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The Raven's PlanThe_SithspawnChapter 5: Ch5 More AwakeningsChapter Text

Chapter 5 More Awakenings

Samwell Tarly

His eyes opened.

The coldness was gone.

He blinked for a moment taking stock of his new reality. The battlefield and the hateful gaze of the Night's King were gone. Instead, he lay in a soft bed, feeling warm all over, under heavy covers. He rose slowly, his eyes recognizing his old room in Horn Hill.

He moved out of bed, casting the covers aside and walked around his room. He came to mirror and stared at his reflection.

"It worked..." He sighed, "I'm fat again." He stared down at his ample gut. His cheeks were large and round again. All his hard work to shed his old self were back. Weak and cowardly Sam was back.

He shook himself, no I'm still me, he clenched a fist and stared at it, and I was never weak. I just didn't know how to advantage of my weight.

Gilly's alive...he took strength from this thought as he quickly dressed and prepared for his day. I can save her and little Sam. Talla. Mother. Even Dickon...

With renewed energy he finished dressing and walked out of his room, head held high and proud.

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"Lord Tarly..."

His musings, as he walked around Horn Hill mapping out what he was going to do in the coming days came to an end, and Sam turned to the voice. He came face to face with Ser Darvon, the Master-at-arms of Horn Hill. Flashes of that final charge at the Night's King with Ser Darvon at his side came to mind. He cast them away, that Ser Darvon was gone now.

He gave him a sharp curious look, "My father isn't here, Ser Darvon." he stated evenly.

"Did you kill him?" the man asked with a strange look on his face.

He gave him a sharper look, "Kill who?"

Dread filled the old Knight's voice when he answered, "The Night's King."

Surprise blossomed on Sam's face. "No. I failed...again." Sam shook himself, "You remember? You shouldn't remember." It seemed his trusted knight wasn't as gone as he thought.

"Aye, I remember everything," he paused pursing his lips, "I'm not the only one." he added quietly.

That isn't good...Sam thought suddenly very concerned. The plan had been...delicate. Sam's mind started filling with concerns as he tried to imagine all the possibilities of this. What happened after I died?

Ser Darvon stepped closer and whispered, "Enough remember who is the better Lord...say the word and you will be Lord Tarly once more..." he started gravely. "Many of them know and remember what truly is at stake now...what is coming..."

Sam ran through his thoughts,thinking. He didn't consider it long before nodding once, "Consider the word given." he answered just as gravely. Whatever had changed he needed to take the initiative, he needed to be in control of this situation. His father couldn't send him to the Wall this time.

Ser Darvon smiled wolfishly, "Aye. Then I will go and make it so."

Sam nodded again and began mentally steeling himself for his coming usurpation.

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Time passed quickly as Ser Darvon's preparations proceeded. Sam returned to his room and avoided his family as the possibilities of what went wrong with the spell passed though his mind. The implications of so many people remembering did not bode well for the original plan. Especially Daenerys, she would be in a very, very delicate situation in Essos, caught between her brother, the Dothraki and the Slave Masters.

Eventually, word came to Sam and he went to find his father.

It was time to face his face. The implacable Lord Randyll Tarly.

Ser Darvon led him and his men through the halls of Horn Hill. They marched to the training grounds were Dickon was hacking relentlessly at a training dummy as Lord Randyll Tarly watched hawkishly.

As they approached Randyll turned towards him, he appeared to be uncharacteristically jumpy today, his eyes seemed to dart back and forth. Almost manically. Ser Darvon took the men and spread out around them.

A sudden stray thought came to Sam and he blurted out his suspicion, "You remember." It was a shocked statement and not a question.

Randyll tensed and sneered at Sam, "Remember what boy?" there was the barest of quivers in his voice.

Sam returned his father's hard stare with his own, "The Dragon Queen."

The blood drained from Randyll's face and Dickon froze in his hacking at the practice dummy, turning towards them, just as white as Randyll.

They stared at each other, and no one spoke for an eternity.

"Sam!" He heard Talla's voice scream. He turned, breaking from the stand off, with just enough time to catch his little sister as she threw herself at him. She wrapped her arms around his neck and held on for dear life.

"Talla," he whispered, forgetting his father and returning the hug. He lifted her off her feet, he twirled her around once then set her back down on her feet.

They hug ended and they came apart. A smile spread across his face as he looked at Talla now, gone was the woman he'd seen die and back was the little girl he remembered from before he left for the Wall.

She looked at him and then laughed, "Sam, we're alive again...and you're fat again." She reached out to squeeze his chubby cheeks.

He waved her hands away and snorted at the remark, "Rub it in." he replied mock acidly.

