ASOIAF: Lord of Nature

Note: A bit of info dump in this chapter, but this is necessary, as it shows Erlends motivations, reasoning, and goals. Bonus magic scene at the end for those that stick to it, instead of skipping it.

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During the reign of the Yellow Dynasty, House Mudd would find itself besieged by all sides, it is said that not a day would pass where an assassin would not try to take the life of a Mudd. From the east, yellow sycophants and loyalists would attempt to end the remaining descendants of the Maroon Dynasty, hoping to gain favor with the reigning children of heaven. 

From the west, the Valyrians sought to use the supposed magical bloodline to power their blood rituals, and further west the Andal and andalized houses such as the Justmans and Teagues sought to force marriage upon House Mudd, intent on legitimizing their control over the Riverlands, with the Durrandons being the most persistent of these western families.

Death came easily for the Mudds, yet they persisted against all odds and woe is the fool that would write them off…

Excerpt from 'A Tale of Mudd and Steel' by Maester Alyn Feld

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(Erlend Mudd, Harrenhal)

It's been a few weeks since his night with the Sisters, he hadn't left immediately, instead spending time solidifying their relationship and building it up. 

Neither of the two objected to sharing him, this was caused by two things one was Catelyn's newfound kink and the second was his Aura. Erlend had discovered that while having intercourse with the two sisters, he had instinctively encompassed them with his aura. 

The effects while not immediate were quite drastic, unlike with animals where they would gain instant loyalty towards him. In humans, they simply amplified and permanently strengthened already existing positive emotions towards him. This left them more agreeable to his wishes and desires. 

That does not mean he had full control over them, as they still retained their independent thoughts, personalities, and attitudes. An example of this would be Catelyn's objections to some of his plans, where she advised him of their feasibility and cautioned him of potential consequences that could curtail his ambitions. 

Simply put they could still tell him if he was acting like an idiot and keep him level-headed, something Erlend appreciated since at the end of the day he was still human and could make mistakes.

He had every intention of taking Catelyn as his wife, as he couldn't afford a succession crisis occurring in the future between his children and Catelyn's descendants, especially in the heartlands of his future empire.

That simply couldn't be allowed, hence why he agreed to wed Catelyn, as for Lysa, the woman was completely devoted to him and thus agreed to anything he wanted. Canon Baelish had lucked out with her, it's a shame he allowed her to waste away both in looks and sanity. 

Erlend refused to make the same mistake.

As a reward for her devotion, Erlend informed them both that his and Catelyn's son would inherit his primary title and the Riverlands. 

Any natural-born son between him and Lysa would inherit the Vale, left unsaid was that he would take steps to ensure said child would remain loyal to his brother. For through that child would sprout the Velaryon to his Targaryen.

Speaking of Targaryens, he had no intention of marrying Rhaella or the two younger dragons. For Rhaella, it had more to do with the fact that House Targaryen had largely destroyed whatever goodwill they still held from the time of Daeron II and Aegon V, making any semi-restoration nearly impossible. 

The burning of Kings Landing had been the straw to break the camel's back on an already withering Dynasty.

Marrying Rhaella would stain his house with their actions, something he'd rather avoid. Keeping them hostages, prevented the appearance of a proper figurehead for his would-be enemies to rally behind, whilst sparing them showed that his reign wouldn't be overshadowed by the slaughter of his predecessors.

Like Tywin he wanted to build a legacy that would last several millennia. Yet unlike Tywin he wasn't foolish enough to make enemies with every House, leaving his descendants surrounded by snakes and vipers who wouldn't hesitate to tear through them at the slightest hint of weakness.

…

Something often left forgotten in Harrenhal and often overshadowed by its cursed history was that it had a godswood.

A walled area, covering over twenty acres, and had a small stream that ran through it. The godswood boasted various types of trees such as oak and pine.

The heart tree, a weirwood, was a wretched sight that held a visage of hatred and twisted malevolence, its eyes flaring. It felt almost human-like in the way it expressed itself.

This heart tree was the nexus by which the souls of those who died both during its construction and its burning were concentrated. The concentrated aura that these souls released effectively guaranteed that any who inhabited this Castle would eventually meet a tragic fate. 

As they died, their souls would be sucked into the nexus, and the cycle would repeat itself.

The question perhaps, is why do these souls have so much power over the living world?

The answer was simple, magic.

