ThunderBasilisk
Well Worn Bastion
- Joined
- Mar 23, 2020
- Messages
- 11,390
- Likes received
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Huh he destroyed a Elderitch throne. Cool. That wont have any consequences. And god damn things keep going to shit with the mc being gone.
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DRAGONS REBORN: The Era After SI (GOT story
- Thread starter Zeld
- Start date
-
- Tags
- au elements kind si
Maksell
Spite and Sorrow I hold. Love and Care I desire.
- Joined
- Jul 28, 2023
- Messages
- 279
- Likes received
- 2,720
Even if the story is about after-effects of SI, I still think it's pretty neat.
Even if Planetos is filled with morally questionable things and a lot of opportunistic mindsets, it's simply nice to see how much one man with some kindness in his heart and goal in mind, can change.
Just like the world shapes people, people shape the world. I think that despite many changes and new problems, there should be less death and loss on the 'good side' in the war's to come.
That said, idk how much SI prepared for the Long Night, but there is a lot of rarely used things and connections he could have gained.
Maybe some hidden deals with Moon worshipers, maybe some shadow warlocks, maybe even some trade deals with Yi Ti to gain some good food supply. Who knows.
Anyways, story ain't flawless, but concept alone is worth the look and the read is not bad so far. Keep it up and thanks for the effort.
Even if Planetos is filled with morally questionable things and a lot of opportunistic mindsets, it's simply nice to see how much one man with some kindness in his heart and goal in mind, can change.
Just like the world shapes people, people shape the world. I think that despite many changes and new problems, there should be less death and loss on the 'good side' in the war's to come.
That said, idk how much SI prepared for the Long Night, but there is a lot of rarely used things and connections he could have gained.
Maybe some hidden deals with Moon worshipers, maybe some shadow warlocks, maybe even some trade deals with Yi Ti to gain some good food supply. Who knows.
Anyways, story ain't flawless, but concept alone is worth the look and the read is not bad so far. Keep it up and thanks for the effort.
Chapter 16
Zeld
I trust you know where the happy button is?
- Joined
- Jan 30, 2022
- Messages
- 997
- Likes received
- 106,974
Chapter 16
The reasons for the absence of the North and the Vale from the initial stages of the war are often debated by Historians while discussing the Rebellion faced by King Rhaegar I. At that time, there was no obvious reason for preserving the strength of these kingdoms, especially when the Kingdom was fighting for survival. Yet the incidents of the next decade proved to be right.
Decisions like this and others like the establishment of communication with the Free Folk king give credence to the rumors of King Aerys's mythical abilities to be a dreamer and are considered as proof by many that the man had been blessed much like Daenys dreamer himself.
The joys from the victory against the Greyjoys were short-lived with the death of Queen Elia's brother. Oberyn Martell, younger brother to Doran and Elia Martell, was a man of adventure and made fast friends wherever he went. The man was appointed as the governor of the Stepstones by the King, and the letters recovered by the historians show that that man's ability to make fats friends was one of the reasons the King appointed the man to such an important post.
Given the title of the "Red Viper," the man was one of the kingdom's deadliest fighters and was later honored by the Royal family and named a regiment in the army after the man. 'The Vipers' regiment remains part of the military to this day and is considered one of the most elite forces in the world, and each Viper is trained to wield a spear to this day, for the Red Viper was said to wield one himself.
0000
DAENYS TARGARYEN
Daenys Targaryen sat in the gardens with her good sister and Queen, Elia. There was in common between her and Elia Martell, but the woman was cordial and easy to get along with, and hence Daenys had become fast friends with her over the years. And that was exactly why she knew just how much she cared for her little brother, Oberyn. And just how badly she would be affected by his death. And they couldn't afford that.
And her eyes went to her swollen belly. Her brother and Elia had lost a child a couple of years ago, and her health had suffered greatly with, and rumors of her inability to have any more children, and it was speculated that the King wished to have the marriage between her and Prince Rhaegar annulled.
She scoffed as she thought of that. Like her father would ever do such a thing. The man had put an end to all such rumors quickly and had even asked her brother to give Elia time to recover properly before they tried for another child.
