Lancelot followed Mance Rayder to a very secluded valley.
Here stood the largest weirwood tree Lancelot had ever seen in his life.
Its canopy was as large as a city, and its height was immeasurable. The massive trunk required more than fifty people to encircle it.
The hollow in this tree was enormous, larger than the door of an ordinary farmhouse.
However, the inhabitants here were quite small. They were the Children of the Forest. Indistinguishable by gender, they were generally just over a meter tall. Their skin was dappled like a fawn's, greenish-brown. Most wore clothes made of leaves, while a very few wore animal skins.
Mance Rayder approached the Children of the Forest and spoke in the Old Tongue of the First Men.
"He is the one the Greenseer asked me to save: Lancelot. I have brought him."
A Child of the Forest beckoned Lancelot forward. Although he didn't understand the language, he approached them.
"The Greenseer is waiting for you. Please follow us," one Child of the Forest said in the Common Tongue. She led the way into the tree hollow, and Lancelot followed.
The hollow was very dark. Lancelot wanted to conjure a flame for light. Just as his left thumb and index finger were about to rub together, he heard a sharp voice from the Child of the Forest behind him.
"Do not light a fire."
Lancelot turned back to see the Child of the Forest, who seemed to have a flower atop her head, looking at him sternly.
"If you burn down this weirwood, the consequences will be severe."
Coming from such a diminutive creature, the stern warning struck Lancelot as oddly cute.
"Alright, I won't light a fire! Although it's dim here, it's not completely pitch black."
Lancelot followed them for an unknown amount of time, eventually entering a section of the hollow filled with roots.
The roots here were intertwined but naturally formed an arched passageway that allowed passage.
The Child of the Forest ahead stopped. Lancelot saw an old man dressed in black robes with white hair. He didn't know how old the man was, but Lancelot remembered him as Brynden Rivers.
Also known as Lord Bloodraven, the 995th Lord Commander of the Night's Watch.
"Lancelot, I am very pleased to meet you!" A faint smile appeared on his face, which was so pale it seemed devoid of blood.
"Seeing you in person is a great honor for me as well, my Lord," Lancelot replied.
"It seems you know my identity, but perhaps you are still confused about my purpose in calling you here?" he continued.
"Correct. I am curious why you called me here," Lancelot asked.
"For the legacy. The legacy of the Greenseer," he said. As he spoke, his violet eyes turned emerald green.
"You know that these eyes can see almost everything. As long as I wish to know, as long as I spend time observing, I can see everything. Including the past and the future."
"The All-Seeing Eye. That could be called a god-like ability," Lancelot remarked.
"Exactly. And only two types of people can inherit this ability: those of House Stark, and those of the Dragonlords."
"House Stark? The Dragonlords? Why?" Lancelot asked.
"The blood flowing in their veins is more suitable for this divine office," Brynden Rivers explained.
"Divine office?" Lancelot asked again.
"Yes, it is a divine office! But it will not affect your other work. It will only provide you with convenience."
"Why choose me?" Lancelot asked.
"Didn't you choose Brandon Stark before?"
"Correct. Brandon Stark is of House Stark, flowing with the blood of the direwolf. But you, Lancelot Lannister, have not only the blood of the lion but also the blood of the dragon flowing within you."
"Perhaps you have already sensed it. Your mother was Aerys's bastard daughter. The bloodline of the Dragonlords has also been passed down to you." (Note: In canon, Lancelot is fanfiction OC, usually son of Jaime/Cersei or similar. This text implies his mother was a bastard of Aerys, making him a secret Targaryen/Blackfyre descendant, or perhaps referring to a fanon theory about Tyrion/Jaime/Cersei being Aerys's children, but here specifically Lancelot's mother is cited as Aerys's bastard.)
"Of course, I will not force you. Inheriting this power has other drawbacks. For instance, the Night King will desperately seek you out. If he kills you, he will steal your ability."
"Imagine what the world would become if the Night King possessed the power of the Greenseer."
Lancelot dared not imagine such a world.
"So, make your choice. Are you willing to become my successor? The process will take some time," Brynden Rivers asked.
Lancelot considered carefully. He currently couldn't contact the people at Castle Black, and walking alone through the lands beyond the Wall was fraught with danger.
He had no other choice.
"I am willing."
"Good. Then without further delay, let us begin! The inheritance ritual cannot be interrupted halfway."
After Brynden Rivers finished speaking, the nearby tree roots suddenly became like vines, soft and long, binding Lancelot just as the old man was bound.
Lancelot chose not to resist. Instead, he relaxed his body and mind as he was wrapped up like a swaddled infant.
At Castle Black, the Night's Watch began to pressure Ser Kevan to hand over command.
They surrounded Ser Kevan's room, preventing him from leaving.
"Ser Kevan, this is the foot of the Wall. The ones who know this place best are us, the Night's Watch. You can help, but the commander-in-chief must be one of ours. Lord Commander Mormont is highly respected; he is the most suitable person to serve as the frontline commander-in-chief," said Officer Wick Wittlestick (or perhaps a generic officer named 'Wedge Wood').
He had always been a hardliner within the Night's Watch, once even claiming that the Watch only needed to send a hundred rangers to beat a hundred thousand wildlings senseless.
Ser Kevan looked out the window at the dozens of Night's Watchmen outside. He knew that if he didn't compromise, they might rush in and hack him to death.
Just as he intended to open the door to say a few words.
Several cavalrymen charged through the main gate. They were clad in heavy armor, with only their sharp eyes visible.
"The Flying Bear Army!" someone shouted.
"General Lü Bu invites Ser Kevan to dine at the knights' mess hall. Please make way," a Flying Bear rider said.
His fierce aura intimidated the Night's Watchmen.
Creak. The door opened. Escorted by several Lannister soldiers, Ser Kevan arrived at the knights' mess hall.
Lü Bu and the others were there, eating meat in large chunks and drinking wine from large bowls, enjoying themselves immensely.
"Ser Kevan, apologies for starting without you! Please, sit!" Lü Bu said.
"General Lü Bu, what is this about?" Kevan looked at the group, who seemed to be in good spirits.
"Just now, Lady Melisandre saw Lord Lancelot in the flames. He is safe," Lü Bu said.
"Lord (Zhu Gong)... what a peculiar title. This term is similar to 'Lord' or 'Duke'. Why do you call Lancelot that? And your appearance... you don't seem to be from Westeros. Are you from the East?"
"Correct. We come from the mysterious East," Lü Bu replied.