During the forty years of construction of the castle that has come to be known as Harrenhal, thousands of Riverland captives died. Be it in the quarries where they mined the stones that made up the castle, by freezing in winter, or due to the sweltering heat during the summer as they built the castle.

Those were just the known deaths, as Harren beggared the Riverlands to build his castle, indirectly leaving hundreds of thousands more to die of starvation, unable to provide for themselves and their families. 

It didn't help that the Ironborn constantly raided and pillaged the lands they were supposed to rule.

Adding insult to injury, the Weirwoods that had stood proudly for nearly three millennia were cut down to provide rafters and beams.

All that resentment naturally began to pile up, the souls of the dead and the living both crying out in anguish and hatred against those who caused their suffering.

Magic in its purest form is a supernatural force that influences events. It's already known that humans in Planetos are fully capable of using magic and combine that with the final factor to this all, that being dragons. 

Dragons were and still are creatures of magic, their fire suspected to have been used as the key ingredient in forging valyrian steel, infusing it with its infamous magical properties.

These were the several factors that contributed to the curse. The souls of the dead that give magic its purpose, their resentment and hatred; a medium by which magic can be conveyed, and finally dragon fire which solidified the intent and gave it form.

So, why did Erlend care so much about Harrenhal and its curse? Simple really because he intended to make it his seat.

Now some naysayers would think that was a hell of a stupid idea and they would be correct, but those lot don't have his brand of magic, so their opinion was irrelevant.

While the ability of 'Lord of Nature' would undoubtedly be useful in enriching the land, his adaptability made him immune to the curse thanks to the consistent struggle his soul and body had to endure as he went through various rituals to improve himself.

His Banners and kin, unfortunately, did not have such protections, hence why he had to remove this stupid curse before it took any more lives.

House Mudd, truth be told, had only truly begun exploring magic out of necessity, a necessity that was more pronounced during their second Exile. Similar to the Starks, Gardeners, Hightowers, and Daynes their blood held significant magical properties, giving them an innate advantage in the mystical arts.

They were a house of warriors and generals, not sorcerers, hence why during the initial years of the second exile, they were nearly wiped out by the valyrian sorcerers who sought to use their potent blood for their rituals. 

At the time their magic was merely used to strengthen their weapons and carve runes into their armor for better protection. An almost generic application for those who prefer the blade to the arcane.

Was it foolish of them not to properly utilize their magic, probably? But first men tended to be the most stubborn fools, and the Mudds, unfortunately, had that trait in droves.

Eventually, the Mudds realized how important it would be to look for ways to counter the Valyrians and hence they began delving more deeply into their magic. After countless trials and errors, they recognized their affinity towards runes and rituals.

The rituals Erlend had used during his 13th name day was one such ritual. The rituals were powered by the blood of the Mudds and the sacrifices offered were then solidified by the runes engraved into them. 

There was power in blood as the red priests liked to say, and the Mudds had some of the most potent blood around, as through their veins was the blood of kings and more importantly the maroon emperors.

It boggled Erlend's mind on how lucky or unlucky his family was. Every time they were so close to success, there was always something or someone ready to bring them down.

Anyways back to the ritual.

This particular ritual that Erlend intended to use, was one created by his ancestors, who at the time were the last Mudds alive, facing pursuit from both the Valyrians and the yellow emperor's assassins. 

His ancestors had no choice but to escape into uncharted lands, devoid and uninhabited by life. A ritual was created deep within it to stave off the cursed souls that lived there, leaving only when they were confident that their pursuers perished.

Granted, by the end of it his ancestors were starved and delusional, as their supplies had run out and they were surviving on weeds and hallucinogens.

Over time, the ritual would be reused and refined by his family, to a point where it became the go-to ritual to stave off curses and cleanse both the ritualist and the area around it.

A necessity when you had a majority of the sorcerers of the world after you. Sure there were bloodlines like the Daynes and Starks around, but the Mudds made a far easier target than their Westerosi counterparts.

Like with the ritual used to enhance his body, the ritual circle would be formed using crushed dragon bone; this was necessary due to the dragon's pivotal role in the formation of the curse.

---

The runes that would be carved into the ritual circle were as follows:

- Cleanse; washes away the hatred and malevolence of the souls within the nexus.

- Death; guides those who linger to pass onto the afterlife.

- Purity; purifies the land from harmful intent and revives the land.

