Richard
I did not know how long I remained in the darkness. I could no longer feel the stones beneath me or taste the blood in my mouth. There was no pain, but I could not move or draw breath, and at first I thought the Stranger had claimed me.
Then I remembered dying in a room I had never seen.
Strange memories followed before I could make sense of it. Towers of glass rose above streets crowded with metal carriages, and lights burned without fire. I saw men walking upon the moon and others falling when weapons no larger than crossbows cracked in someone's hands.
The memories belonged to John Falcon, a man who had died alone, regretting a life he believed he had wasted. After his death, a being of white light offered him another life and allowed him to choose a gift. John chose something called the Wolverine template, which the being promised could evolve beyond its original abilities.
He expected to awaken in my body with strength, metal claws, and the power to heal almost any wound.
He had not expected to find me still inside it.
"That body was promised to me. How are you still here? You were meant to be dead. There should have been nothing left of you." John's voice rose in panic, and more of his memories crowded out my own.
For a moment, I could remember the room where he died more clearly than the alley where I had fallen.
I tried to picture the shelter me and an Alicent built, but saw his bed instead.
"My body and soul are mine, you will not take them from me." I fought to remember the boards, the torn sailcloth, and Alicent beside the fire.
I remembered her finding me at the orphanage kitchen window. Instead of calling for someone, she took my hand and climbed out with me. We had spent four years sharing stolen bread and sleeping beneath wet blankets, while she patched my shirt until hardly any of the old cloth remained.
Then I remembered our nameday stew, the larger bowl I placed in her hands, and how pleased she looked when I told her she had spent our coppers well. I had promised her the finest lemon cake in Lannisport.
John forced another memory over hers. The fire disappeared, and for a moment I could not recall the sound of her laugh.
"You have already died once. Let go, I will make better use of your life than you ever could." John raised his voice as he pressed visions of wealth and power upon me.
"You know nothing of my life, you never faced such hardships." I held to the feel of Alicent's hand in mine and tried to picture her face again.
I could remember her eyes, then the soot upon her cheek. Somewhere beyond John's voice, I heard her calling.
"Please, Richard, wake up… I cannot live without you… Please." Alicent's plea was faint, but I recognized every word.
I tried to answer.
John drove more memories against mine, and her voice faded beneath them.
"She will live without you. Once I have your body, I will protect her." He spoke hurriedly as I fought to hear her again.
His memories betrayed him.
He had already begun thinking of her as something he would gain along with my body.
"You will never touch her. I have seen the filth in your memories, and I will not let you bring it near her." I clung to the sound of Alicent calling my name and pushed back.
John wanted another life. I wanted to get back to Alicent, and when he tried to bury her voice again, I held on. His memories no longer swept mine away. I could recall our shelter without seeing his room, and her face remained clear.
He tried to force his way past me once more. I caught at the memories he thrust upon me and pulled, tearing them apart until his voice broke. The harder he struggled, the more I took from him. At last he stopped resisting, and I could hear Alicent without him speaking over her.
John Falcon's consciousness disappeared. His memories remained, but I could distinguish them from my own, even with so many crowding together.
Through them, I learned that his world knew mine through books called A Song of Ice and Fire and moving images called Game of Thrones. King Aerys, Lord Tywin, and Prince Rhaegar appeared in events that had not yet happened. The books and moving images disagreed often enough that I could not know which, if either, my world would follow.
Other memories showed me the gift John had chosen. A short, powerful man bore three metal claws in each hand. Blades and bullets tore through him, yet his wounds closed. His senses and strength surpassed those of ordinary men, and a nearly unbreakable metal called adamantium coated his skeleton.
The being had bound that gift to John's soul. When I destroyed him, it passed to me with his memories, though I had no idea how to use it yet.
Alicent called again.
I reached toward her voice until I felt her hands upon me.
Cold stone pressed against my back, and an arm supported my shoulders as I came awake choking. Air filled my lungs, bringing pain through my skull, ribs, and broken arm.
My forearm straightened. Ribs shifted into place, and a new tooth pushed through my bloody gum. Pressure built at the back of my head as shattered bone joined and flesh closed over it.
I opened my eyes to find Alicent bent over me. Blood stained her dress and the black hair stuck to her cheeks. She stared as I drew another breath, then pulled me against her.
"Richard… Thank you… Thank you for being alive." She sobbed against my neck and tightened both arms around me.
"I am here, Alicent. I am alive now, and I swear I will never let this happen again. Please do not weep." I held her as closely as I could while she shook.
"You were dead, Richard." Her voice broke as she gripped my shoulders.
"I know." I swallowed at the memory of the iron bar and rubbed her back.
