The Unyielding Stag (Game of Thrones AU/Invincible)
Chapter 3: Axel Stone

A/N: Finally get our first MC perspective! Axel Baratheon, or as he knows himself still, Axel Stone~

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The mountains are quiet, save for the chill wind moving through the pass. A blind man might mistakenly believe the area to be empty, just from how silent and still it is. He would be wrong though. In point of fact, this part of the Mountains of the Moon are filled with men and women at the moment. So-called 'savages' of the greatest among the mountain clans. Stone Crows. Burned Men. Black Ears. Moon Brothers. Painted Dogs.

Some are greater than others, it should be said. Yet all are united in their silence in this moment. Where normally there would be violence with this many clans gathered in one place, nobody dares to raise a hand against one another. Instead… all eyes are on the man standing in their midst. The outsider.

Wearing nothing but a thin pair of linen pants that leave little to the imagination, the young man stands at over six feet tall, broad shouldered and broad chested. His black hair is carefully maintained, while his completely smooth face makes it clear he has yet to grow facial hair despite being of similar size and stature to many of the Mountain Men in the clearing… and bigger and broader than many more.

Standing there in nothing but those thin pants in direct defiance to the cold mountain weather, Axel Stone grins as he tilts his head to the side, sweeping his gaze across them all.

"Well? Are you lot just going to stand there all day? Or are you going to come at me already?!"

Finally, two men chosen from each tribe begin to take hesitant, cautious steps forward. Ten in total, they come towards Axel without weapons in hand but clad in thick comfortable furs from head to toe. They share looks between one another; old enmity set aside for a brief moment in the face of their common foe.

Axel, meanwhile, sets his stance, clenching his square jaw and lifting his arms up. Not to defend, but to grapple, his hands open and his fingers curling like claws as his grin goes all the wider.

"COME ON THEN!"

His shout spurs the ten mountain men into action. The pride of someone from the Mountain Clans is not to be underestimated. There were some who would call them bandits and outlaws, savages with shoddy weapons and armor. The lords and ladies of the Vale in their stone castles considered them no more than vermin, nibbling at their heels by ransacking local villages and raiding lowland towns.

As the ten big, burly men reach Axel, he meets their charge head on, roaring as they all slam into him only for the younger man to barely twitch in response. Of course, as large as he is, he can really only block and grapple with three or four at most. The other six quickly surround him, raining blows down for a brief moment on his seemingly unprotected back and neck, even slamming meaty fists into his skull without a care for potential injuring him.

… They should have been more worried about themselves. The ones stupid enough to aim for his skull rather than the slightly softer parts of him are rewarded with broken fingers as they let out howls of pain. Their own attacks are turned against them by the sheer hardness of his head. Eventually, the ten men are forced to simply use their combined weight to press down on Axel until they can take him to the dirt, pinning him to the ground.

What a sight it must have been from the outside looking in for a single moment. Ten huge, hulking warriors all writhing and squirming on top of one another as they dogpile a man younger than any of them.

"HRRRAAAAGH!"

And then the moment passes and mountain men go flying in every direction as Axel launches himself up at the same time as he throws them all off of him. Rising back to his full height, half are flung away in that first moment. They're the lucky ones. The others meet his fists and elbows as he knocks them flat on their asses, one after the other. One unfortunate warrior gets kicked in the chest for his troubles and goes flying back ten feet to hit the ground hard and not rise again.

In less than a minute from start to finish, Axel is the only one left standing. However… not a single man he's just fought is dead. There's definitely a lot of pained groaning and moaning, men sobbing like maidens as they roll back and forth in pain.

… But he's been careful to moderate his strength. That kick could have gone THROUGH the mountain man's chest after all, and it hadn't.

For a tense moment, silence reigns once more as the rest of the gathered members of the five mountain clans all stare at him quietly. And then…

"Bahaha! Pay up Chella! I told you he could take ten!"

"Feh! Your Stone Crows were clearly holding back, Shagga."

"Oh? You wish to say that to my face?!"

Chella, leader of the Black Ears, does not in fact want to say that to Shagga's face. Grumbling angrily, the Mountain Chieftain nevertheless hands over payment to the leader of the Stone Crows Clan, much to Shagga's immense satisfaction. At least, if the grinning from ear to ear is anything to go off of.

