ASOIAF: Lord of Nature

(Kevan Lannister, Casterly Rock)

BANG!!!

"THAT STUPID HAG!"

He didn't even need to look to know what had happened. There goes another chair… For a dwarf, Tyrion could be remarkably strong when angered enough.

The sounds of smashing continued as Kevan calmly waited for his nephew to let his rage subside.

In the meantime the older lion peered at the person next to him, she was a beautiful slender girl, with dark hair and deep blue eyes. If he hadn't known better, he would've assumed she was Durrandon of all things.

Then again, there was a good chance she actually might be one, he was well aware of that family's penchant for thinking with their lower heads.

Moments passed as the noise within the solar finally quieted down, he sent a reassuring glance to the poor las who was shaking nervously.

Judging that enough time has passed, he entered the solar without ceremony.

What welcomed him was the sight of a disheveled grim-faced Tyrion drinking his sorrows away, with mismatched eyes that looked as if they would pop out at any moment. His nephew had seen better days.

At least the girl next to him looked genuinely concerned for the troubled dwarf, barely managing to stop herself from rushing toward the littlest lion.

Without preamble and not bothering to wait for the boy to get his bearings straight. "You should've let us know about your marriage." Kevan's voice froze the drunken lad in his tracks.

There was no accusation in his tone, just mild disappointment. It was far too late to put a stop to it, he only found out after the drunken Septon had spread the news all over Lannisport.

Poor Genna was running damage control, trying to mitigate the outcry that would no doubt come from this event.

Tyrion had no time to care for his disappointed father figure, instead looking in shock at his wife who had rushed to fuss over him, distressed by his appearance. The lad did his best to assure the inexperienced girl, but that didn't seem to work at all, as she did her best to check up on him.

Kevan couldn't help but be reminded of Tywin and Johanna's situation, their love seemingly echoed by the two children in front of him. Whatever rage that had been building up in him deflated, leaving only frustration and grudging acceptance.

Make no mistake, the two were still children in his eyes. Two extremely foolish love-struck children.

"What's done is done, you are going to be under immense pressure soon enough. Prepare yourself and face it like a lion would." His voice interrupted the young couple, both looking at him resolutely.

"They can try Uncle, but they will never succeed." Tyrion's response contrasted greatly with his disheveled appearance, sounding every inch like the lord Kevan believed him to be.

Searching his nephew's gaze for any weakness, the older lion nodded with satisfaction at finding none. Perhaps there was no need to fear too much, at least the boy had the sense not to put a baby in the poor las before marriage.

A bastard was the last thing House Lannister needed after Cersei's actions.

"Make sure to visit and thank your Aunt, she's done a lot to stave off the backlash that has no doubt resulted from this."

"Of course, I'm deeply thankful for everything you've all done for me," Tyrion said earnestly, at least the lad wasn't ungrateful.

Better than the little shit that was his son. He'd need to discipline the brat later once he wasn't so busy.

With a heavy sigh, Kevan left the two to their own devices, it was time House Lannister mended things with the Crown.

The Septon's 'drunken' reveal reeked of the Redwyne hag's scheming. He did not doubt that the bitch wanted to ruin his House's reputation and weaken their position. More than it already had been, anyway.

How the bitch found out, when Tyrion managed to hide from his ears for so long, was a miracle. They had thought the shriveled grape had been neutered by the King's conquest of the Reach.

Oh, how wrong they had been. Somehow she still manages to make herself a nuisance, despite everything that has happened so far.

One foot in the grave and she was clawing to bring everyone else down with her.

Now, the Crown was his House's only hope of keeping these seething lords at bay. The resentment from the burning of King's Landing was still at play and if given the opportunity they would no doubt overthrow his House.

Marrying a commoner was the stupidest thing his nephew could have done, directly spitting on the pride of his vassals. Thankfully the Reyne's were gone.

He could try and squire one of his sons to the King, or better yet Gerion could be sent to smoothen things out between them. Sending Genna was an option, but with Cersei's resentment towards the older Lannister, that seemed like a terrible decision.

What a time to be a Lannister!

…

(Erlend Mudd, Firmridge)

His lips couldn't help but twitch at the latest information he received from his imprints.

Tyrion had somehow still managed to meet up and marry Tysha behind everyone's backs. Something that was only revealed to the public after the Septon that wed them received a sizable sum from Olenna.

Her action wasn't much of a surprise, the cold war that had been brewing between House Lannister and House Tyrell ever since the tourney ended had been heating up lately. With it only being a matter of time before secrets were revealed left and right.

It would only be a matter of time before the Lannisters retaliated.

How interesting, despite everything that has happened, Tyrion still ended up with Tysha. Practically destroying any hopes the Lannisters had of turning on the Crown.

They were barely keeping their vassals in check before, not helped by their war of intrigue with the Tyrells. At the least, Tyrion could rely on the Marbrands to remain loyal, since his grandmother was a Marbrand and Kevan made sure to keep their relations as amicable as possible.

While his reign did keep things civil, it wasn't like he could order their vassals to stop being dissatisfied.

