interested to meet him but was dreading all the formalities and politicking he would have to do.
It was something he had done in New Rome, and he despised it. Almost as much as he hated how good he was at it. According to Reyna though he was a master and had a knack for weeding out the snakes and bullshitters.
He silently vowed to himself though, that despite the nature of politics, he would not be an ass-kisser. It went against everything he stood for, and he refused to show respect and be a cheerleader for someone that didn’t deserve it.
Percy was broken out of his thoughts as Winterfell and Wintertown came into sight. His jaw dropping slightly at the beauty of the castle itself. It was a sprawling city of stone that looked to be well protected.
He admired the medieval architecture and was impressed with how clean the stone making up the turrets looked, and the number of guards walking along the ramparts. He also noted that the walls seemed to be nearly thirty feet high.
As they made their way through the town and to the actual castle, Percy was shocked to see people fucking in the alleyways. Only to realize it was fairly common as he counted three couples doing the deed.
Martyn caught where the demigod’s attention was and laughed before patting him on the back.
“Aye lad! There’s only one whorehouse in Wintertown and it’s got more women than rooms so people make do. I’ll show you around later, I owe you for saving my life.”
Percy could only nod his head. Taking his eyes off a woman as she was bent over a barrel moaning in pleasure. He had so many questions but also didn’t want to give away the fact that he was an alien by their standards.
He hoped that Lord Stark would give him access to his library as thanks for the bandits' return. He had to learn what was normal, and what wasn’t before he asked a question that would get him crucified.
As they passed by another couple fucking against a wall in an ally Percy felt a pang in his heart as he noticed the blonde curls of the woman. While he and Annabeth had only made love a handful of times, considering Hera’s forced six-month sabbatical and the second Gigantomachy, he enjoyed it when they did.
The couple reminded him of the time they had done it against the wall on the Argo II in order to fulfill one of Annabeth’s fantasies. The memory leaving Percy lost in thought, as the wagon made its way through the town and in front of the Winterfell gate.
The guard recognized Martyn and motioned to the gatekeeper to open the gate as the two made small talk.
“What brings you back Martyn, and who’s the man beside you?”
Martyn smiled at the guard.
“Take a look in the back. I encountered none other than Ivan the Snake and his group on my way to Castle Black. Had it not been for Perseus here, they would’ve killed and robbed me. You should’ve seen it Ritley, Perseus was a master in battle, cutting through the bandits like warm bread. I came back to collect the bounty and introduce my new friend to Lord Stark.”
The guard’s eyes widened slightly at seeing Ivan the Snake tied up in the back before he broke out in laughter. Percy glanced back surprised to see the man still knocked unconscious. After calming himself, the guard led the wagon to the stables where Percy and Martyn dismounted.
Percy grabbed his cloak, and the concealed egg inside it, as more guards came and collected Ivan and the loot. Percy stood off to the side as everything was unloaded, and once the guards left, Martyn covered the food so it didn’t spoil.
Ushering the demigod to follow him the two made their way to the Great Hall, passing by several guards along the way. Percy thought it odd that no one stopped him or questioned him, but just assumed it had to do with the fact that Martyn was with him.
Once inside the Great Hall, the duo made their way to a raised table where two men sat. One was an older man with a chain around his neck and the other, Percy assumed, was Eddard Stark. Considering the fact that the man radiated an air of authority and confidence that surrounded him.
As they approached the table it drew the two men out of their conversation, and both looked at Martyn in confusion. Once they were standing in front of the table Martyn gave a bow that Percy was quick to follow.
“Rise Martyn, my friend. Tell me, what brings you back to Winterfell?”
Percy rose with Martyn and let the older man explain their tale of the past several hours.
“Well, I was traveling to Castle Black with the food donation when Perseus stopped me asking for directions. Ivan and his bandits chose that moment to strike, I tried to pay them off, but they wouldn’t take it.”
“I actually thought Perseus was one of Ivan’s bandits until he charged two of them, killing them in a matter of minutes. After that, I didn’t watch Perseus’s battle as Ivan himself fought me. I almost died when my leg failed, but Perseus managed to block the strike in time.”
“Then he fought Ivan himself, disarming him and knocking him out after a couple of minutes of intense combat. One of the bandits was a coward and ran away, but otherwise, I believe Perseus got them all. I then gave Perseus a ride back to Winterfell, and now we’re here Lord Stark.”
Percy felt Eddard's gaze on him and met it with one of his own. After a moment Eddard spoke.