Axel just watches the exchange with mild amusement, before sweeping his gaze to the men he'd just gotten done brutalizing. They would all live, more than likely, but that didn't mean some hadn't been crippled by his actions. That was just the cost of doing business in the Mountains of the Moon, however. That was the cost of seeking a challenge from Axel Stone. Shaking his head, he walks over to his clothes and begins to get dressed again.

He'd developed a bit of a reputation among the mountain clans at this point. When High Steward Royce had finally accepted that Axel couldn't stay cooped up in the Eyrie any longer and had approved the first of Axel's rangings, he'd been so… eager to start cleaning up the Vale. After all, living in the Eyrie all his life, Axel had heard tale after tale of the despicable mountain clans and their raiding of poor, innocent smallfolk of the Vale.

And yet, when he brought up fixing the problem to High Steward Royce, the older man had said it wasn't that simple. He'd explained to Axel how difficult it was for proper knights to traverse the dangerous mountain paths of the Vale. Furthermore, the High Steward had told Axel about how the mountain clans had developed an entire culture around avoiding fair fights and honorable combat.

Well no more, Axel had decided. He would stop them… by himself, if he had to.

Of course, once he'd actually gotten out here, he'd quickly learned that not all was as it seemed. Sure, the mountain clans were largely savages by the standards of the rest of the Vale, let alone Westeros as a whole… but they were still people. Dumb people by and large, but people all the same.

More than that, they respected personal strength of arms above all else. One thing had led to another and… well, it turned out that Axel's crusading was also a great way of making friends with the rough mountain folk. In the end, he'd managed to beat enough of them into submission that they'd stopped their raiding at his command.

For months now, it had continued that way, with Axel making frequent trips to visit the mountain folk and keep them on the straight and narrow. Or as much on the straight and narrow as he possibly could.

"Axel Stone! You are truly worth ten men! Maybe even more! Join my Stone Crows and you will never want for women, food, or drink, ever again!"

Shagga's boastful claim is not entirely exaggerated either, given how some of the Storm Crow women were already making hungry eyes at Axel before their Chieftain offered them up… and rather than anger them, all Shagga's words do is prompt more to shoot Axel inviting looks. Strength was extremely attractive among the mountain clans, after all.

"What?! Don't be ridiculous! If he's going to join anyone, he should be joining my Burned Men!"

"Bah, Timett, what can you offer him that the Moon Brothers cannot?"

"Less fleas for one, Ulf!"

"You take that back!"

Axel sighs as a fight very nearly breaks out over his theoretical recruitment… and this isn't the first time either. They've practically been begging him to properly join them since he first beat them all down a few months ago. Frankly, he feels that their eyes are too big for their stomachs. Even if he were willing to set aside his rather cushy castle life up at the Eyrie, he wouldn't just join them… he'd conquer them, uniting them and leading them all under his banner.

They'd fall in line too, because not a single one of them was his better. Hell, Axel was pretty sure he could take upwards of fifty of them without issue, really. His strength was not that of a normal man, nor was his flesh. He could deal damage with his fists alone that a man with a sword would struggle to do. And he could take blows and strikes that would fell most normal men.

He'd been… unusual in that way for as long as he could remember. But it wasn't until more recently that Axel had truly been able to test his limits, using the mountain clans as a whetstone to sharpen his skills and see just how strong, tough, and fast he really was.

The results? He had yet to find a limit for any of the three, actually.

Seeing that the Mountain Chieftains are all dangerously close to coming to blows, Axel sighs… and brings his palms together in front of him, clapping them hard enough to make the wind pick up and blow through the area, while also creating a loud enough sound that they all cringe and cover their ears.

"ENOUGH! I'm not joining any of you, you big oafs! In fact, I can't stay much longer. I'm needed back at the Eyrie; the Lord of the Vale is due to arrive from King's Landing today."

As if to confirm his words, a distant horn suddenly sounds. Axel is the only one who hears it, his head twitching in the direction of the Eyrie as he inhales sharply. For the High Steward to be calling him back… either Lord Arryn was close by or he was already there. In the end, it didn't really matter which, he needed to-

"Bah! Lord of the Vale. He ain't my Lord! You know what I think of-gack!?"