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These three runes would wash away the nexus that powers the curse, guide the spirits to the afterlife so that they can no longer affect the living, and finally purify the land so that the cycle does not repeat itself.

As a further precaution, Erlend intends to tear down Harrenhal. Guaranteeing that the curse would not find some way to return during his descendant's reign. It was after all a symbol of Targaryen's capabilities and hatred for Riverlanders. Magic was a very fickle primal force and he dared not risk another curse forming.

The lands that owed allegiance to Harrenhal would be transferred to the new seat he intended to create. The lands are far too rich and vital both strategically and economically to be given away to anyone else.

Finally came the most important bit, Hoare blood needed to be sacrificed. Tharen Orkwood would be the lucky pig, as while House Hoare was considered extinct, just like House Greyiron, their blood still flowed through the noble houses that ruled the Iron Islands.

The greatest concentration of that being in House Orkwood and Tawney, who due to their proximity to the seat of the Hoares, tended to intermarry the most. Thus, they carried the greatest amount of Hoare blood in them.

The reaver had been caught by a patrol attempting to raid one of the coastal villages near Seagard, it seemed that with Quellon and his children squabbling amongst themselves many enterprising young reavers decided to pay the iron price.

Erlend couldn't care less, he came at the perfect time and he fully intended to make use of this fool.

The method by which he would initiate the ritual was simple. He would cut the throat of the reaver on the ritual circle, the reaver would then be engulfed by the ground itself, burying the dying man into the earth.

This would achieve two core things. The blood of the Hoares would satiate the dead's need for vengeance, and the burial would satisfy any lingering hatred as burying an ironborn is considered the biggest insult one could make to their culture and way of life.

Preventing them from joining their drowned god in his halls within the deep oceans. 

Symbolism was a core part of rituals and could make or break it, every component mattered, and the way it was carried out would affect its success.

…

A fire crackled in the background.

The godswood felt empty and silent, devoid of life save for the unconscious reaver who lay bound.

The air in the godswood felt solemn, the twisted weirwood tree gave off a feeling of anticipation that would have filled any observer with dread.

Soft footsteps could be heard as a lightly clothed Erlend moved to stand before the weirwood.

The ritual circle had been prepared for this moment, as the moon reached its climax.

Erlend grabbed the reaver by his hair, a dagger head to his knock as he awaited for the moonlight.

Only when the moonlight hit him did he slit the reaver's throat, his blood flowing into the ritual circle.

The circle absorbed the blood given, lighting up as the ritual began its cleansing.

"Spirits, Souls, and Forbearers, I grant you the blood of your ancient enemy, of black blood, of the black line. Let this fulfill your vengeance. Let it usher you to rest." Erlend intoned.

The roots of the heart tree began to encircle the bound reaver, who struggled in pain and terror with all his might, all the while blood seeped from his throat and Harren's bloodline found itself being dragged into the embrace of the earth it so deeply abhorred.

The ritual begins its cleansing as soon as the reaver disappears into the ground, the air within the godswood seems to come alive as balls of light begin to swarm the heart tree, surrounding and encircling Erlend. 

Whispers and murmurs could be heard, soft as they were.

"Blood of Hammer…"

"Blood of Scales…"

"True Blood…"

"King's Blood…"

"Conqueror…"

"Tyrant…"

"Monster…"

"Restorer…"

"Breaker…"

"Sovereign…"

The more words Erlend heard, the clearer each ball became. Features appeared, yet they continued to change as if trying to convey the faces of each soul within the nexus.

There was no fear on his face, as he calmly watched each corporeal face seemingly judge him, some positively, others harshly. 

It mattered little to him, for the opinion of the dead held no weight, or so he thought.

As the moon reached its peak, the light of the dead began to disperse as they were ushered to their final rest. One final soul floated in front of him.

The soul's features were far more prominent and easily distinguishable from the rest. Looking decidedly regal, tufts of gray could be seen, his eyes held both wisdom and sorrow in equal measure.

Old, wise, and broken. That was what came to mind, when Erlend stared at the soul, a crown of iron laid visible on his visage.

As the two monarchs stared at each other, silence permeated the godswood, with the gusting winds finally coming to a halt.

The silence broke as the withered sovereign opened its lips "Harbinger of Change…"

Nodding its head towards him respectfully, the last soul allowed itself to be dispersed. Bringing the curse to an end.