91Shiro I
Shirou knew not of the truth behind the situation he's found himself in. It was certainly a perplexing ordeal, for as far as he knew it, perhaps he might have been dreaming. Yes, a long overdue dream. Yet, he's been stuck in said dream for 3 years.
He knew that there were mysteries beyond comprehension within the moonlit world, but was reincarnation truly possible? He knew not the full capabilities of magecraft, as he had just come into contact with it for a brief couple of days.
Perhaps he should not be surprised any longer, for he had, for the most part, had shocking truths thrown at him one after the other. Magic- magecraft was real. Legendary heroes of old, from myths and legends, were real. Not to mention a war of seven mages and seven heroes for a wish granting cup. Really, at this point, Shirou really should not be fazed by the amount of shocking events life has thrown at him.
'I really have been reborn, haven't I'
At the very least, he hoped things would be better at Rin's end, it's unfortunate that he met his end when Gilgamesh decided to use his chain shaped noble phantasm to drag Shirou with him to that black hole started by the grail. At the very least, Shirou had some semblance of comfort knowing he died like a hero of old. He died fighting a legendary hero, Gilgamesh, who was supposedly the 'King of Heroes.' With arguably one of the strongest noble phantasms. A noble phantasm that housed a near unlimited number of more noble phantasms…
In hindsight, Shirou was thankful that the Servant underestimated him. In a real fight where the King of Heroes were to use his full strength, even with the mana boost Rin's magic crest gave him, he would have been defeated instantly. After all, even with the Servant playing with him, he barely won- nay, was that even a victory? After all, in the most crucial moment he ran out of mana. He may have cut the arm of the King of Heroes, but if it was not for the grail trying to use the Servant as its backup host, he surely would have been killed by Gilgamesh instead of the grail. Though, in a way, Gilgamesh did technically kill him.
Sighing, Shirou now turned to look at his surroundings. In this new life, he was no longer 'Emiya Shirou,' but now he was Jon Snow. Bastard son of Lord Eddard Stark, Lord of Winterfell and Lord Paramount of the North. His wet nurse sat next to him as she was finishing up sewing him a woolen shirt.
It all started after the darkness he found himself in the void of the dark hole caused by the grail. After what seemed to be eternity, he suddenly found himself deprived of his vision and all his senses amiss. It was only after a couple of months had passed that he realized he had become a newborn baby!
He didn't know what happened at the time of his birth and those few months his senses have been blocked, after all a newborn's eyes don't really work all too well once they have just been born. When he opened his eyes, all he saw was that he was in the arms of a youth perhaps only a year older than his previous self. A young man of eighteen years old, what shocked Shirou at the time was the boy's outfit. He was decked in medieval wares, full armor with leather and wool clothes, as well as a greatsword.
Oh, how he wished he could have used structural analysis then. But he couldn't, for his newborn body didn't yet have the od to use such an ability. After all, he had yet to develop his magic circuits.
'Well, this life isn't so bad' He tried to find the positive in it. It has been about three years since he had been reborn as Jon Snow. And life wasn't all too bad despite being born in such a medieval setting. He was the son of a high ranking noble after all, even if he was an illegitimate son. His father seemed to be one of the nicer nobles, as he was permitted to live inside the castle walls alongside his new father's trueborn children.
He knew that not all nobles were as kind as his father. He's remembered reading some novels that some wouldn't bat an eye to killing peasants or bastards like himself. So that fact he was allowed to live with the man was telling.
He was given a caretaker and wetnurse, alongside guards following him, not to mention he heard talks that he was soon to start his education. In all honesty, Shirou was somewhat content. Sure, he was no longer in Fuyuki City, but he has long come to terms with that fact. Emiya Shirou died in that Holy Grail War, he had three years to come to terms with that knowledge. He took solace in the fact that Rin was safe, as winner of the Holy Grail War with Gilgamesh and him dead. Not to mention she had Saber with her, so he was confident she was safe.
But he really was thankful and content in his new life, even if he was a bastard born out of wedlock, his new father seemed to genuinely care for him like he did his other trueborn children. There were some problems, like his new father's lady wife, Lady Catelyn Stark's enormous disdain for him. But it was to be expected, after all, he was now the living embodiment of her husband's disloyalty and a stain on her honor.
He smiled slightly as he shook his head of those thoughts, he had already made his choice. He had no claim to his father's lands and was not the heir to Winterfell. As soon as he came of age, he decided he would travel this new world he's found himself in. One thing he's learned so far was that as this world was medieval, live steel or swords, bow and arrows, medieval weaponry was a livelihood here. Men-at-arms, knights, sellswords or mercenaries, so long as you can fight, you can live just about anywhere. And Shirou heard tales of some of the smallfolk's problems.