She laughed again and then turned to father. The smile faded from her face as she saw the angry look on his face.

Randyll stared between the two of them, his disquiet undiminished, "What is going on?" he paused, "It was just a nightmare." he added almost to himself.

"Talla! Talla, where did you go?" came mother's voice calling for his sister, cut off any answer he would have given his father.

Lady Melessa bustled into the training yard confusion and annoyance on her face, "Tall, why did you run off?" she asked in mystification.

"Mother," Sam said with a smile as he engulfed his mother in a big hug.

Melessa hugged him back and then broke the hug, she gave him an even more confused smile before casting a concerned glance at his father. "Is everything alright?"

"She doesn't remember," Talla quickly added.

Melessa frowned at Talla before looking back at Sam, "Remember what, my dear?"

She doesn't remember? Sam thought in confusion, Why not mother, when father remembers? And Dickon, and Talla and Ser Darvon and the other guards?

Sam frowned, turning to Talla, "But you remember?"

Talla nodded earnestly, "Dickon!" she cried out, seeing her other brother. She leapt at him as she had with Sam, gripping her other brother happily.

Dickon looked a little overwhelmed before returning Talla's enthusiastic affections.

Sam turned back to Randyll, who almost seemed to be becoming even more manic than before, "It happened. It really happened. You stood with Cersei Lannister and Daenerys Targaryen reenacted the Field of Fire with you and Dickon taking the place of the Gardner Kings."

Randyll shook, "It was a nightmare." he denied.

"No...I remember father." added a now pale Dickon.

"How is this possible?" demanded Randyll.

Sam shrugged, "Magic. You can thank Brandon Stark."

Randyll's shock disappeared and was replaced with scorn, "Now I know you are lying boy, the Ironborn killed that Stark."

"No they didn't, he survived," Sam cast a pointed look around him, "He outlived all of us."

"What are you all talking about?" demanded Melessa, looking in consternation between her husband and eldest son.

Randyll cast a glance at Ser Darvon and the men now surrounding them, suddenly registering them and their demeanor, "What is happening? Ser Darvon, why are these men here?"

"I am obeying Lord Tarly's orders," Ser Darvon

Randyll's eyes narrowed, "I gave no orders."

Sam braced himself, "I did. As of today, you are no longer Lord Tarly." he stared defiantly as he finished. There's no going back now.

Mother looked at him in fearful dismay.

Randyll turned back to Sam, his face flushed red with rage. "You dare boy!" He stepped menacingly towards Sam, "You weak little boy!" he raged, spittle flying from mouth, staring daggers at his fat son.

Sam returned the stare without flinching, after staring down the Night's King as he was cut down, Randyll Tarly's stare no longer held any power. His mother edged her way between them, she'd always tried to keep the peace between them.

Sam paid her little attention as he retorted, "You threatened me. You promised to kill me if I didn't take the Black." Sam paused defiantly, "But I will not be cowed by you this time."

Randyll sneered angrily at him.

Smack!

The sound of the biddable Lady Melessa Tarly's hand striking Randyll Tarly's face echoed in the training ground.

Randyll gaped at his wife in disbelief. His normally quiet and obedient wife who had just struck him.

"You threatened our son? Our Son! You threatened to kill him!" she trembled with rage, her eyes shining with such anger and scorn that Sam hadn't known she was capable of. "He is our son whether you like it or not!" she screeched at Randyll. To Sam's eyes, the severe expression on her face now, made her look very much like Selyse Baratheon. He'd always wondered how his mother and Selyse could possibly be cousins, but the Florent in mother was shining through now.

Dickon and Talla shared Sam's shocked expression at their mother's unexpected action.

"He is not worthy of my name!" Randyll retorted back rubbing his cheek, more in surprise than pain.

Smack!

Randyll clutched his other cheek.

"Sam is a kind and intelligent soul! That you cannot see him for who he is and not what you want is your failing!" she spat back at him.

Sam stared at his mother as he suddenly realised, she never knew? She never knew about father's threats?

Dickon looked ashamed now, he'd been quiet but spoke up now, "If...if I'd know this, I wouldn't have stood with you at the end."

Randall turned to stare at Dickon in shock. His expression turned to disbelief at Dickon's next words.

"We turned against the Tyrells and I understand why we did it. We broke out oaths to them...but...Kinslaying is something else. It is the greatest of sins." Dickon shook his head gravely. He turned to Sam, "We were never close, and I...was not kind to you, but you are still my brother," Dickon went down to his knees. "I swear to serve you now. As faithfully as a brother should."

Melessa was staring at them now, her angry replaced with confusion and fear at Dickon's words.

