Game of Thrones: I Created the Weave

"News from Winterfell. Your eight kinsmen safely crossed The Wall. Lady Catelyn specifically sent a troop of cavalry to escort them south. If all goes well, we should see them before the end of the month."

Leaf couldn't help but smile upon hearing this.

Adding these eight kinsmen, there were now eleven Singers who had come south. No matter how bad the situation in the North became after this, at least they could preserve the last spark for the tribe.

This was the limit of what was possible.

"This is all thanks to you. If the leaders of men back then had been as broad-minded as you, I believe Westeros would be even better now," Leaf said, reflecting on distant memories.

Joffrey smiled but didn't speak.

If the Children of the Forest tribes were scattered across the entire continent, how could humans not view them as the biggest threat? Even the most prestigious leader could only go with the general trend.

Sansa's voice was always gentle, polite, and sincere, "Miss Leaf, with your wisdom and the protection of the Throne, the Children of the Forest will surely flourish as before."

Leaf rubbed her little hands, "I'll take your good wishes."

Joffrey added, "The letter from the North also mentioned the movements beyond The Wall. Mance Rayder, who calls himself the 'King-Beyond-the-Wall,' has gathered tens of thousands of Wildlings. To escape the cold and the Others further north, they could assault The Wall at any time."

Sansa, Bran, and Arya immediately widened their eyes. They had never heard of such a thing before.

Joffrey wanted everyone present to hear it.

"After much thought, instead of having the men of the North travel all the way south to fight, it would be better for them to go north, reinforce The Wall, and protect the home of humanity."

"After all, the Others beyond The Wall are the enemies of all life. We absolutely cannot let them cross The Wall by even a step."

Leaf couldn't help but worry about her kinsmen. She could imagine that the Haunted Forest was becoming increasingly dangerous. In a few more days, could the magic outside the cave still stop the claws of The Great Other?

"Leaf." Joffrey looked at her large eyes, a blend of gold and green, "Your responsibility is great. The Greenseers and dozens of Singers beyond The Wall are our closest and most dangerous Eyes to the Wildlings and the Others. How do we contact and protect them?"

Leaf waited for the answer.

"Leaf, you must become the new Greenseer."

Leaf's eyes drooped in disappointment. This answer was difficult to achieve.

Greenseers were the wisest elders in the tribe. They were extremely rare even when the tribe was prosperous, let alone now.

Joffrey was not being whimsical.

With the power of the Bloodline Rune, Joffrey had already integrated the Recollection Rune into Leaf's bloodline. Now, her talent in this area was definitely no less than Bran's.

If Bran in the original story could succeed, Leaf should be even less likely to fail. It was time to give Bloodraven a surprise.

Leaf, however, was completely unaware of the potential within her.

Joffrey patiently guided her, "Think about your kinsmen. They are facing the cold and monsters. Without a doubt, they need more help, the help of a Greenseer."

A Greenseer. Leaf thought of the old man on the Weirwood Throne, and the previous Greenseer of her own kind.

If she had that kind of power, she could definitely help more of her kinsmen.

The young King was full of confidence, "Leave everything to me. By this time tomorrow, you will be the new Greenseer."

Leaf could no longer refuse.

...

Now, a day later, there were quite a few more guests in the Godswood.

Qyburn from the Research Institute and two assistants were meticulously examining the newly transplanted Weirwood.

Bran and Arya were quietly sitting to the side, holding their Little Wolves, waiting for the exciting moment that would come soon.

Leaf patiently comforted two of her kinsmen who had only just learned a few words of human language.

Joffrey, meanwhile, was having a friendly conversation with Lord Eddard.

"Your Majesty, are you truly going to move all the forces of the North to The Wall?" If not for Sansa and Bran's strong assurances, Eddard would have thought this was just a rumor.

Joffrey chuckled, "That's right."

Even Eddard's attitude towards sending troops south was so cold. There was even less hope for the other Lords of the North.

Might as well let these people and the Others wear each other down first.

"If Lord Eddard is willing, you can return to your homeland and command the army in the name of the Warden of the North to resist the threat beyond The Wall."

Duke Tywin had already returned to Lannisport to command the army. The vast majority of the real power in King's Landing was in the hands of the Throne and its loyal servants. Eddard's role as a "regent minister" in maintaining political balance was already negligible.

Joffrey's face was full of sincerity, "Please speak freely."

Eddard looked deeply at the young King. Who in the Red Keep, which word, was to be believed? Eddard couldn't tell. He could only choose to follow his honor.

"Your Majesty. House Stark will always be loyal to the Iron Throne. Any position is to serve the country."

"Lord Eddard has learned to speak nicely too."

Joffrey turned to ask Sansa beside him.

"Sansa, please think carefully for your father. What is Lord Eddard's true wish? To stay in the Red Keep? To fight Renly? To return to the North?"

Eddard silently watched his eldest daughter. Suddenly, he himself didn't know what answer he wanted to hear from his daughter's mouth.

Sansa's lips parted and closed, constantly seeking encouragement from her fiancé's eyes, "...Perhaps, Father misses Winterfell more?"

Joffrey looked at Lord Eddard, seeing his unwavering eyes, like solid ice. "It seems that is the correct answer. Lord Eddard, do you agree?"

Eddard's emotions were unperturbed as he directly handed over the hand-shaped badge symbolizing the position of Hand of the King. "I am willing to guard the North for Your Majesty."

Joffrey took the badge and let out a long sigh. "The Night's Watch, the Wildlings, and the Children of the Forest have all discovered the Others. There's no longer any doubt, they have awakened and will soon turn their gaze south!"

"Winter is coming."

Eddard nodded solemnly.

Joffrey pointed south. "This war in the south is just a small interlude. The Gods have bestowed their will; humanity's true disaster is in the North, beyond the Wall. Your responsibility is great."

The Gods. Eddard slightly lowered his gaze.

He wasn't fanatical about the so-called Divine Grace. Aside from a few powers of fire and healing, most Divine Grace looked more like shackles than blessings.

Immediately after, the familiar hand-shaped badge reappeared before his eyes, and Eddard couldn't help but look at the King's face.

The young King revealed a gentle smile. "My Lord Hand. Father traveled such a long distance to deliver this into your hands, how could I take it back?"

"I hope this badge can be of some help to the great mission you bear."

The badge in his palm was heavy and hard, and Eddard couldn't help but feel lost. Could it really be because the North is in danger that I'm being sent back? No other reason?

Joffrey knew a little about Eddard's thoughts.

This man from the North stubbornly adhered to his own rules and had no fondness for the politicians of the south, which likely included himself, this aggressive and willful King.

While their relationship was still above freezing point, it was better to let this proud Direwolf return to the North.

Qyburn quietly leaned closer.

"Your Majesty, the Weirwood is in good condition, we can begin."

Joffrey took the wooden bowl from Qyburn's hand.

He was very curious.

Why could Weirwoods separated by thousands of miles all become the eyes of the Greenseers? Did this hide the secrets of the Old Gods?

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