“So, Perseus, as Martyn tells it, you defeated Ivan and his bandits almost single-handedly. Is that true?”
Percy nodded his head. “It is Lord Stark, but Martyn was vital in keeping Ivan the Snake busy while I dealt with his men.”
The Warden of the North nodded his head, before rubbing his chin in thought. After a moment he spoke up.
“Well, in that case, you ought to be rewarded for your efforts. Ivan’s bounty was 15 gold dragons, but for helping Martyn as well I’ll make it 17. Does that sound fair?”
Percy shook his head as he spoke. “Actually Lord Stark, I was hoping to have access to your library in lieu of payment for Ivan’s capture. Instead, I would ask that you give it to Martyn himself as he is the one who really helped me.”
Eddard studied Percy a bit closer at his statement but nodded his head after a moment's thought.
“Very well then. Martyn, I will give you five gold dragons and have two guards accompany you on your journey tomorrow. Perseus, I will tell the librarian you have unrestricted access. Now, It is late and I wish for time with my family. Perseus, you can have a guest room for as long as you are in Winterfell as my personal thanks. Goodnight.”
With that, the Warden of the North made his way towards what Percy assumed to be the personal living chambers, as the man with a chain around his neck walked up to him.
“It's rare to be a strong fighter and a maester. Is that why you wish for access to the library?”
Percy shook his head. He didn't know what a maester was, but it sounded like a pedophile's job, and he doubted the man would appreciate it if he told him as much.
“No, I simply enjoy reading.”
The man nodded his head before excusing himself which just left Percy and Martyn. With the former bidding him goodnight as well after calling some guards to escort him to his guest room. It was a gesture that Percy appreciated as he had no idea where to go in the massive castle.
After going through several twisting hallways and about half a dozen turns, the guards had led him to his guest room, and once inside took a minute to admire its quaintness.
It was small no doubt, but that was fine with Percy as he didn’t really have anything in this world. There was a fireplace in the center of the left wall, with the bed being against the right wall in the far corner.
He also noticed a small opening at the top of the far wall, that Percy assumed was either a window or a fault in the masonry. Finally, to the right of the door was a dresser and armor stand, while the left side of the door had a mirror.
Percy immediately began to get himself situated. Igniting a fire in the fireplace, and then summoning his armor before positioning it on the dedicated stand. After which he began to inspect it for any blood he may have missed from earlier.
While he doubted it would rust, he didn’t want to take the risk. He also just didn’t want to wear other men's blood like it was a trophy. Absentmindedly wondering why Martyn never said anything about his armor magically appearing, or disappearing for that matter.
He didn’t think anything like the Mist existed in this world, but then again, he wasn’t sure. He also supposed it could’ve just been the Mandela Effect at work. It was something Annabeth taught him once, where the human brain misremembers something different from what actually happened.
He figured it was a very real possibility of the latter, since he suspected armor suddenly appearing or disappearing was definitely outside the laws of reality for the people of this world. Martyn’s brain most likely couldn’t comprehend what it saw and filled his memory with something it could.
Like the fact that he had his armor on the whole time, hidden beneath his cloak. Either way, until he knew for sure whether or not this world had some version of the Mist, he would need to be more careful.
As his inner debate ended, so too did the inspection of his armor. The demigod then proceeded to strip to the nude and dust off his clothes and cloak, deciding to put back on his breeches as a particularly cold gust blew through the room.
Satisfied his clothes were relatively clean, he made a mental note to purchase more clothes as soon as possible. As well as figuring out where he could sell some of the gems Hades had given him. Percy then made his way to the bed where he had set his egg after entering the room.
However, after he set the egg on the chair next to the bed and began to get under the covers. A particularly strong desire overcame him, making him bring the egg close to his chest, and being surprised by the warmth radiating off of it.
As quick as the desire came, it also went, as the legendary demigod then pulled the covers over himself and the egg. Closing his eyes, the weird desire was forgotten, as the loving embrace of sleep took him.
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The next morning Percy awoke with a yawn, smiling in satisfaction as his stretch rewarded him with several pops. He absentmindedly wondered how his egg was beside him but disregarded the thought as soon as it appeared.
The demigod then got up from the bed and began to do some light stretches, and a small workout consisting of a couple of push-ups, sit-ups, and squats. Satisfied with how limber he was, he got dressed and ready, and after a moment's thought did his best to hide his egg.
