Chapter 7

"How long will you need to finish her?"

"It takes as long as it takes, Osric, some things just can't be sped up."

"It's fine, Fenolis, as far as I'm concerned you have all the time in the world, can you give me your best guess?"

"Half an hour, perhaps a little more, quality takes time, Osric, doubly so when magic is involved."

"That should be more than enough, thanks for indulging me, Fenolis, can you answer a few more questions?"

"That would depend on what kind of questions you're interested in."

"Hmm, you already told me a bit about it, so how about that war with the Ironborn, can you answer me a few questions about it?"

"It's quite rare that your kind doesn't fight one another, so I honestly don't see where your interest in this war is coming from, but if you insist, I'm happy to sate your curiosity."

"It's obvious that the Baratheons will crush them going by what my father told us of King Robert's prowess, but why would they decide to rebel against our king in the first place?"

"Ah yes, I nearly forgot that you're a Stark since you caught on so quickly, it's quite simple really, some of your kind just don't have a single loyal bone in their body, it is what it is."

"You aren't seriously telling me the Ironborn will rebel against the king just because they think they can get away with it, right?"

"Just so, it seems you've hit the nail on the head, that's how you humans say it, yes?"

"You can't be serious, Fenolis, not even the Greyjoys would sink that low, what's the real reason, what do they even want to get out of this?"

"You seem mad, Osric, I understand where you're coming from, but as I said, it is what it is, your kind can be very irrational."

"Even a House with a glorified squid on its banner shouldn't be that slimy, do they really think that they can break their oaths that easily?"

"Hehe, I seem to recall that the House of your mother has a fish on its banner, Osric, can you really afford to call other Houses slimy like that?"

"Ugh, fine."

"A change of topic it is, will King Robert put the Greyjoys to the sword for their treason?"

"My, I'm actually surprised how predictable that question was, you Starks do love your justice, don't you?"

"It's pretty adorable how excited you got once the topic changed to putting traitors to the sword, but I will have to disappoint you, the Greyjoys will survive their folly."

"Come now, Fenolis, I know King Robert pardoned plenty of our enemies in the last war, but this is too much, isn't it?"

"..."

Fenolis for her part just remained silent and focused on her work while Osric did his best to figure out what had caused her silence as he was sure that she wasn't too fond of the squids herself. And while he supposed there was a chance that this particular moment simply required her attention, the timing seemed just a bit too off for him to leave the matter ignored. Especially since Osric's heart had despite his fading anger already accepted her as a friend, and while he very much so doubted the ancient plant-kin would appreciate being reminded of whatever had silenced her, Osric also knew that Fenolis was tougher than she looked.

And while his mother would have most certainly disagreed with his desire to find out more about Fenolises past than she was willing to give, Osric's curiosity and dislike of wasting time won out in the end. Yet how he was going to break open that shell of silence she had created was another matter entirely, as he had learned the hard way that Fenolis had little trouble getting under his skin for some reason. Which was a little problematic since the massive dryad only lacked its shell from what Osric could see before him, not that the danger to the weirwood did anything to stifle his curiosity and wish to help.

"Did I say something wrong, Fenolis?"

"Hmm, no worries, Osric, just a few bad memories."

"About the Ironborn?"

"Just so."

"Are you okay?"

"I will be, as I said, no worries."

"Hmm, if you say you're fine, does that mean you can tell me what that was?"

"If with, that, you mean my silence, I was simply thinking about the past and the visions of their fate."

"Fate, as in the end of House Greyjoy?"

"Not quite, the Ironborn aren't too fond of our weirwoods, and we're not that fond of them in return, but there will actually be a Greyjoy that will pray to our shared gods, it's actually a little sad from what I've been told."

"I'm sure the Ironborn have cut down your weirwoods in the hundreds over the ages, and by your own words they will become traitors out of convenience, I don't see why they should be pitied."

"You say that now, but I'm sure that will change, you're the kind of Stark that bonds with everything that breathes and has a shred of honour."

"There's a small problem with that belief of yours, Fenolis, since when do those squids have honour?"

"Osric, even this dryad I'm creating for you will be unique, not a single being on this world is born finished, we all change, and the Iron Islands aren't the North, just because life turned them into scum doesn't mean they can't improve."

"And I will remind you that House Stark, before our alliance, has cut down its fair share of weirwoods as well, my little Friend."

"You really believe the Ironborn can be saved from their ways?"

"Some, most assuredly, though the fate of the Ironborn as a whole is still up to the gods, mayhaps they will see reason and repent for the suffering their people have spread across Westeros."

"Or perhaps they will simply embrace their mockery of a god even further, it's out of our hands, Osric."

"If they could reform, should I ask my father to show them mercy when the time comes?"

"Your Father is the Warden of the North, Osric, he will give them exactly as much justice and mercy as they deserve, and you said not too long ago that this King Robert of yours will judge them too mildly."

"What's wrong with changing your mind and showing mercy, Fenolis?"

"You were the one that said, nobody is born finished, and that we all change."

"Starks are always a bit abnormal, but you're confusing even for a Stark, you know that?"

"I honestly can't tell if you're as dense as lead with a heart of gold, or if you're a convoluted genius for your age, you're actually pretty weird, Osric."

"Weird, huh, says the old lady that for years spies in absolute silence on children from behind her magical tree, but sure, I'm the weird one."

"Hey!"

"You know I'm right, Fenolis, the truth is the truth."

"That doesn't mean you have to put it like that, Osric!"

"Do you even understand how that sounds?"

"I would say it sounds like the truth to me."

"Ugh, that's enough of you for one night, what do you want your dryad to be called?"

"I suppose you have a point, so how about Nimis, Osric and Nimis has a nice ring to it."