Game of Thrones: Paladin of Old Gods

POV: The Lord of Bear Island;

Castle Mormont.

Some thirteen hours after 3,106 roars and shouts of jubilation rocked forests and caves...

The castle his father Jeor had defended for over thirty years had been set ablaze.

Jorah felt distressed and regretful at this event. Not all was lost, the main hall, built mainly of solid stone, still had a roof. Over 500 of the island's inhabitants had worked tirelessly to allow a decent banquet to be set up, the hall had been cleaned as best as it could be, the soot-stained floor and walls were covered with any leather cloth found within a mile of the castle. All the inhabitants were happy to be able to contribute to giving the best possible party and hospitality to their guests and heroes.

Jorah, in those hours, remembered his father's words.

[ For the people of the South, hospitality is a form of etiquette and decorum. For us Northerners, it is a creed, a trait inherited and imprinted in the blood of the First Men.

Never harm anyone you have ever offered food and drink under your table, Jorah.

There is no greater crime or dishonor than to intentionally shed even a single drop of your host's blood. He who does so will be forever cursed by the gods and by men.

Always remember this son...

Always treat your guest as if they were part of your own family].

Now, the new Lord and protector of the Island were in front of over six hundred guests. The most that the hundred square foot room could support. One wall of the room, damaged and now useless, had even been knocked down to allow three more long tables to fit.

The Mormont warrior heroes, who had fought bravely in the battle now called the 'Battle of Golden and Silver Snow', had sacrificed themselves to allow more of their northern allies to take part in the festivities.

A hundred hearths and tents surrounded the castle. At least half the people of the Island were celebrating.

The Lord of the Isle, as its protector, was to take it upon himself to open the celebrations with a speech.

The man had been working on this for the past three hours...

He had thought several times about what words to say to communicate what he thought in the right way.

The time had come to voice those thoughts.

Jorah, who was two feet higher than the six hundred heads that were staring at him, raised his goblet high and said:

"I would like to propose three toasts:

The first, to celebrate and commemorate our fallen.

None of them will be forgotten.

To the 49 Heroes of House Glover...

To the 76 Heroes of House Dustin...

To the 65 Heroes of House Ryswell...

To the 21 Heroes of House Lannister...

To the 73 Heroes of House Mormont...

And to the 85 Heroes of House Tallhart...

HERE'S TO YOU HEROES!

YOU WHO GAVE YOUR LIVES TO PROTECT A HOUSE IT WAS NOT YOUR DUTY TO DEFEND!

TO YOU, WHO WITH YOUR VITAL FLAME, HAVE GIVEN LIGHT IN THE DARKEST OF TIMES.

YOU, WHO FOUGHT BRAVELY, GAVE UP YOUR HOME, YOUR FAMILY, AND EVERYTHING YOU HELD DEAR IN THIS WORLD.

BUT FROM TODAY, YOUR FAMILIES WILL BE OUR FAMILIES.

YOUR CHILDREN, OURS CHILDREN.

NOW AND FOREVER, WE WILL PROTECT WHAT YOU HOLD MOST DEAR.

I, JORAH OF HOUSE MORMONT, SON OF JEOR MORMONT, SWEAR THIS BEFORE YOU ALL.

TO YOU HEROES!!!"

"TO YOU!!!!!" Thundered more than six hundred people in that hall drinking in their honor.

"The Second toast is dedicated to you, Lord Gerion.

You who took upon yourself the burden of leading the Northern Fleet to victory.

YOU, LORD ADMIRAL, SUCCEEDED IN DEFEATING THE SEA'S MOST FEARED ENEMIES. AND YOU DID IT ON THE GROUND MOST FAVORABLE TO THEM...

HONOR TO YOU, GERION OF HOUSE LANNISTER.

TO YOU SMILING LION.

THANK YOU FOR BRINGING A WARM SMILE TO THE FACE OF EVERY INHABITANT OF THIS ISLAND.

FROM THIS DAY FORWARD, YOU AND YOUR FAMILY WILL ALWAYS BE WELCOME ON BEAR ISLAND.

THE MORMONTS WILL REPAY THIS DEBT OF HONOR AND BLOOD.

TO LORD GERION!!!" Shouted Jorah addressing a group clad in crimson and gold cloaks.

"TO LORD GERION!!!", "CHEERS!!!", "TO THE SMILING LION!!!", "HONOR TO HOUSE LANNISTER!!!". Hundreds of goblets turned to a central table on the left side.