He still wasn't sure what it contained, but he assumed it was incredibly valuable and didn’t want a cleaner to steal it, if castles even had maids that is. Satisfied with its hiding spot underneath the bed he went to leave the room only to be greeted by a guard who looked to be about ready to knock on his door.
“Oh good, you're already up and ready. If you would please follow me, I am to escort you to Lord Stark.”
Percy nodded his head and followed the guard through a series of winding hallways until finally, he was back in the Great Hall. The guard then excused himself and Percy was left standing with the Warden of the North, Ivan the Snake in chains, and the old man with a chain around his neck from the previous night.
Percy, realizing they were waiting for him to talk, silently cursed the medieval formalities and gave a small bow to Eddard.
“You wished to see me, Lord Stark?”
The man gave a small chuckle before speaking.
“It seems as though you hate the formalities as much as I Perseus. Please call me Ned, and there is no need to bow to me outside of court. I asked for you because I wanted to learn more about you and for you to accompany us as we brought Ivan before the old gods.”
Percy nodded his head, using the backstory he had come up with while riding with Martyn.
“I see, well I am from Braavos and arrived in White Harbor a couple of weeks ago. I wished to see Castle Black and the Great Wall but got lost after my horse was spooked.”
Eddard nodded his head. “Where did you learn to wield a sword? Martyn doesn't give out praise easily, but he had nothing but good things to say about you.”
Percy silently cursed himself as he tried to come up with a plausible story without knowing anything about Braavos other than the fact that they were known for creating amazing swordsmen.
“I was trained by an old First Sword of Braavos, my master actually passed away not long ago and that’s what brought about my desire to leave the land as nothing held me there anymore.”
Eddard nodded, and Percy thanked the fact that his assumption that ‘The First Sword of Braavos’ was a title rather than a nickname when Martyn talked about it on their travels. Percy was about to ask what they were waiting for, until an older woman, some kids, and a couple of teenagers walked in.
Percy was unsure who the people were but before he could ask Eddard introduced them.
“Perseus, this is my wife Catelyn, and my sons: Rickon, Robb, and Bran. My bastard Jon, and my ward Theon Greyjoy.”
Percy was confused as to why he singled out Jon as his bastard but assumed it was just the culture of the land. The demigod then proceeded to shake all but Rickon’s hand, as the child was less than one year old.
Lady Catelyn then ushered her husband into a corner for a conversation, so Percy made his way to the teenagers and Bran.
“So, what do you all do for fun here? Also, who’s the older man next to Ned?”
Percy was happy that they didn’t take offense to his lack of formality, as Robb immediately answered his question.
“That’s our Maester, Luwin. As for fun, it depends. Theon loves fucking whores, but Jon and I usually spar, have competition, or explore.”
Theon gave an indigent shout at Robb’s proclamation, but Percy noticed he didn’t deny it. Before Percy could gather more information Ned called them over.
“You five come on, we don’t have all day.”
Percy followed as they made their way through the castle. Having replaced Catelyn Stark and baby Rickon with several Winterfell guards. Percy wasn’t entirely sure where they were going but was doing his best to try and map the place mentally so he didn’t always need an escort.
After a couple minutes of walking, he figured he should attempt to bond with the young men, and he could think of no better way than a spar.
“Robb, Jon, Theon. What do you three say to a spar after we are done with whatever this is?”
Theon was immediate with his reply, and the cockiness of the teen had Percy eager to put him down a few pegs.
“Sure, but I don’t see how a lowly foreigner like yourself could win against the future lord of the Iron Isles.”
The demigod then turned his attention to Robb and Jon as he awaited their answer.
Robb’s enthusiastic, “Sure!” and Jon’s “Sound’s fun.” relieved him, as he feared all lords would be cocky and arrogant pricks.
Percy was shocked however to hear Ned’s voice from the front of the procession. “I’ll be excited to see this spar, I have heard many great tales of the swordsmen of Braavos.”
The procession continued on in silence after the patriarch of the Stark family’s words, and after another moment Percy realized they arrived at the stables. Once everyone was mounted, except for Ivan, the group made their way out of Winterfell and started heading northeast.
It wasn’t for another hour or so until the group arrived in a large clearing with a massive white tree in the center, full of blood-red leaves. Upon entering the clearing Percy felt as though he was being watched, but everywhere he looked he couldn’t see a thing.
Then, upon closer inspection of the tree, he saw what looked to be a face and it was as if blood was streaming from its eyes. Realizing that he was no doubt being monitored by something non-human gave him pause.
Robb, seeing the demigod's suspicion and mistaking it for confusion, tried to explain what was happening.