Erlend contemplated stepping in if an internal war broke out within the Westerlands, he could use it to solidify the Crown's power in the region and centralize his authority similarly to how he'd done with the Reach.

Formally the Reacher lords were ruled by the Tyrells, but in reality, most of them would always take his words above that of Mace or Willas.

He could've revealed Tyrion's secret long ago but decided against it. Olenna was always going to discover it sooner rather than later, and her revealing it was more beneficial than if Erlend did it himself.

Doing it anonymously just didn't have the same effect. Olenna doing it, drove a further wedge between his two wealthiest vassals.

Not to mention the marriage with Tysha denied House Lannister a potential strong ally and opened up room for his daughter Myrcella to eventually take control. As long as Tysha birthed a boy, Tyrion would be scrambling to get an advantageous marriage.

Who better than his natural-born daughter, unifying the claims of both Tywin's lines.

Yes, he'd named his only child by Cersei, Myrcella. It seemed fitting at the time and he had no regrets, she was his first daughter after all. 

Though unlike the canon Myrcella, she shared his dark brown hair, while still retaining her mother's emerald eyes. He was tempted to name her Rose or Harriet just for the fun of it.

Eventually, Erlend decided against it, knowing full well that the old man might reincarnate a gender-bent Harry Potter just to mess with him. Dany and Senya were enough, he didn't want to deal with a third reincarnator.

At least the old man had the decency to confirm they were the only ones with unusual memories. Erlend was unsure if the two reincarnations were the old man's doing, but Visenya did after all arrive at a time where he was at a crossroads, making her incredibly valuable to his growth and development.

Then again, there appeared to be more to it, shit would've been much more difficult had it not been for her guidance. As for Dany, he wasn't too sure why she was reborn. Perhaps the old man wanted to give her a better life. Did ROBs care about that sort of thing?

"Your Majesty, we've received a message from Lord Kevan," Marwyn announced, rushing into the solar, with a speed that left many questioning his age.

Having long since been used to his Grandmaester's peculiarities, "Oh, the lions finally threw in the towel?" Erlend said nonchalantly, chucking away the parchment for later.

"They were never going to directly go against you, even the Tyrell buffoon knows better, let alone a Lannister of all people."

Only an idiot would try and rouse a rebellion at the moment, and as much as Erlend loved messing with his great lords, they weren't all fools. There was a limit to how far they could go.

Not everyone was like Joffrey.

"You have much faith in a House that has recently been plagued with stupidity and foolishness. I commend you on your optimism."

"Fair enough, every House has its bad eggs." Marwyn chuckled, "Lady Malora has also confirmed that she'd made a breakthrough in her research. Exciting stuff that would turn Leyton green with envy." Finally revealing information that mattered.

"Oh… Then we shouldn't keep my dear researcher waiting."

…

"Why is the Drowned God so cowardly?"

Erlend raised an eyebrow at Marwyn, surprised by the sudden question. "What gave you the idea he was a coward?"

"For one he hasn't retaliated at all since you wiped out most of his followers." Marwyn looked puzzled at that, after all even the usually reclusive horse god had acted.

"The answer is both complex, yet so simple at the same time." Not missing a step, Erlend spoke with certainty. "The drowned god is perhaps one of the oldest deities in existence, but he also happens to be one of the weakest."

"The best way to describe him would be that he is a divine parasite, one who relies on his followers and the fear and hatred they induce in the people of Westeros to accrue power. Without them, he has very little actual power in the mortal plane, no better than the strongest sorcerers."

"Still, surely he would be able to accumulate enough power over time with how old he is and the faith he has gathered over several millennia." Marwyn pointed out the glaring hole in his explanation.

Unperturbed by the response, "Maybe, but you're forgetting one key detail in all of this, Marwyn."

"Truly? What could that be?" The mage questioned curiously.

"Me."

"I don't understand."

"If I said I could destroy Westeros just by myself, would you believe it?"

That froze the older mage in his tracks, who eyed his King in shock and trepidation. "Can you?"

"I've never tried, but it shouldn't be too difficult, just incredibly time-consuming and it would drain me dry," Erlend said nonchalantly, not worried at all by the old man's look of disbelief. "So to answer your question… The drowned god isn't a coward, rather he is wise enough to understand the disparity between the two of us, unlike a certain horse deity."

It was sort of an unspoken truce between the two, Erlend even reckoned that the ancient god was preparing to leave Westeros for good and to seek worshippers elsewhere. Far away from these lands, which proved that he was far wiser than his old enemy the Storm God. The Poseidon expy knew when to give up.

Erlend was well aware that this would spell a lot of trouble to whatever land found itself catching the fancy of the sea god, but he couldn't care less. As long as the god didn't interfere with his dynasty and their lands, Erlend had no interest in him.

"You are something else, your Majesty." Deciding to take things in stride, the older man shook his head, numbing himself to the layers that Erlend tended to put on himself.

Just because he preferred to play the game didn't mean he couldn't overturn the board at any time. His enemies should be happy that he played along, otherwise they would all be ashes at the moment.