Gerion accepted such praise with joy and smiles. His men around him roared in a festive and jovial manner, taking up their share of the praise as well.

After the confusion dissipated, Jorah began to announce the third and final toast.

"LAST... but not least...

A toast.

To you, Hero of the North.

You, who gave us victory on the mainland.

YOU...

WHO PUT YOUR LIFE ON THE LINE AND FOUGHT WITH ONE OF THE MOST DANGEROUS AND CAPABLE WARRIORS IN WESTEROS, EVEN WHEN VICTORY WAS CERTAIN.

YOU, WHO DID NOT HESITATE TO SACRIFICE YOURSELF FOR THE SAKE OF HUNDREDS OF US.

YOU, WHO MADE THE IMPOSSIBLE POSSIBLE.

YOU, WHO GAVE US THE PRIVILEGE OF WITNESSING WHAT I COULD NEVER BELIEVE I WOULD SEE...

YOU, WHO BROUGHT SAFETY, JUSTICE, AND HONOR, NOT ONLY TO THIS ISLAND... BUT TO THE ENTIRE NORTH.

HERE'S TO YOU, DUNCAN OF HOUSE TALLHART.

TO YOU AND YOUR COMPANIONS! THE GUARDIANS OF WINTER!

MAY WINTER NEVER COME... AND IF IT EVER DOES, MAY YOU ALWAYS BE THERE TO HELP THOSE WHO, LIKE US, NEEDED HEROES.

TO THE GUARDIANS OF WINTER!!! AND THEIR LEADER BLOODY SNOW!!!" Shouted the man with every trace of breath in his lungs, turning the cup towards a white-haired figure over a hundred feet away.

"TO BLOODY SNOWWW!!!!!!", "YYEEEEAAARRRR!!!", "TO THE HEROES OF THE NORTH!!!!", "TO THE GUARDIANS!!!", " TO LORD DUNCAN!!!!"

The screams flared up like a fire. The tremor of the roar was at least twice as loud as the previous toasts.

No one in that room failed to pay their due respect and praise to those legendary figures.

"AND NOW LET'S HAVE FUN!

DRINK!

EAT!

LET US MAKE THIS NIGHT WORTHY OF THE DAY THAT PRECEDED IT." Concluded Jorah with a smile as he returned to his seat in the center of the high table.

"YEAAARRGHH!!!" The guests roared as they tried to take their place at the table as well.

An eleven-year-old stood over his table and thundered:

"TO LORD JORAH!!! AND TO HOUSE MORMONT!"

"TO JORAH!!!", "TO THE MORMONTS!!", "YESSS!!!", "STDUM!, STDUM!, STDUM!", cups, hands, and cutlery rhythmically slammed down on the tables after the fourth toast.

About thirty people in charge of the service began to make their way between the tables of the rooms.

Whole steaming roast chickens, caramelized cooked onions, stuffed piglets, bowls filled with roasted potatoes, white bread spiced or fried in lard, savory cheese-filled pies, and many other culinary delights were served.

Drinks flowed like wildfire. More than forty barrels between, red wine, beer, vodka, whiskey, and even 'Taileys', the finest drink in the North.

After a few minutes, Jorah finally noticed that a member of his family was not present at the large table.

"Where's Dacey, Auntie?" Jorah asked his Aunt Maege.

"... Dacey will be here shortly.

She's been getting ready for over two hours now.

She didn't take my advice on what clothes to wear for the party...

Emily, the wife of our chief steward is helping her." Maege.

"Ah...I see.

Don't you think it would be appropriate to tell her..." Jorah was interrupted.

"No!

I gave my word that we would not interfere, nephew.

I am confident that another divine miracle will come upon our home." Maege.

"... As you say, my Lady." Jorah crossed his fingers.

If that miracle had indeed happened, the future of House Mormont would be brighter than ever.

For Jorah, this past month felt like a daydream.

He had found the love of his life, House Mormont would be united with one of the most powerful houses in the North. Jorah himself would become the new Lord of Barrowton.

The Mormonts had just sealed and signed a golden contract with House Tallhart. Perhaps the best offer of all the Northern Houses.

His Island had just repelled one of the most onerous and feared attacks by their sworn enemies.

They had won a victory that would instill fear in the hearts of the Ironborn for at least an entire generation.

Probably, for the next five to ten years, House Mormont would only have to worry about attacks from the Free People...

