Raiden's Storm (ASOIAF)

[Edric's POV]

"It seems that the cold is not treating you too kindly." Raiden Shogun remarked, observing my condition. 

The worst part of it was that I was just as sick in the Plane of Euthymia, making fighting more of a struggle than a learning experience. It was the third day of my fever, and it hadn't gotten much better.

Though, on the bright side, Winterfell was not too far. I could enjoy one night of comfort there.

"Yeah, well, I haven't been anywhere this cold… ever." All the furs in the world didn't seem to be enough. "I'll just have to push through it. It'll improve eventually."

"What you need is rest." Raiden shook her head. "Your condition may just worsen if you persist without making a recovery."

"... I've rested long enough."

"What good would you be to anything up at the Wall in this state? I'm certain it isn't any warmer up there."

"It's my duty. I won't sleep in comfort when there's a hundred thousand wildlings seeking to invade my Realm. While I can still knock an arrow, I'm well enough…"

"... So stubborn." She sighed helplessly , sitting down. "Those wildlings will be the least of your Realm's problems if you freeze to death. Now, if you refuse to rest there, the least you can do is rest here."

"What good would that do?" I raised an eyebrow. "Everything that happens here does not affect my real body. Well, physically, at least."

"Not directly. However, a strong mind can fortify the body. This illness has unsettled you - as much as you like to act otherwise."

"And your solution is?"

"Lay down beside me."

"... Uh-huh."

"What are you thinking?" She blinked. "It is nothing nefarious."

"If it works." I shrugged, stepping forward. "How do you want me to lay down?"

"Place your head on my lap."

Raiden must've learnt a few things from watching the ladies in King's Landing.

"Surely that will take the fever away." I remarked with a clear tone of sarcasm, though I did not deny her request. After turning my back, I laid down and made myself comfortable. "What now?"

"Clear your mind of all distractions." She instructed, reaching for my left arm and moving it to my chest. Afterwards, she touched the back of my left hand, which carried my broken fealty. "Be still and tranquil, clear as the water of a lake. Fall into the ocean of your desires or float freely in the wind. Whichever place leaves you without worry - reach out to it."

Perhaps the place I wanted to go back to most was the distant past, where my life was sparkling with endless possibilities, and I did not have a worry in the world. When my dad would drag me away from the computer with yet another handyman lecture, when my mother would make the most delectable Sunday roast imaginable with sweet-smelling pancakes and a fruit smoothie for desert or when my brother would display the full supremacy of Swadian Knights on the field.

Yet, I couldn't. It was so distant a memory that those feelings were foreign to me entirely. I felt like an imposter there. The present was no more pleasant, with me freezing my premature balls off. That only left the future - what I was fighting for.

I took a deep breath and let myself go.

…

The realms of mankind stood united as one, triumphing over the Night King and his army of undead. I was the one to lead the great charge, smashing him into oblivion with my warhammer. The winter cold would come to an end and spring would bring a fresh breath of life with it.

Then I threw the biggest party in recent memory, drinking, feasting, hunting and fighting like no tomorrow. No being in existence could dull my celebration. My greatest battle had come to pass and now I alone stood at the summit of the world. 

An army of winged knights - the heroes of the Long Night - lined the path to the Sept of Baelor, forming a carpet of gold, black and steel. Blackened steel was their armour yet they all carried bows of goldenheart with cloaks to match. 

Robb Stark led Arya down, who caught the eyes of the hall with her stunning beauty. She paced with confidence - the air and grace of a queen. 

"All yours." Robb smiled, leaving her to me after removing Arya's House Stark-styled cloak. He'd pat my back before turning away.

It must have been quite a number of years, for Arya had the appearance of a strapping young woman. For once, I wouldn't have to push her away. There was no guilt as I wrapped my second Baratheon cloak around her and took the lady for my queen.

As we spoke the words and phased into the great hall, the doors suddenly burst open as an absolute unit stormed in. 

"May every whore in the Seven Kingdoms rejoice; Big Bobby B is back in town!"

I raised an eyebrow. What in seven hells?

Robert Baratheon had come alive, looking to be at his peak, holding one giant bottle of wine in one hand and a reluctant Eddard Stark in the other. The streak of my dreams going in strange directions remained undefeated.

Everyone acted like things were perfectly normal as he strolled forward.

"They said who let me in the kitchen, Ned. I let myself in and cooked better than any one of them!" Robert using Gen Z terms wasn't something I thought I needed.

"Aye… your decision has aged well." Eddard Stark agreed, nodding solemnly.