He already knew that not all nobility treated their subjects as nice as his Lord father did, and that to most other nobility, they were practically cattle. The nobles proved to hold no feelings to the lives of the smallfolk. He decided he would try to change that. He's seen some of the tools people have, and he knew how ineffective they were compared to the modern tools he had seen.
He still remembered some of the things he's learned in school, of the wave that the industrial revolution of the U.S created and how it affected the world, even from all the way to Japan. He remembered doing some projects and presentations of some, so he knew of some blueprints. He knew how the four field crop rotation worked, and as he's often eavesdropped on his Lord father sighing about low yield, he deduced that this world had not yet implemented it.
But a kid suddenly coming up with something farmers for hundreds of years haven't been able to do, would they really believe him? Would they grow suspicious of him?
Problems for later he figured, for now, he'll try to catch a glimpse of his new baby sister, Sansa, all he needed to do was somehow get past Lady Stark.
"Wylla!" He called, as his wet nurse looked away from her task to look at him.
"Yes, my lord?" She asked.
"Sansa" He whispered as he looked around the room. His wet nurse merely raised a brow as she sighed and shook her head. "I'm sorry young lord, but I don't think Lady Stark would let use meet the new lady"
Well, it was a worthy shot. It was hard trying to act like a kid again, but he had to persevere. Shirou didn't want them to be scared or afraid of him. He did know know if magecraft was known to this world, but from what he knew of history in his old life, it seemed that it would be best if he stayed a 'child.' He remembered the Salem witch trials he read about in his previous life, magic was to be the number one way to be seen as an outcast in such a medieval setting.
"Yard?" He questioned, adding a tilt to his head for maximum effect.
"..Alright, but wait first, young lord. Let me get you extra clothes to layer yourself, lest you get cold and get ill." Wylla said as she put away her sewing utensils and folded the wool cloth she was sewing.
As his body was too young, he had little to do for pastime. He could neither practice the sword or do archery. He could play with his trueborn brother, Robb, he was the same age as his physical body. A boy of three or three name days. But he'd rather watch the men-at-arms and squired train.
He liked to watch and see if he could incorporate any of their styles to his fighting style. Though he also was aware that he might need to use the traditional fighting style of longswords, bastard swords, and greatswords. As the swords Archer and he liked to use don't exist. He didn't even know if that style of sword existed here.
"Young lord, here. Let me help you put these on before we go to the yard" Wylla said as she came back. He let her put the added layer of clothes on him as she picked him up and the two went to the direction of the training yard.
He couldn't help but admire the walls of the castle. Winterfell, it was far bigger than the Einzberg castle he fought Archer in back in Fuyuki city. Though admittedly it was not as lavish, Winterfell held its own charm and with the years he'd spent living here, Shirou can't help but admit that it's grown on him.
It took a long twenty some minute walk, with twisting turns to finally get to the training yard. As they drew near, his ears could hear the clanging of live steel as swords clashed against each other. With grunts of men and shouts and orders of the master-at-arms.
"Hmm? Wylla, has Jon asked you to bring him here again?" Rodrik Cassel, the master-at-arms sword to House Stark asked. Chuckling as Shirou's wet nurse gave a sigh and nodded her head.
"Bastard's come again eh?"
"Agh! Screw ya' you fuckwit. Bastard or not, he still be the Lord's son!"
"Haha, good lad!"
"He shows promise to be interested in fighting at three names day eh?"
Shirou heard all the different comments but paid no mind to them. He'd grown used to the mixed feeling of the people around him. Some were neutral, some liked him, though a majority disliked him for his status as a bastard. Especially since one of the religions here viewed bastards like him as evil. He internally shook his head as he merely looked towards the master-at-arms.
"Shut up, the lot of ya!" Rodrik Cassel yelled as he quieted the yard. Shaking his head, he looked towards him and asked "Jon, you don't want to go inside and play? With Robb?"
Shaking his head, Shirou smiled "I want knight!" He said aloud. Feigning excitement, inwardly cringing at how he had to act like a child. But the very least at least it had done the job.
Chuckling, the master-at-arms merely nodded "Very well, Old Nan must have told you of em stories eh?"
Looking towards his wet nurse, Rodrik merely nodded towards her, as if a signal, Wylla too nodded before she went to one of the benches before setting him down.
Shirou smiled as he watched the men spar and train. He too would be in that yard in the future.
Been binging Asoiaf Fics. Especially fate crossovers, like 'A throne of swords', 'Game of Fate', 'A Verse of Swords and Jewels', and 'A Throne Nobody Wants'. I wanted to write one, though not sure if I'll continue. For now this will be a one-shot I guess. Don't know if it's any good though, I'll let ya'll answer that, wrote this in like 20 minutes and my desire for writing has been satiated. Peace