"Are you fine, Daenys?" the question from Elia broker her out of her trance and Daenys nodded at the Queen.
"Of course, I was just thinking about Father and how happy he would have been at the thought of having another grandchild," she said a little wistfully, and Elia's lips thinned as well, and she nodded.
"Indeed, he would have been delighted," said Elia. And silence came over them once more. And then Elia broke it once again.
"Have you given any thought to what we discussed about your marriage," questioned Elia, and Daenys groaned internally but nodded nonetheless. The Queen squeezed her hand in reassurance.
"I just want you to keep an open mind. No one here will ever force you into a match against your will but you have to get married one day," said Elia with a smile, and Daenys lips thinned as she replied.
"I just don't want to lose my freedoms. I don't want to become a broodmare for some entitled brat," Daenys complained, and Elia smiled as she said scandalously.
"So, you are calling me a broodmare," Daenys's shoulder slumped, and she shook her head.
"You know what I meant by that," she groaned, and Elia nodded.
"I was just making a joke. And I know what you mean. Father's relationship with mother was quite exemplary, if I say so myself, and me and Rhaegar try and replicate it as well. But you must consider that it was also your father who thought of pursuing a match between you and Jamie Lannister. He must have seen something in him to consider him even worthy of his princess," Elia assured her, and Daenys nodded.
"I know, but I am still afraid," she said, and Elia smiled forlornly.
"Did you know I felt the same way when I married your brother? I believe it is quite natural to be afraid. But we cannot let our fear rule over us," Elia spoke slowly before wincing in pain. Daenys immediately reached for her hand.
"Are you fine?" she questioned, and Elia nodded, her brows still scrunched in pain.
"It will be fine," yet the relief never came, and suddenly Elia began to scream in pain, making Daenys heart thump with worry. At the Queen's cry, the Castle guards rushed towards them, led by Ser Gerold.
"AGH!" Elia screamed in pain, and Daenys could only hold her hand before her eyes widened as she saw her dress becoming wet, and realization dawned on her, and she immediately screamed.
"GET THE MAESTERS! THE QUEEN'S WATER HAS BROKEN!"
0000
AEMON TARGARYEN
Aemon Targaryen sat in his solar, dreading the conversation he was about to have with the man sitting opposite him. The Quiet Wolf of the North, Eddard Stark, was nearly as imposing as his father Rickard Stark.
The man had the symbolic brown Stark hair along with those striking grey eyes. The man had traversed the lands across the Wall on the orders of his brother, though one could say it had actually been his father's orders.
"So, Lord Eddard, I believe there is no time to waste, so why don't we skip straight to the topic" began Aemon, and the man nodded.
"So, was my father right," said Aemon, and Eddard Stark nodded slowly.
"He was, my prince. The Freefolks confirmed everything he told us," said the man, and then he reached into his pocket and took out a scroll.
"And regarding that, my brother has written this missive to the Crown asking for permission regarding various matters," and Aemon nodded as he took the missive and opened it. And though he had the authority to deal with it, with his brother barely hours from the capital, it would be better to leave it all up to him.
"The King is set to return today, and he will deal with this. Moving on, I believe you have something of my family in your possession," said Aemon, and Eddard Stark nodded. The man slowly reached down and placed a clothed object on his desk.
Aemon's heart shook as he saw the clothed object, and then with quivering fingers, he took off the cloth covering the object. He gasped as he saw the object lying there. It was a sword. It was their sword, one of the ancestral swords of House Targaryen.
"Dark Sister!' he gasped as he held up the legendary blade, and the very blade gleamed in joy as he picked it up.
"We found it stuck in the ground, near a giant weir wood tree just as the King instructed," spoke Eddard and Aemon nodded, his mind questioning just how did his father know about its location. And now, with his demise, he couldn't even question the man.
The sword was like a gift from him.
"The Crown thanks you for your service and will bestow an appropriate reward onto you, Lord Eddard," spoke Aemon, and Eddard Stark nodded.
"The Starks of Winterfell are at your service, my prince," said the man, and then just as Aemon was about to speak up there was a knock on the doors.
Aemon gently wrapped the sword in cloth once more, and placed it under the desk, before he spoke up.