"It couldn't have aged better!" Robert exclaimed, laughing. "Our houses bound together at last, my wildest boy with your wildest girl. Look at how they tamed each other, hahahahah."

"Arya always said she'd never be a lady." Eddard Stark sniffled suddenly, making Robert stop. "She has grown a great deal since then-"

"Are you crying, Ned?"

"No..." Eddard Stark denied it - even though he looked somewhat teary-eyed. "Just... I'm so proud of my girl. She will make for a great queen."

"With how she stares at him, we'll be grandsires together by the next year!" Robert laughed. "There's no greater occasion for tears of joy, Ned. Go on - cry a waterfall!"

"No, I'm not crying-"

"Come on, I'll cry with you."

Seeing them, I couldn't help but smile. I knew they were both dead, yet I'd imagine they'd react similarly if they had lived. Such a deep friendship was more priceless than any treasure in the world. Nothing could break it.

Arya had smiled too, shaking her head. "Our fathers like to embarrass us, don't they?"

"That they do." I chuckled.

Eventually, Robert separated from Eddard and walked up to me.

"If it isn't the man of the hour, eh? Come ride with me, boy. I got some words to share."

"... Ride?" I raised an eyebrow. "Why'd you want that?"

"This wedding's fake anyways." Robert laughed, making me chuckle. Now, he was breaking my dream's fourth wall. "We never talked much. You'll have a lifetime with Arya - if you live so long."

"Very well."

I was curious where this would take me, following Robert out of the Red Keep and finding my trusty black destrier. We rode off into the Kingswood together under the veil of the night.

"Nothing like the wind brushing across your face as you ride," Robert spoke, coming to an eventual stop before dismounting. "Far enough from all the flatterers and lickspittles, no?"

"Mhm." I nodded, taking in the scenery as I did the same. "It's a breath of fresh air."

"One of the things I rue most is never knowing you well enough, Edric." Robert was not so cheery anymore, almost looking sad. "You were the son I should've always had by my side - Cersei be damned. If I had known..."

"It's in the past," I remarked.

"So it is." He nodded. "You need not be so cold to me, Edric. You already let me die at the Battle of the Fords."

"..." My expression did not change. "You let yourself die, Robert. You charged in like a fool-"

"As you knew I would." Robert smiled, chuckling. "You could've prevented it."

"Should I have played babysitter instead? What if Stannis paid the price for it?"

"I'm not angry at you, Edric. Not at all." He kept his smile. "You've become so great a warrior and, in time, will be a greater king than I could dream of having been. Even if you may not think fondly of me, know I couldn't be more proud of you. Doubtlessly - you are a son any man would be proud to own to."

"I'm not ungrateful to you," I replied, shaking my hand. "I only am King today because you legitimised me and refused to take another wife. You gave me my strength and blood, the inherited loyalties of many lords."

"Yet you'd never call me your father wholeheartedly, would you?"

"No."

"I don't blame you. You have fonder memories of your first father." He chuckled, seemingly knowing everything he shouldn't. "All you had was the image of a drunken, boasting, wastrel who only took interest when you soared. To that end, I stripped you of the life you had made for yourself. In part, my selfishness has made you the person you are today."

"Again, it's in the past," I remarked. "No use in regretting it now."

"You were born with wings, Edric. That is why the wind heeds your call. It's your innermost desire to be free, and I took that freedom from you. You should've been the world's knight, going wherever your heart desires. Though... you are right. A dead man's regrets are moot." He smiled, sighing. "All I can leave you with is some words of advice."

"And what advice would that be?"

"Only words you already know." Robert smiled. "Sometimes you are more like Stannis than any one of us. You know how he is. Awfully dull in his duty, honour... a bitter man. Most of his life is a misery because he makes it so."

"Don't speak for me, ghost. I am not at all like Stannis." I chuckled, finding the accusation absurd.

"Ah, Renly's mask might fool everyone else, but it does not fool me. I'm you, after all. I know Edric Storm better than anyone else."

"Oh, really? Now you're me."

This dream just keeps getting better.

"You know, when you get drunk and act out of left field - or so you believe... that is the real you. You seek love wherever it may be and take it. You're not afraid to have your fun."

"So, a womaniser?" I questioned. "Brilliant."

"No shame in it, boy. It's in your blood, to be virile and unrestrained. Only you can chain yourself - as you always have." Robert patted my back. "You're a young man; you should have a taste of the world. The right way, hahahaha. Only when you make the Seven, I'll consider you a real man."