“That’s a Weirwood tree, and it is the eyes and ears of the old gods. There is one in Winterfell, but we solely use that one for weddings and joyous occasions.”
Percy nodded his head in thanks to Robb as Ned Stark made his way to the tree and two guards followed behind with Ivan. Realizing now that this was an old god, Percy reached out with his senses to try and communicate, only to recoil as he suddenly felt a coldness like never before.
Withdrawing his senses immediately he looked around to see if any of his companions noticed. Sighing in relief as he realized they were all busy talking amongst themselves, or too far away to notice. Percy then tied up his horse before following the group to where Ivan was on his knees and head hanging off a log as Eddard stood above him, in front of the Weirwood tree’s face.
Eddard Stark then ushered Percy over to stand beside him before proceeding.
“Perseus, do you swear on the old gods that this man led an attack against you and a traveler by the name of Martyn? Intent to kill you both and take all your worldly positions?”
Percy nodded his head, realizing now what this was. “Yes, I swear it.”
Eddard looked up to the tree at his proclamation and let loose a long sigh. After another moment the Lord of Winterfell turned back to Ivan on the ground.
“Very well. In the name of Robert of the House Baratheon first of his name, King of the Andals, the First Men, and Rhoynar, Lord of the Seven Kingdoms and protector of the realm. I, Eddard of the House Stark, Lord of Winterfell and Warden of the North, sentence you to die. Any last words?”
Percy had to give it to the man, as even in the face of death, he still stayed defiant. Turning to spit on the ground in front of Eddard before staring straight ahead. Then, in one clean motion, Eddard took his great sword and cut the man’s head off like it was butter.
The silence was deafening as blood began squirting out of the stump of the now headless body. In one motion, the Warden of the North cleaned the blade with a rag, sheathing the weapon as he turned to face him.
“Do you know why I did it?”
Percy shook his head and was glad when Eddard decided to explain it to him.
“The man who passes the sentence should swing the sword. If not, the powerful will never understand the sanctity of life.”
Percy felt as though it was a good idea, but it would only apply to the select few who were honorable. His feelings were confirmed as he noticed a bored look in Theon’s eyes as the teen clearly seemed to think the execution was beneath him.
It was disheartening to the demigod, but he was at least satisfied to see Robb and Jon with grim looks of determination on their faces. With the execution over, the group began their trek back after a couple of guards disposed of the body.
Wishing to not have the same silence they had the first time Percy started asking questions he hoped wouldn’t be too suspicious.
“So, Jon, why is your last name Snow? You and Robb look like brothers.”
Robb and Theon let out a laugh, and Percy caught a sad look from Ned at the front of the group before Jon said his answer.
“It’s because I’m a bastard.”
“So? Why does that matter?”
Robb spoke up this time.
“It means he can’t hold the Stark name unless mother were to approve, it then must be made known with the king's decree. Until then he cannot inherit anything from our family, it doesn’t mean he isn’t family though.”
Percy nodded and dropped the subject seeing Jon’s discomfort, but after a glance at Eddard, he assumed there was more to the story. Not only did he have doubts considering the amount of honor the Warden of the North had shown, but the way Ned looked at Jon wasn’t how Percy expected a father to look at a bastard, or a son for that matter.
Percy was broken out of his thoughts as the group arrived back in Winterfell much quicker now that Ivan wasn’t strung along while walking. After handing his horse to one of the stable hands Percy noticed Eddard come up to him.
“Thank you Perseus for your help with Ivan, I haven’t forgotten your request, so I offer you the guest room in Winterfell for as long as you're here. I will send someone to your room in a moment to lead you to the library.”
Percy nodded his head in thanks to Eddard’s generosity. So, after some quick goodbyes, and scheduling their spar. Percy began his trek back inside the castle and on the hunt for his room.
It didn’t take him long either until he found his way back, happy with himself for not getting too lost. After opening the door, he was pleased to see that his egg was still relatively concealed and that his bed was freshly made.
Putting to rest his doubts about a castle having any maids, he began to do a handful of stretches, before finally laying down on the bed. The heavy clothes were starting to wear him and his muscles down.
Closing his eyes as he decided a quick nap would be good for him, only to open them again as a horn sounded from somewhere in the castle with two long bellows. Confused, Percy opened the door, only to see a guard running past his room.
With a shout, Percy got his attention, but it was only for a moment.
“What’s going on? What’s with the horn?”
The guard shouted back at the demigod, not even stopping his jog. “We are under attack!”