And now... a concrete window of possible union between House Mormont and House Tallhart was opening.

The Hero of the North, Duncan of House Tallhart... An eleven-year-old boy whom Jorah, a dozen hours ago, had christened in his mind as the 'Most Feared Swordsman and Warrior in the North'.

Perhaps only Ser Barristan and Ser Arthur Dayne could have rivaled that boy in a duel.

That's what Jorah thought.

He, too, was a valiant swordsman, perhaps the best in all of The Isle, and precisely because he was competent in the matter, and was also adept at assessing the martial abilities of others, he knew that there was no way he could hold his own against Bloody Snow.

'Those sword movements...

That fluidity and decision in the blows.... 'No, I've never seen anything like it. ' Thought the cynical, down-to-earth, and realistic Jorah.

' Perhaps House Tallhart is already more powerful and wealthy than both House Stark and House Bolton combined...

No, an underestimate...

Perhaps it is already the third most powerful House in Westeros.'

End POV.

---------------

POV: Gerion Lannister;

Castle Mormont.

A few minutes after a hopeful Lord finished processing his thoughts...

' May the gods strike me down...

I can well believe it now that that 'Number' was correct.

A monster... there are no other words.

House Lannister absolutely must forge an ironclad relationship with House Tallhart...

No,... not just House Tallhart...the North.

Leobald's nephew may very well gain more of a following and support than Ned Stark himself...

He is like Tywin fifteen years ago, the true ruler of the realm.

The first Knight of the King.

From now on, when the rumors of what happened today will spread to every castle in the North and Westeros, the fame and influence of Bloody Snow will reach heights perhaps never seen before...

[In the North, nothing will move that Bloody Snow doesn't want to.]

To hell with Tywin's plans to marry Joffrey to Sansa Stark...

We must have Duncan on our plate.

Cersei is pregnant again...

If the baby is a girl, we'll need to move immediately.

For the sake of House Lannister and the Kingdom.' Repeatedly thought ' The Smiling Lion' as he masked his concern and anxiety with smiles, laughter, and jokes.

Gerion continued to praise himself and the Gods for choosing that day almost ten years ago at a wedding, to spend his time and fun in the company of Leobald Tallhart.

He sincerely found Leobald, a person worth forming bonds with, regardless of the fame, glory, and wealth he had behind him.

For the past three years, Gerion's main role was to take care of the Lannister Fleet and to take care of social and business relations with House Tallhart.

A role he relished.

"Lord Gerion, may I steal a word with you." Said a teenage voice behind him.

Gerion turned and granted a warm smile to the Hero of the North, Bloody Snow.

"Of course Legend of the North! AHAHAHAH !!! My honor, my lord!" Said Gerion opening both arms as if to grant a hug.

The Smiling Lion snapped two fingers to signal a couple of his men in front of him to make room for his table guest.

The two men snapped to their feet and were away from the table in seconds.

"Please, Lord Duncan, take a seat at our too red and too glittery gold table! Phuahahahaha!!!" Gerion.

"Ahah! Thank you, my Lord." Bloody Snow.

About five minutes later of jokes, playful questions, and formality...

"So, oh Great Bloody Snow, what can a humble but rich sailor does for you?" Gerion.

"No, mighty and undefeated 'Admiral of the North,' the question is, 'What can House Tallhart do for you, my lord?'

My uncle told me what you did and what you had to pay for it.

In addition to the undue heroic sacrifice of your men, you, my lord, even went against the direct orders of Lord Tywin Lannister to help us.

We would not have achieved such a victory on the seas and in the port without your help, Lord Gerion.

[House Tallhart and the North, they do not forget." Bloody Snow.

"... If you put it that way, my Lord...

Will you marry me, Lord Duncan?

I'm not a good Lady yet, but I can learn I swear.

I know, the age difference is considerable, but the new beauty products from House Tyrell work real miracles!..." Said Gerion in a tone that was at first glance serious.

"Spuzz!!! Cough! Cough!...Ahaha!

AHAHAHAHA!!!!" The boy spat out the mead he was sipping almost choking on his laughter.

"PHUAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!" Thundered The Smiling Lion, igniting a chorus of laughter throughout the table.

"You nearly choked 'The Hero of the North' to death, my Lord... Cough... Cough!

Speaking seriously, my Lord...

Might I ask you a not-so-subtle question?" Bloody Snow.

"You may, my lord... But please take care of my soft, delicate skin. Ahaha." Gerion's gaze became more focused toward his interlocutor's eyes.

