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A Song of Grace & Fury

A stranger from distant lands and a continent on the verge of civil war. A perfect recipe for a tale of legend, except this stranger was a little too peculiar to function as a mythical hero and the so-called 'distant land' was actually a completely different world. So no, this couldn't work as that. A better interpertation would be a vacation. What was the might of a people subjugated by dragons against one who subjugated the very beasts they bowed to? ...Well, it would at least be amusing if nothing else. Wait, the dragons had long gone extinct? ...Motherfuc- - Elden Ring OC x ASOIAF/Game of Thrones, I put this here because there's no tag for Elden Ring on WN. Obligatory; All rights go their respective owners, I own nothing except my OCs. And, don't translate or 'share' my stuff, much obliged.

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61 Chs

Blood & Honour

Robb put a hand on the long table before him, and calmly looked into the crimson eyes of his greatest ally, and perhaps the greatest present threat to the Seven Kingdoms. The flecks of gold seemed to spiral with unkempt mischief as his mother reassuringly squeezed his hand under the table.

He'd have to be a great fool to not notice the sudden shift hanging about the air. A greater fool still to not notice that when Karl spoke, ALL of the River Lords lowered their gazes and listened with more intent than they did Edmure Tully.

Quickly, Karl turned about his left foot to stare at one of the Vale Lords sitting at the end.

A tall, gaunt man, with eyes the colour of stone and long hair that shared it. He wore a brown tabard, and a great bronze shield was sewn into the shoulder, with iron studs dotted throughout, surrounded by an ancient language Robb didn't recognise.

"You there. Are you loyal to House Arryn or to..." He gestured at the sweating Littlefinger with his head, "That?"

The man cocked his head, then glowered in the shade of the Great Hall where he sat, "House Royce will always serve the true Lords of the Eyrie."

The Eyrie was the seat of House Arryn, and the ancient castle was to the Vale what Winterfell was to the North.

"That is Lord Yohn Royce." His mother whispered quietly, answering Robb's question before he could even speak it, "Lord of Runestone. He urged Lysa to join your war effort when we met last."

He remembered the Lord of Runestone, from when he had bested his father, Eddard Stark, then Rodrik Cassel, Winterfell's Master-at-arms, in quick succession on his way to the Wall.

Robb's attention was drawn to Karl's amused smile, moreso because he had no idea what the strange 'man' had planned. He was to help Robb convince the more unruly among his bannermen to simmer down and he'd done that, but... his intentions with this new line of questioning were a little too unclear for comfort.

"Then, I take it you were loyal to Jon Arryn?"

Littlefinger jumped to his feet before Yohn Royce could answer, with eyes skittishly wandering around those in attendance, "My lords we mus-"

"Quiet now." Karl hushed him with a finger and a grin.

And then, like Theon at Winterfell so long ago, Petyr Baelish fell back onto his chair, gasping for breath as Catelyn pleaded to Robb with her eyes, asking him to put a stop to whatever Karl was doing to her childhood friend.

Unfortunately, Robb could only keep calm and watch... it was all he could do.

"Then, Yohn. I would like to profess to you a crime." 

Yohn Royce raised a brow, solemn and thoughtful, "What crime?"

Karl pointed a finger at Petyr without turning his head, "I charge that man with the death of Jon Arryn..." Then he turned to look Robb in the eyes, "And the death of Eddard Stark."

Robb's heart drummed against his chest. It drowned out the commotion and the outrage of the gathered lords. He looked to his side, and caught his mother's shocked eyes and quivering lips. He looked to the other, and caught the same shock on the face of his uncle, Edmure Tully. Petyr quickly jumped to his feet again, encountering no resistance this time.

"On what basis? If we could fling around such vile accusations freely, the realm would be in utter chaos!"

Then, the great oaken doors of the great hall slammed shut and a strong wind shrieked like a ghast, slipping through the cracks in the red sandstone of Riverrun's ancient walls.

Karl smiled wide, and for a moment, they saw him for what he really was.

With smouldering eyes burning in an abyss of black, and sharp teeth that belonged to no man. The creature before them had never made any effort to hide just what it was, and it had only been their luck that he hadn't seen reason to reveal it entirely.