"The day I fuck a woman from the Iron Islands is the day I drown myself. Besides, I don't need your approval."

"Hahahaha." 'Robert' laughed. "Well, they are the fishiest of them all. Dirty, salty and rocky bitches. Who knows, you might fancy 'em?"

"..." I frowned. "No way in hell."

"Don't know till you try."

"Yeah, I'm good."

"Alright, alright. One last thing. Be wary of yourself."

"Rather contradicting, don't you think? First, you suggest being unrestrained, and now you ask me to be wary of myself."

"Now, hear me out innit bruv." Robert raised a finger.

"... I don't have anything else to do, I suppose."

"Arthur Astley couldn't hurt a bloody fly; now he's running around and breaking skulls and smiting people down with hardly any remorse. You see what I mean? The old you would be terrified."

"That's how the world is. The weak die and make way for the strong." I refuted. "If I stayed the same person I was, I would've gone nowhere in life. I would've died an insignificant death."

"Yes, there is justification behind each action, but... the deeper down this rabbit hole you go, the less that justification matters until it becomes entirely moot. Before you know it, the darkness within will consume you, and the world will fear a tyrant even more catastrophic than the Night King."

"It matters not to me. Let my enemies fear me; let them drown in terror before I even face them." I smiled, eyeing 'Robert'. "It only means I will have to dirty my hands less. The ends justify the means, as I see it."

"Ever the martyr..." Robert chuckled. "Sacrificing yourself for a better world and a timeless, exalted legacy. Yet, fighting all of these battles can no longer be called a sacrifice, can it? For you take pleasure in it."

"See it as you like. It matters not to me."

"Well, then. Since you've chosen this path... we may as well see it to the end." He grinned as his body began to fade. "Serve the wildlings true terror, Edric Storm. Engrave your name into their hearts."

The dream came to an end.

It was supposed to be one free from worries, wasn't it? Yet they trespassed into it regardless...

I've wasted Raiden's efforts, more likely than not.

~

I'd wake not long after, in the comfort of a feather bed. It felt much better than anything I'd had slept on in ages. Alas, as I became better aware of my surroundings, a feeling of anxiety struck me. Like that feeling you have when you oversleep an alarm and wake up only hours later.

Shit...

Why am I here?

"You're finally awake." Arya yawned, sitting at my bedside. "I feared that you'd sleep as long as you did in King's Landing that one time."

Now, that was one long coma...

"How long has it been?" I immediately questioned.

"Only two days and one night. When you didn't wake the day before, your men elected to take you to Winterfell. So... here we are."

I felt much better, doubtless to say. It seems that Raiden forced me to remain unconscious until I had sufficient rest. I was half furious and half grateful as she floated about in the background. She could've at least asked me... well, I probably would've stubbornly refused either way.

"So, it's dark out."

"Mhm." Arya turned to the side, grabbing a bowl containing some disgusting green liquid I had no desire of drinking. "Maester Luwin made this medicine for you. It's been helping you recover so far."

"I... I'm fine." I smiled, shaking my head. "With one more night of rest, I should be well enough to ride at dawn."

"... I'm not wasting it." Arya frowned, nudging closer to me. "You're going to take this medicine. It'll help you, besides."

"... Very well."

I sighed, hoping it was not too bad. I took the bowl and had the slightest of sips. Oh, yes, it was as bad as I had imagined. I wanted to spit it out, probably at Arya (unintentionally), but I restrained myself and went through the misery of this medieval concoction - bit by bit.

Modern medicine is so much better it's not even funny... if only I were a scientific doctor. Unfortunately, that kind of thing is beyond me.

Though, if I worked at my medicine skill tree...

Maybe I could cook something up.

The idea sounds almost fun. Mixing a bunch of shit together, testing its effectiveness. Except I'd probably be misfortunate enough to create a poison instead and end up killing someone by accident...

"Finally." Arya chuckled. "I thought you'd never finish it."

"It tasted wonderful." I smiled bitterly, feeling my stomach churn. "Send Maester Luwin my thanks, if you will. Though... I can't rest quite yet. I'm starving."

"Stay right here. I won't be long."

As she walked out, I'd get out of bed and stretch a bit.

Lightning sparked across my body, and I felt my strength return to me.

Not too long now, Robb... just hold out a while longer.

Though, who am I kidding, you probably have everything under control. If Jon could hold out with the scraps of the Night's Watch for several days, the banners of the North should hold the Wall for as long as needed.

Still, I can't be missing out.

We'd ride out at dawn, as I planned.