"Come in," he said, and the doors swung open to reveal the form of Ser Gerold, and the man had a rather big smile on his face.
"My prince, your mother is summoning you to the Queen's chambers," and Aemon frowned, yet stood up nonetheless.
"What has happened?" he questioned as he rushed towards the commander of the Kingsguard and the man smiled and spoke up.
"The Gods have blessed your brother, with a son," came the reply, and relief ran through his body at those words. Eddard Stark had joined him as well. Aemon looked back toward the man and, with a sheepish smile, spoke up.
"I believe I must cut our meeting short, Lord Eddard," and the man shook his head and simply bowed.
"As you say, my prince," said the man, and then Aemon rushed out of his solar and rushed towards the Queen's chambers.
0000
RHAEGAR TARGARYEN
Rhaegar Targaryen raced past the streets of Kinglanding, the familiar streets of the City helped ease his heart from the perils of the war he had just fought. Under normal circumstances, there would have been a Victory march in the City, yet the circumstances were anything but normal.
The people parted ways and broke out in cheers, as soon as they saw his horse racing down the streets. The Castle gates were opened and the guards blew the horns indicating his arrival The Royal guards bustled and formed two lines around the gates.
He galloped past the gates and rushed towards the main gate of the Red Keep. He pulled the reins of his horse and came to a halt in front of a small retinue standing outside the gates to welcome him. Aemon led them as he stood there dressed in a black tunic, with a massive smile on his face.
Rhaegar jumped off his horse, rushed towards his brother, and crushed him in a hug, as the two brothers finally met after all this time. And suddenly, Aemon whispered quietly in his ears.
"I believe congratulations are in order, Rhaegar," and Rhaegar's heart skipped a beat as he separated and looked at Aemon, who nodded and confirmed his suspicion.
"The Queen has given birth to a healthy babe. The Gods have blessed you with another son," said Aemon, and Rhaegar's lips thinned, and he barely exchanged greetings with the Lords accompanying his brother before he rushed past them, his steps brisk and quick as he rushed towards the Queen's chambers.
There was a sense of joy and jubilation in the castle, and the servants congratulated him as he rushed past them. He finally reached the Queen's chambers and, after a deep breath, walked in slowly, and there in the bed lay his wife, her hair messy and sweaty. Yet there was a smile on her face as she leaned to the side and continued to coo at the small bundle resting in the hands of his mother.
To her other side sat Daenys, who was the first one to look up at him before she rushed forwards and lept at him.
"Brother, you are back!" she said, and Rhaegar nodded as he held his sister tightly, and he didn't miss how she had become taller over the time he had gone. The two of them hugged each other before he slowly walked toward Elia and his mother.
Elia smiled at him, and as he came closer, his mother gently passed his son to him.
"He takes after you," said his mother with a smile. And Rhaegar's heart thumped as he held his child, and felt his eyes wet. The babe had a small tuft of silvery blonde hair and the symbolic amethyst Targaryen eyes.
"Have you decided on a name?" he questioned slowly, his voice quivering, and Elia nodded before she looked toward his mother.
"I have, and with mother's permission, I would like to name him Aerys, in honor of father," said Elia and Rhaegar looked towards his mother, whose eyes had become red. Her lips quivered before she slowly nodded her head, and her eyes landed on the child in his arm once more.
"Prince Aerys Targaryen," she said with a smile, giving her permission, and Rhaegar smiled and gently kissed his son, Aerys.
"You should go and rest Rhaegar," his mother said gently from the side before turning to face Elia," and Elia, you as well. I will take care of the babe," she said as she gestured for him to hand her the babe. And just as he was about to protest her mother's eyes narrowed as she gently teased him.
"He will be fine with me Rhaegar, after all, I did raise three children myself," retorted his mother making Elia break out in a small laugh. Rhaegar handed her his son, reluctantly. And then with a nod towards Elia, his mother began to walk out of the room.
"All right, you should rest, and then we can finally have a talk afterward," and with those words, his mother left the room. Leaving him alone with Elia, Rhaegar sat down on the side of her bed and kissed his wife. Those lips felt like heaven after all these months of separation, and they both lost each other like that before they finally separated, both huffing for breath.