Yet, when Robb turned to look at the quarrelsome lords who ruled the Trident, he saw not fear and disgust but reverence and lowered heads. As if all among them had long accepted the truth, no, welcomed it.

"I don't really need one if I'm being honest." Karl shrugged his hands, "But I do know how humans get about proof and what not so..." He put a hand over his chest, "You were supposed to help Eddard Stark take down Joffrey Lannister but somehow, he died and you live. Jon Arryn was poisoned by your childhood sweetheart and not a few months later, you marry her... It doesn't take a genius to figure out what happened there."

Petyr smiled politely, having collected himself far too quickly for Robb's liking, "A series of unfortunate coincidences, nothing more, I assure you."

"Oh but then why did you try to pay me off when I confronted you?" Karl slowly inched closer and closer to the long table separating him and them, "Oh and, the maidservants aren't background noise. They also remember things."

Robb glanced at Petyr.

There was much he didn't know about being a lord but what he did know was that an innocent man wouldn't be looking for escapes or be lost for words, or sweating like a dog on a hot summer day.

"Is this true?" He raised his voice.

"No! Of course not! How could I even thi-"

By then, Karl had been an arm's length away. He grabbed Petyr by the throat from across the table and tossed him onto the hard earth. The small man slid across the floor, coming to a rest near the middle where the judging gazes of all those gathered fell on him.

Loyalty and honor were fiercely respected among the Northmen, Rivermen as well as the Valemen. And, most of them would choose a protector Karl over a known schemer like Petyr Baelish.

This became evident when even Brynden Tully cast a doubtful gaze, mostly unperturbed by Karl's audacity.

Unlike Robb, most of the lords were veterans of several wars and had seen worse over the course of their lives... he knew that and it became evident when their faces turned to stone at the sight before them.

"C-Catelyn. You know m-" He was shut down by Karl stomping a foot on his hand.

"Wanna tell the truth?"

"W-What truth?"

Karl cocked his head, "I'll respect that." He cast a meaningful glance at Roose Bolton for some reason only he knew before crouching down next to Petyr. Then, he took the small man's hand in his hand, interlocking fingers with a grin.

"Let this be a lesson to... well, you know who you are."

Robb narrowed his eyes. He didn't know what Karl meant but... He ignored the questions in his heart and took his mother's hand.

"Robb... please. Stop him."

Littlefinger and Catelyn Stark had grown up together at Riverrun, it stood to reason that she couldn't see him be berated in this way but, one look at the Vale Lords revealed that they too seemed to believe that Petyr Baelish was a traitor.

And Robb himself found it difficult to believe otherwise as well. Karl had done much for them, and asked no reward. But aside from that, everything fell into place a little too well when it came to Petyr's benefit now that he thought about it.

"Did you have a hand in my father's death?" Robb questioned calmly.

"I did not! P...Please! Someone stop this mad-"

A chill wind crept across the room as Petyr's hand turned paler and paler until the skin cracked, and frosted flesh underneath came into view. The Lord Regent of the Vale cried for help but it was futile. None raised their voice to aid him, no, they didn't even seem interested in not seeing him suffer.

"You've had your fun." Karl smiled neutrally, as he mostly did, "The truth now."

"It was only fo-"

Karl knocked him unconscious with a blow to the head and stood up dusting his hands, "And there we go. Yohn, my boy, I think I don't need to tell you to keep this between yourselves till you can grab Lysa."

"A wise thought." Yohn Royce nodded slowly, an unintelligible frown on his aged face.

Lysa Arryn was Catelyn Stark's sister, and the revelation had left her reeling in shock to the point where she was unable to say anything. Robb understood her. If Petyr had lied about this, what was to say he hadn't lied about everything?

The man she thought her dearest friend had killed his father... and her beloved husband.

"Throw this bastard in the dungeons!" Edmure shouted as shock mixed with confusion and then turned to a sad rage.

Once all was done, and Petyr had been dragged away by the men, the council resumed as if nothing had happened. Robb's inexperience became glaring then. The lords quickly started whispering amongst themselves, unperturbed if not curious, while Robb was still reeling from the sudden nature of it all.

They had seen similar, if not more outrageous, happenings in their long lives but for Robb, this had been the first. And if they were shocked, then they were damned good at hiding what they felt.

Karl left quietly from the back door, all laughs and smiles, leaving them to their politicking.

-

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