"I would like to know, if possible, how many ships did House Lannister perpetually lose during Euron and Victarion Greyjoy's attack?.... " The boy asked politely.

"... My ' Seeker of Brightroar', another Galley, a Caracca, and three merchant ships anchored in these shores, are all that remain, my lord...

The forty ships that were moored to the harbor, along with the eight that defended it, we're all lost." Lord Gerion replied seriously. A spark of anger and disappointment flared in his feline eyes.

"... I see.

Lord Gerion, a few hours ago I reached an agreement with Lord Jorah and my Uncle.

In addition to the 4 Galleys, 8 Caracas, and 10 Merchantmen that my House owes you, you will bring back 48 other longships formerly owned by House Drumm with you to Lannisport.

Those ships, from now on, will belong to House Lannister." Bloody Snow.

"... But those ships rightfully belong to the North, my lord... They are your spoils of war. I...

We have made no such valuable contribution to this fight.

It would be... " Gerion was interrupted.

"It would be fitting for House Lannister to get more and better, my Lord.

Those pieces of wood don't hold a candle to our Ships.

This is only part of the just reward you deserve, my Lord." Said Duncan.

Gerion thought about it for a moment and finally agreed that this was not the time to show off the strength and bravado of the Lion of House Lannister.

They needed those ships urgently.

Many contracts and trade agreements had to be fulfilled on time, or House Lannister would pay a heavy price.

"... Thank you, my Lord.

The Lions have a good memory as well, I assure you." Gerion bowed his head as a formal gesture of thanks.

"Two-thirds of our Legion, along with eight hundred sailors from our fleet, will help you escort those ships, my lord.

King Robert should be recalling the war banners soon...

Lannisport will probably be the rallying point. I hope you can accommodate our men until we arrive, my lord.

We will of course repay the trouble... " This time it was Duncan who was interrupted.

"Watch your words boy...

We are still the richest people on the continent.

My House can afford to offer hospitality to our friends and allies." Said Gerion in a dismissive and ironic tone.

"... Well, we thank you, my lord.

Since you have no shortage of gold, Lord Gerion...

I would like to send a message to Balon Greyjoy... I wonder if House Lannister, or specifically 'The Smiling Lion' would like to participate in a modest and theatrical project... " Bloody Snow.

"... House Lannister loves the play, my Lord.

You have my fullest attention, Bloody Snow."

About five minutes later...

"... I love it...

Yes, you have my word.

I will help you deliver the 'message', Lord Duncan."

End POV.

--------------------------------------------------------------

POV: Brywen;

Castle Mormont.

About twenty minutes after a boy returned to his table...

Four of the long banquet tables had been set up for over two hundred members of the Guardians.

The rest were on guard duty, along with half of the Northern forces, at the docks with prisoners of war.

All were merrily celebrating by commemorating their four brothers-Ronald, Jonathan, Ethan, and Jeremy-with stories about them.

Their comrade, idol, hero, and General were at the far end of the table. In a back-to-the-wall, hard-to-escape position.

Lord Duncan was surrounded by comrades. He hardly had room to breathe, let alone move.

Brywen was less than ten feet away from him.

More than thirty of them were listening to Barney's adventures...

"I SWEAR! THAT'S HOW IT WENT THAT NIGHT AFTER THE BANQUET!

I was naked and lying on that bed made of silk pillows... I had a blindfold over my eyes and my hands tied to my wrists with a taut rope...

Prince Oberyn kept whispering in my ear:

[ Are you afraid boy?]

And I answered:

No, my Prince.

And he...

[ So... You're not afraid I'm gonna poison you?

I have drunk much this evening... my hand is not as steady as it should be... One drop more than necessary...

... It would be risky, O valiant Guardian of Winter...]

The fool kept stroking my chest as he said this.

I swear to you...I have never felt such intense shivers in all my life!

I kept begging:

'Please don't do it, my prince! Don't do it! '

And he:

[ I'm sorry, Barney. You were the one who said you had no attraction to the female gender...

My partner Ellaria was very... very disappointed...

She took this challenge personally...

I have to do this].

At that point, the sweetish liquid wet the tip of my lips and slipped down my throat.

Gods only know what magical concoction he made me drink...

I began to feel a fire in my chest...I was bubbling with energy and pleasure. I felt the urge to break free from those ropes and devour the world.

Then they pulled off my blindfold...