Sam was surprised by his brother's words, he nodded seriously at his brother, "I accept your fealty. Now get up, we have a lot work to do." he turned back to face his father. He sneered at him but didn't say anything to him.

"Your orders, Lord Tarly?" asked Ser Darvon, staring defiantly at Randyll.

Sam continued to stare at his defeated father for a long moment before answering, "Ser Darvon, take my father to his rooms and keep him there. Make sure he is comfortable. He will be there for quite sometime..."

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Eddison Tollett

Edd held a grubby cloth to the wound on his forehead as he watched Grenn and the others throw Ser Alliser Thorne and his other conspirators into the ice cells of Castle Black.

It was good to see Grenn again. And Pyp. And so many other lost friends.

It was even better to see Alliser Thorne, bruised and bleeding, behind the bars of a cell.

A commotion came from behind him and Edd turned to see what was happening.

The old bear, 998th Lord Commander of the Night's Watch, Jeor Mormont, came bearing down on them, bloodied sword in hand and some bruising on his face. His eyes flickered between Edd and his men before passing over Alliser Thorne.

"What the fuck are you doing, Tollett?" he demanded gravely.

"Dealing with traitors," he responded quickly. He was happy to see Jeor again. Thank the Gods! Now I don't have to be Lord Commander any more, a part of him thought happily.

Jeor's eyes narrowed and he glared at Alliser angrily before, "More traitors?" he demanded through clenched teeth. "What did you do?" he asked turning to Thorne.

"I did right by my Oath!" spat Thorne.

"You fucking betrayed Jon!" screamed back Edd.

"That fucking bastard betrayed us all!" snarled Alliser is anger. "He let those damned Wildlings though the Wall!"

"He was your Lord Commander and you stabbed him!" Edd sneered back. "That was doing right by your Oath?"

"Enough!" Jeor roared silencing them. He was looking between them anger in his face. He turned to Edd, "Jon Snow was Lord Commander?"

"Aye."

"And he let the Wildlings thorough the Wall? Why?" he asked urgently.

"Better alive and with us then Wights." Edd paused, "We were already outnumbered."

Jeor slowly put away his sword and stared again between the two of them, his eyes were unreadable. He turned to Thorne.

"You stabbed Jon Snow?"

"Aye I did! And a fat lot of good it did me! Lord fucking Snow still executed me!" Thorne spat in disgust.

Anger and disgust appeared on Jeor's face as he turned back to Edd, "We need to talk, my solar. Now!"

Edd nodded, "Of course Lord Commander, we have a lot to talk about and prepare for," He paused and then turned back to Thorne, he smiled savagely, "But first, today is going to be the most fucking painful day of you life!"

Throne snarled, "Bring it on Tollett, you're a weak cunt! I can take anything you do to me!"

Jeor frowned gravely, "Tollett, this isn't the time for this."

Edd's smile widened, "Oh I'm not going to lay a hand on him. I'm just going to tell him a secret."

Jeor frowned in confusion as Thorne's eyes narrowed, an extra grumpy sneer in place.

Edd took a deep breath drawing the moment out, savoring every second of what was coming, "Jon Snow is not a bastard. He's not the bastard son of Eddard Stark. His mother was Lyanna Stark, who was married to his father and his father was Rhaegar fucking Targaryen! Your oh so precious prince!"

The words didn't have an immediate impact. Seconds passed and Alliser seemed confused for a moment. When the full meaning of the words finally sank in...everyone could see the reaction.

Alliser turned white as a ghost and then red...he passed through an array of colours as the defiance in him completely fled. He staggered back from the bars and just stood there, his mouth gaping open, trying to come to grips with this revelation.

"You fucking stabbed your own King." Edd added twisting the metaphorical blade in Alliser's gut and putting into very simple words the former Targaryen loyalist's true actions. The feeling Edd now had was even better than bedding a willing woman!

And he relished every moment of it!

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Stannis Baratheon

He stood in front of the painted table, leaning heavily on it.

Do your duty, he'd said to Brienne of Tarth. There had been a quick pain, then darkness. Then he'd awoken here of all places. Dragonstone. He despised Dragonstone. Was this to be his prison? His own personal hell for killing Renly and Shireen?

The doors of the room burst open and in stamped Ser Davos. Stannis turned to face him, there was dangerous glint in Davos's eye as he came to stand directly in front of Stannis.

"Do you remember?" Davos asked darkly.

My loyal Onion knight...he thought idly, Davos is here...Maybe this isn't hell? Stannis stared at him for a moment, before answering.

"Yes."

Pain blossomed and he felt his head knocked back as Davos's fist met his face. He felt his cheekbone gave way under the blow. He reeled back against the painted table. He steadied himself against it and turned back to face the red faced and furious Davos.