Still, he was thankful for their efforts in sowing the very seeds that would bring them down. It made things so much easier. No point in hunting them one by one, when they could be herded towards a single location.

"We shan't keep Malora waiting for too long, she might delve into another experiment." With that said, both men picked up their pace. It was best not to dally any longer, lest they be left waiting for hours.

…

(Malora Hightower)

She didn't need to turn to know who had arrived.

Instead, she motioned for the two to come closer, while she peered into the magnifying glass, closely examining the creature's skin and the new markings that had appeared out of nowhere.

"I take it you discovered something new about the children?" Erlend asked, interested in what new findings she had discovered.

"Yes, as you can see, I found something you will no doubt find interesting and may solve one of the dilemmas that has been plaguing us for a while." Malora passed the glass to her lover, urging him to take a look.

Taking the glass in his hands, Erlend observed the skin, the markings becoming clearer to see.

"These are runes, first-men runes to be precise." Surprised by the previously absent marking, Erlend immediately sought to find other markings.

"Ghiscari hieroglyphics, Valyrian scripts, Yi Ti formations, and last but not least First Men runes. Practically every form of magical script." Malora added, further shocking the young conqueror, who continued to examine the skin and recognize the scripts on them.

Deciding to state the obvious, Marwyn put his input, "They weren't there before. Do you know the reason for this?" The mage asked.

"Yes, I suspect it has to do with the preservation coffin Erlend made."

Looking thoughtful, Erlend mulled over that piece of information. "The coffin is only supposed to maintain the body… and keep external forces from coming in touch with it."

"Exactly, I hypothesize that the children have had these runes engraved on them since birth, and it was hidden away by the magic in the air or more precisely the children's magic."

"One thing doesn't make sense though, from what I can make out so far, all of these inscriptions are harmful one way or another. These aren't blessings, Malora, these are powerful curses, meant to bring tragedy upon whoever holds them."

"You always did say that the world itself rejects their existence…" She hinted.

"Oh…" The silence was palpable, as her lover took in the implications of her world.

"No deity or sorcerer would ever deign use all these different scripts together, their pride and arrogance would never accept it. The designs are also incredibly primitive, lacking the intricate and--one could say--artistic form they generally take." Erlend began brainstorming as he usually did when something caught his interest.

She motioned for Marwyn to grab a magnifying glass of his own, his input might help solve this case.

For her part, Malora watched her beloved do his thing. While she could outright say it herself, this was his mystery to solve and she knew how much Erlend loved his mysteries.

Just like that, hours passed as the two magical fanatics went at it, observing the body and compounding their findings, trying to look for the missing key to it all. 

Malora did not stay still, instead choosing to note down all the formations she found on the body. She decided to add it to the manuscript Erlend had started, compiling all the information he'd gathered on runes and their counterparts from other civilizations.

Though unlikely to see the light of day, the manuscript should prove crucial for his descendants. No reason to give up on their heritage, her lover tended to say. Something she agreed with, there was a reason her House was one of the most powerful in Westeros, and a lot of it had to do with their heritage.

As well as not being stupid enough to provoke pointless conflicts, the Dance excluded of course.

Finally, satisfied with his findings, the two lovers began to compare their findings, filling in the gaps that were present in both of their works.

Marwyn, seeing this for what it was, had wisely exited, not wanting to interrupt the King's impromptu courting.

"Of all things, I hadn't expected the world's will to be advanced enough to do such a thing. I wonder how the little tree demons would react if they found out."

Malora rolled her eyes at his somewhat playful tone, "By the time they realize it, it will be too late. I don't think even Bloodraven is aware, despite being constantly surrounded by them."

These scripts were made in such a way that as long as they are close to other so-called children of the forest or were alive themselves, these curses would remain hidden, even if said demon dropped dead.

She assumed even if the bodies weren't close to the other children, just the magic in the air was enough to keep it hidden. Hence why when placed in the preservation coffin, where no external force could interfere, the runes were no longer hidden.

"There's more to this, you know. The dilemma you were worried about, I think this world's will as you call it, maybe behind the decline of magic and the fall of many a pantheon."

"Yet it makes use of magic to curse the children and has done nothing to act against me as far as I'm aware." That left both of them confused.

If it was really 'hostile' to magic, then Erlend as one of its most powerful users would likely have faced far more setbacks, and the success he'd achieved would've never occurred.

A more credible theory would be that the world experienced magical cycles, either flourishing or declining. Though to confirm it, he would require far more data from the era before Empire of the Dawn.

"Perhaps, it's not against magic in particular but it's carriers. There's likely more to it that we are missing." Malora mused to herself.

"Honestly it feels like we've gotten out of one hole and jumped right into another."

======

Note: I felt like the vague 'hidden' mastermind was a bit much, especially seeing as I've buffed a lot of the deities already, and forced some out of retirement, so decided to simplify it a bit and make it neutral-ish. As for the drowned god, I will point out that he was no match for Erlend even when he still had his ironborn followers, something he was well aware of being a parasite and all that. As an ancient being, who's existed for nobody knows how long, he was never going to provoke a battle he knew he was unable to win.