My vision was blurry, and everything seemed to be spinning in circles... but then I saw her.

That woman... no... THAT GODDESS! She was standing over me...

She was wearing only a jade mask... Oberyn was behind her focused with his eyes closed worshipping and serving the Goddess...

The rest is history, comrades." Barney finished his narration, abandoning the tale midway through...

"... I don't believe you.

Do you really want us to believe that you had such a depraved adventure with Prince Oberyn and Ellaria Sand...? Pff! Ridiculous!" Reprimanded Derret, many laughed in accompaniment of his words.

"I'M TELLING YOU IT HAPPENED!!!

It was the most incredible experience of my entire life!!!

I will defy anyone who dares to call me a liar!" Barney.

"Even if it were true... and I emphasize 'IF'...

Explain to me what this has to do with Ronald, Jonathan, Ethan, or Jeremy!!! We were telling stories in which they were present!" Reprimanded Commander Gellert.

"Both Ronald and Jeremy would have wanted to know every detail of this story!!!

Jeremy was more depraved than me!!!" Barney.

"Ahahahahah!!!", " Yes, that's right!!", " To Jeremy, the 'depraved'!", " To Ronald!!!". The mood and laughter of the table lifted.

Yet another toast rose for the four lost comrades.

All had already passed the initial stage of [Intoxication]...now they had reached the [I'm tipsy but not yet drunk] stage.

"General!!!

Our fallen comrades would have liked to know what happened that night in Sunspear when Princess Arianne and Lady Tyene 'accidentally' stumbled late at night into your chambers!!!" Said a comrade.

"YESSS!!!", "Tell us General!!!" Thundered a dozen comrades in unison. All attention passed to a shocked boy at the head of the table. His face became purple.

"I tell you for the last time... NOTHING HAPPENED!!!

I MERELY ESCORTED ARIANNE AND TYENE BACK TO THEIR ROOMS!!!!!" Roared a wrathful eleven-year-old as he stood up.

"Liar!" Thundered a voice in reply from somewhere.

"WHO SAID THAT?! SHOW YOURSELF IF YOU DARE, COWARD!!!" About fifty guardsmen burst out laughing at the scene.

"Come on, General...

Even Brywen hooked up that night!" Said Edgard pointing at his comrade.

"HEY!!! YOU DAMNED SNITCH!" Brywen stood up trying to grab his target in front of him to no avail.

"What!!! Even Brywen?!!! By the Seven Hells... I'm a basket case..." Said the General in a surprised, shocked, and somewhat disappointed tone.

"MY LORD!... What... What do you mean by that?!" A visibly offended Brywen asked.

"Nothing, Brywen... Forgive me. It's just the vain words of a drunk eleven-year-old..." Wrenched the General...

Brywen, in with a remonstrating tone, asked:

"And you, my Lord?...

Why don't you tell us how it's going with LADY DACEY?

Has the maiden already melted into the arms of the Bear wielding Longclaw?..." A chorus of provocation and curiosity echoed throughout the table.

The eleven-year-old was unseated by that blow.

With a flushed and embarrassed face, he shrieked back.

"YOU! HOW DARE YOU! ARE YOU TALKING TO YOUR LORD GE..." The rebuke broke almost on the finish. A wave of silence fifty feet from the belligerent group hit them...

Something was wrong...

Something unexpected was happening on the other side of the table.

"General!" A Guardian slipped through the pile of bodies to relay a message.

"Lady Dacey! Lady Dacey is asking for you, General!

She is waiting at the head of the table." Reported Jed urgently.

"What?!... I... No, I'm too drunk and in no condition to talk to her right now!" Spat Bloody Snow panicking.

"BUT GENERAL!!! The girl dressed and groomed herself like a real lady!!!

She did it for you, my Lord!!!" Jed.

"... No... No! The answer is no, Jed...

Communicate to Lady Dacey that I apologize and that...

HEY, WHAT ARE YOU DOING?!! LEAVE ME!!!

LEAVE ME NOW!!! HOW DARE YOU!!!

HEY!

WHO TOUCHED MY BUTT?!?

NO, STOP!

YOU'LL PAY FOR THIS, YOU COWARDS!

WHEN WE GET BACK TO CAMP I'LL SHOW YOU!!!

300 LAPS OF THE FIELD FOR EVERYONE! 400!!

NO!!! STOP!!!

LEAVE ME, TRAITORS!!!" Shrieked the boy as he was carried through the air by a human chain.