"How could you?!" roared Davos with more anger than Stannis had ever heard from the man. "She was your daughter! She good and kind! And you fucking burned her!"

"A sacrifice was needed," The words sounded hollow and empty even as he said them.

Davos grabbed him and punched him again in response to the words, before starting to shake him, screaming about what was right and what wasn't. Of the duty of a Father. Of madness and Stannis's Targaryen grandmother. Stannis only half listened, feeling the oddly detached from it all.

Still detached, he watched as Master Cressen appeared. Cressen blanched in surprise at the scene, before he started calling urgently for the guards. The guards appeared and dragged Davos off of him. One of the guards punched Davos in the stomach and the old smuggler bent in half at the blow.

"Stop! Release him!" Stannis ordered.

The guards froze in surprise and looked at him.

Stannis grunted and ground his teeth, "I said release him!"

The guards obeyed and stepped away as Maester Cressen placed himself between Stannis and the enraged Davos.

Too many dark thoughts coursed though his mind. He came to a quick decision, "Take Shireen and go. Take what gold and men you need. Keep her safe." Stannis ordered quietly.

Cressen did a double take between them at the words, "Shireen?! My Lord?"

Davos ignored Cressen and scowled as he marched from the room. He stopped at the door and turned back to Stannis, "Gods willing, you will never see her again!"

Maester Cressen stared after the disappearing Ser Davos in complete bafflement, "My Lord, what has happened?"

Stannis turned his attention to the old Maester and frowned, "You don't remember?"

Cressen frowned at him in confusion, "Remember what?"

Stannis grunted remembering Cressen's death, the poison he'd drunk to try to kill Melisandre. He thought of all the years Cressen had served him and House Baratheon faithfully. Faithful even at the end. If he had listened more would things have been different? He cast a glance at the empty doorway. Faithful Ser Davos was gone and he'd take Shireen. It was too late to a better path. But she would be safe from him now.

He turned away ignoring Cressen's question and leaned again, heavily on the painted table.

He stayed like that for a good while, just seemingly frozen in time. He didn't move or react as Cressen continued to question him. Finally, he noticed on the table someone had left a jug of wine and two goblets.

He reacted for it, but didn't take a cup, he took the jug and raised it to his mouth, drinking deeply. The wine burned as it went down his throat. As he swallowed, a numbness spread though him and his body seemed to relax.

Wine worked for Robert...maybe it'll work for me?

"You!" Stannis pointed at a waiting guard, "Bring me more wine!"

The guard gave him a bewildered look and scurried away in bewilderment.

Maester Cressen stared at him in shocked disbelief, but he ignored the old man again.

Stannis raised the jug to his lips and drank deep of the remaining wine.

The numbness spread.

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Selyse Baratheon

This is impossible...I was dead!

She walked through the halls of Dragonstone, fearing for her sanity. She remembered the North, the coldness there, Lady Melisandre's need for a worthy sacrifice. Shireen's screams...and the final painful release of the ropes around her neck.

She shuddered at the memories, and tried to cast it away.

And now she was back in Dragonstone. Dragonstone as it had been before Robert had died and Stannis had sworn himself to the Lord of Light. Baratheon banners hung without the flames motif of the Red God. Had it all been a dream? Some horrific nightmare? She continued moving through the halls. Her feet were moving on their own and before she realised it, she was outside Shireen's rooms.

In a daze, she entered her daughter's room. Inside, Shireen was there, alive and unburnt, younger than she had been, standing in the middle of her room, surrounded by her books and the oddities that she collected.

"Shireen?" Selyse called gently.

Shireen turned and saw her. She froze staring at her mother.

Selyse felt so certain it had all been a dream right up until the moment Shireen started screaming.

Selyse's breath caught in her throat.

Shireen's face contorted into fear and anger. She screamed at her, "Stay away!" and began throwing whatever was near her at Selyse. Books, goblets, anything that came under her hands.

Selyse raised her arms up to protect herself as horror ate away at what was left of her soul. Shireen continued to scream and throw things.

"Princess!" Ser Davos's voice came from behind her.

Selyse felt hands on her as Ser Davos shoved her out the way and sent her sprawling to the floor.

"Ser Davos!" Shireen cried out in relief.

"We're leaving!" Davos said reaching Shireen and gathering her up into his arms.

Selyse watched frozen from the floor as Davos sneered at her as he left with Shireen in his arms. She continued to watch, looking into the hate filled eyes of her daughter as Ser Davos carried her away.

She lay there for a long time, alone in Shireen's now empty room and she realised, it wasn't a dream or nightmare. She'd let Shireen burn. It had happened.

She wept as what was left of her soul shattered...