Brynden Rivers Interlude:
Brynden watched as Jon Snow and the girl returned to their camp carrying his sword. To be honest, he had forgotten he even had that thing. It had come in handy a few decades ago when one of the White Walkers had tried to attack the nearby village.
Normally, he would not have cared. Too much time connected to the trees had reduced his ability to empathize with his fellow humans. Humans, Walkers, Giants, Singers, it mattered little. They killed each other whenever they could and it was not his obligation to kill one to protect another.
But the village nearby provided them with goods he would not have otherwise. It was thus an ironical twist of fate that Munda, a girl descended from that village, was the one to guide Jon Snow to him.
Fate had not been his friend of late.
Unlike what he had told the boy, it had not been easy for him to give up on his life. Could anyone really? Especially with all the power he had? True, he had shaken his head at his kin falling prey to self fulfilling prophecies. But when it was his turn, he could not help but struggle against the quicksand.
Ever since he had seen that prophecy three decades ago, he had tried many things to avoid his death. He had searched far and wide to find Cannibal. Knowing that he was in no health to ride a dragon, he had looked for his bastard son Craster. The man had just been driven out of his own home by several of his sons.
He had offered to lend him his strength in their little domestic conflict, if he gave over any future sons to him. The man was only too eager to comply. He had had those babes raised by Children here, nursed on weirwood sap as much as auroch's milk.
By the time the boys were old enough to learn dragon lore from him, he had located the dragon on Skagos. A difficult task as he could not see the beast, for his magic failed him the closer his eyes got to it. He had only succeeded because of the vacuum it created in his sight.
By the time the babes were old enough to ride a dragon, he had discovered the passages that could take them from his weirwood to the one on Skagos.
One by one his grandsons had gone forth to Skagos, but none had returned. He had borne the loss of effort stoically, but the Children who had raised them were much less composed. Fortunately, by that time he had given them children of their own and they had become more dependent, perhaps even loyal to him.
The hybrids had proved useful in their own ways. Atla had inherited his human intelligence, and had become a decent physician once he had taught her how to better apply the knowledge of the Children with the mindset of a Maester. Loaf had surpassed him as a skinchanger, and he had made her in charge of Craster's after the man had made a mess again when his wives had rebelled and he had to step in.
This time he had approached the women instead and offered them safety from both Craster and the world at large.
Over the years he had learnt what to look for in a prospective dragonrider. So he had offered to only take in the boys for a few years of fostering so he could identify the more promising ones and then returning the others for their mothers to raise.
Once he had learned that the man in his visions was Jon Snow and that he was making a beeline for him, he had considered many options. From having him trampled under an auroch to having Loaf skinchange Craster and have his wives poison them.
But over the decades, after every failure of his kin to tame the dragon, he had become rather morbidly curious. Could this boy succeed where his descendants had failed time and again? And if he could, would it be too bad a death?
Still, it seemed unlikely. By all logic, the boy would fail and die just as the dozen or so boys before him had. Perhaps after Jon Snow's failure he could continue the attempts to have the Cannibal tamed by a more loyal rider.
He would have Loaf expand the breeding camp. Get rid of Craster and mix in some of the First Men tribes instead of trying to keep their Valyrian blood pure. Loaf had enough talent and contempt for humans to not hesitate to do it.
On that note, Loaf entered his cave supporting a limping Naerys, both smiling at each other like he had once seen Breakspear smile at his Dondarrion wife.
Hopefully they'd grow out of this phase and go on to produce children. Loaf, especially, was one of the last three greenseers in the world, and will one day become the strongest when she surpasses him in her skill in green dreams.
Her very existence had guaranteed him the continued support of most of the Children of the forest still alive.
"Loaf, go and look in on Craster again. It is time for his next son to be summoned here."
Brynden waited for her compliance but was only met with silence.
"What?"
"Raven, I.. I won't be doing that anymore."
"What?!"
The girl flinched back, but Naerys put a supporting hand on her shoulders.
"I want to travel. And meet people in person. Get to know them. Even the lowly humans!"
Naerys beamed at her sister in pride, and Loaf leaned into her touch.
"And I want to do it with Naerys." The normally stoic girl was blushing more than she had as she cavorted naked before all of them.
The two turned to leave, ignoring him entirely.
"I see." He spoke for a lack of anything else to say.
Loaf had always just done what she had been told, and he had rewarded her with training. But apart from that he had no leverage over her, for he had never needed one. So he couldn't really force her into doing anything.
What the fuck was going on?