Crossing the distance between them fast enough that some of those watching blink and miss it, Axel buries his fist in the gut of Ulf, Chieftain of the Moon Brothers. The big, burly mountain man is lifted a few inches off the ground from the blow, and when Axel pulls his fist back, he drops to his hands and knees, throwing up his breakfast. Looming over him, Axel scowls down at the Mountain Chieftain.

"Lord Arryn is a great man. I won't tolerate any disrespect directed his way."

Nobody speaks, though some of the other Chieftains are grinning cheekily down at Ulf as he suffers for his words. They're definitely a contentious, disunified bunch these mountain clans. If not for Axel, they'd all sooner kill and spit on one another's corpses rather than meet under truce like this.

"I have to go now, but I'll try to come visit again soon. Don't worry about sticking around this area. Even if you have to move, I'll just find you again."

There's a round of nods at that, everyone more than used to Axel being able to track them down no matter where they went. Unlike the Knights of the Vale, Axel was neither weighed down by armor, nor bogged down by needing a horse. He also didn't exactly need to stick to established paths either, all things considered.

Letting out an explosive breath, the young man gives everyone a nod of his own goodbye before turning to depart. However, just before he can go… a weathered, ancient voice echoes out through the area.

"You will not visit us again any time soon, young Stone. This will be the last time we see you for quite a while."

Blinking, Axel turns back as everyone else looks to the speaker. Dolf, father of Shagga, one of the oldest living mountain men, sits there in a makeshift chair of sticks and furs, his eyes clouded over with blindness while his gray beard and hair make it clear that he's lived far, far longer than most.

Shagga grunts and furrows his brow at his father.

"Eh? What does that mean, old man? What are ya seein' this time?"

Dolf's blindness came with a 'gift', though Axel had never been sure he believed in it. According to the Stone Crows, the former Chieftain received visions of the future from time to time. Ridiculous, of course. But…

"The young Stone goes to meet with the Vale Lord… and the Vale Lord comes to take him away from the Mountains of the Moon."

There's a lot of conflicted looks shot in Axel's direction at that. Many of them hate him for being stronger, faster, and tougher than them. Just as many love him for the exact same thing. Axel, meanwhile, is just plain confused. Lord Arryn was coming to take him away? Why? He was nobody. Just a lowly bastard.

Sure, he'd long since figured out that he might be the bastard of someone important, given that he'd been raised in a proper castle by the High Steward himself and the fact that he'd been given the last name Stone whereas bastards born to smallfolk were given no such recognition. But that was that and this was this.

Heh, from time to time, Axel had even privately pondered the notion that he might be Lord Arryn's bastard. The man had been… kind to him each time he'd visited throughout Axel's life and he'd thought it might be nice if secretly, they shared a blood connection. But he'd never asked. Not just because he didn't want to cause problems, but also because… by not knowing for sure, he could continue to pretend it was true.

Still, as far as he knew, Lord Arryn's visit shouldn't have much of anything to do with him. News of the King's death had reached Axel's ears, and that sounded awfully tragic… but he was just a bastard. A nobody.

Snorting in amusement, Axel shakes his head at old Dolf.

"You're going senile, old man. But on the off chance Lord Arryn does need me for something… just know that I can always come back and kick some sense into your thick skulls if I hear any of you have taken up raiding again."

He sweeps his gaze across the gathered clans and is gratified to see big, strong mountain warriors all avert their eyes one after the other. Smirking, Axel just nods and turns to leave again, this time not looking back as he leaps and grabs a rocky outcropping that's about twenty feet above his head. Then he leaps again, and another leap takes him over the ridge and out of their sight.

This was why Axel was so much better at dealing with the mountain clans than the Knights of the Vale. He could traverse the Mountains of the Moon faster than any knight or clansman who had ever lived. Leaping from rock to rock, jumping from ridge to ridge, bounding from cliff to cliff, Axel begins to make his way back to the Eyrie taking a route that only he can take.

He puts the old man's words out of his mind as he goes. Sure, Lord Arryn would probably have asked to see him while he was visiting, hence the High Steward using the horn… but taking him from the Vale?

That was utterly ridiculous. One of the things High Steward Royce and Lord Arryn had drilled into Axel's head from an early age was that he would likely never be allowed to leave the Vale. As they'd explained it, it was far better for all involved if he remained right here in the Mountains of the Moon, safe and sound.

And Axel didn't mind that one bit. The Vale was his home, after all… and there was still plenty of things for him to do here. Why would he ever leave?

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