"Your skin was cold, and you were not breathing. I held you for hours, but you would not wake. I did not know where to go, and I could not leave you." She said hysterically as she pulled away to touch my face, her bloody fingers trembling against my cheek.
"I came back to you… Please don't cry." I covered her hand with mine so she could feel its warmth.
"How are you alive? I saw what they did to the back of your head, Richard, but now there is nothing." Her fingers searched through my hair for the wound.
Night had fallen, yet I could see the far end of the alley beneath the thin moon. I heard rats beneath the boards, dripping water several streets away, and Alicent's heartbeat. The blood on her dress smelled different from Rodric's blood upon the stones, and I could pick out the spilled stew beneath the stench of refuse.
"I do not understand it yet either. But when I do, I swear I will tell you." I looked away from her searching eyes, ashamed of how little I was willing to say.
I knew where the gift had come from, but John's memories were all I knew of what it could do. I had not learned its limits, or whether I could control it. How could I tell her that a stranger had tried to take my body while she held it? I wanted time to sort through what remained of him before I frightened her with more.
"All right… I will wait until you understand, and I will not cry anymore." Alicent wiped her cheeks and tried to steady her breathing.
She began to cry again almost at once. I held her until she quieted, listening to her heartbeat while her tears soaked my shoulder.
When she loosened her arms, I stood without pain. One boot was missing, and my torn sleeve hung away from an arm that had been broken. Alicent caught my wrist and turned it over.
"There is no wound on you, not even a scar." She ran a finger over the unmarked skin in disbelief.
"Whatever brought me back mended every wound." I squeezed her hand, still expecting pain whenever I moved.
Broken boards covered our blankets, the water bucket lay overturned, and strips of sailcloth hung from what remained of the roof.
Beside the fire, our dented pot rested in spilled stew.
"They ruined the stew I made for us. It was meant for our nameday." Alicent stared at the pot and clenched her fists.
She had spent some of our coppers on the food and worked over the fire to make it. Now pieces of chicken lay in the dirt. I picked up the pot and set it aside before clearing the boards above our hiding place.
Beneath the cracked stone, the leather bag still held several stale loaves, three bruised apples, 58 copper coins, and six silver coins.
"Do not worry, we still have our hidden food and coins." I opened the bag and offered her a loaf.
"You came back to me, Richard. I would sooner have you than any feast." Alicent leaned against my shoulder and accepted it.
We ate the bread beside the dead fire, saving all three apples for morning. When she shivered, I drew our least damaged blanket around her. Our shelter lay in ruins, but we still had food, our savings, and somewhere dry enough to rest until dawn.
Alicent ate only half her bread. She tried to help me clear a place to sleep, but her hands shook, and she nearly nodded off while folding a blanket.
"Lie down and rest, Alicent." I took it from her and led her toward the bundled rags.
"I am not tired." She lifted her chin, then yawned against my shoulder.
"You nearly fell asleep upon your feet just now." I laughed quietly as I helped her lie down.
"I was lost in thought, that is all." Alicent frowned at me, though her eyes were already closing.
"You may continue tomorrow. I swear I shall still be here when you wake." I tucked the blanket beneath her shoulder.
"Stay beside me until I fall asleep." She caught my wrist before I could straighten.
"I am not going anywhere." I lay beside her and let her keep hold of me.
I sang the lullaby I had used since our first year on the streets. Her grip loosened, and her head settled against my chest. I listened to her breathing while keeping watch on both ends of the alley. Footsteps reached me long before their owners passed the entrance, but I could not yet be certain how much warning my new senses would give me.
Once Alicent slept, I eased away and placed another blanket beneath her cheek. She stirred, then settled without waking.
"There is much we must do tomorrow, but you need not fear. Whatever I do, I will do for us." I brushed a strand of hair from her face as I whispered.
My hands looked unchanged apart from the dried blood beneath my nails. John's memories said three blades rested inside each forearm. I crossed to the darkest end of the alley and knelt beside the wall before trying to find them.
I clenched my fists and tried to move them as the man in John's memories had done. Unfamiliar muscles tightened inside my forearms, followed by a scraping pressure that made me bite down on my sleeve.
The skin behind my knuckles split, and three claws tore from each hand. Pain shot through my arms as more than a foot of metal slid into the moonlight. I smothered a cry against the cloth and waited until the blades stopped moving.
Blood ran down my wrists, but the torn skin closed around the metal almost at once. I raised both fists, careful to keep the edges away from my face.
"The claws are real, too," I whispered as I turned my hands in the moonlight.
That morning, I had needed the Watch against Rodric's gang. Now I held six adamantium blades, and the wounds he left upon me were gone. I looked toward the bloodstained stones where I had fallen.
Rodric had killed me once. When we meet again, I would return the favor.