"It is good to have you back, Rhaegar," said Elia as she squeezed her hand. And Rhaegar nodded.
"It is good to be back as well."
0000
As always, you can read ahead and support me on Pa-tre 0n. Your support makes it possible for me to write. So, if possible, have a look and consider dropping a dime if possible. It would mean a lot to me.
www.Patreon.com/Drkest
Thanks for reading!Chapter 16
The reasons for the absence of the North and the Vale from the initial stages of the war are often debated by Historians while discussing the Rebellion faced by King Rhaegar I. At that time, there was no obvious reason for preserving the strength of these kingdoms, especially when the Kingdom was fighting for survival. Yet the incidents of the next decade proved to be right.
Decisions like this and others like the establishment of communication with the Free Folk king give credence to the rumors of King Aerys's mythical abilities to be a dreamer and are considered as proof by many that the man had been blessed much like Daenys dreamer himself.
The joys from the victory against the Greyjoys were short-lived with the death of Queen Elia's brother. Oberyn Martell, younger brother to Doran and Elia Martell, was a man of adventure and made fast friends wherever he went. The man was appointed as the governor of the Stepstones by the King, and the letters recovered by the historians show that that man's ability to make fats friends was one of the reasons the King appointed the man to such an important post.
Given the title of the "Red Viper," the man was one of the kingdom's deadliest fighters and was later honored by the Royal family and named a regiment in the army after the man. 'The Vipers' regiment remains part of the military to this day and is considered one of the most elite forces in the world, and each Viper is trained to wield a spear to this day, for the Red Viper was said to wield one himself.
0000
DAENYS TARGARYEN
Daenys Targaryen sat in the gardens with her good sister and Queen, Elia. There was in common between her and Elia Martell, but the woman was cordial and easy to get along with, and hence Daenys had become fast friends with her over the years. And that was exactly why she knew just how much she cared for her little brother, Oberyn. And just how badly she would be affected by his death. And they couldn't afford that.
And her eyes went to her swollen belly. Her brother and Elia had lost a child a couple of years ago, and her health had suffered greatly with, and rumors of her inability to have any more children, and it was speculated that the King wished to have the marriage between her and Prince Rhaegar annulled.
She scoffed as she thought of that. Like her father would ever do such a thing. The man had put an end to all such rumors quickly and had even asked her brother to give Elia time to recover properly before they tried for another child.
"Are you fine, Daenys?" the question from Elia broker her out of her trance and Daenys nodded at the Queen.
"Of course, I was just thinking about Father and how happy he would have been at the thought of having another grandchild," she said a little wistfully, and Elia's lips thinned as well, and she nodded.
"Indeed, he would have been delighted," said Elia. And silence came over them once more. And then Elia broke it once again.
"Have you given any thought to what we discussed about your marriage," questioned Elia, and Daenys groaned internally but nodded nonetheless. The Queen squeezed her hand in reassurance.
"I just want you to keep an open mind. No one here will ever force you into a match against your will but you have to get married one day," said Elia with a smile, and Daenys lips thinned as she replied.
"I just don't want to lose my freedoms. I don't want to become a broodmare for some entitled brat," Daenys complained, and Elia smiled as she said scandalously.
"So, you are calling me a broodmare," Daenys's shoulder slumped, and she shook her head.
"You know what I meant by that," she groaned, and Elia nodded.
"I was just making a joke. And I know what you mean. Father's relationship with mother was quite exemplary, if I say so myself, and me and Rhaegar try and replicate it as well. But you must consider that it was also your father who thought of pursuing a match between you and Jamie Lannister. He must have seen something in him to consider him even worthy of his princess," Elia assured her, and Daenys nodded.
"I know, but I am still afraid," she said, and Elia smiled forlornly.
"Did you know I felt the same way when I married your brother? I believe it is quite natural to be afraid. But we cannot let our fear rule over us," Elia spoke slowly before wincing in pain. Daenys immediately reached for her hand.
"Are you fine?" she questioned, and Elia nodded, her brows still scrunched in pain.
"It will be fine," yet the relief never came, and suddenly Elia began to scream in pain, making Daenys heart thump with worry. At the Queen's cry, the Castle guards rushed towards them, led by Ser Gerold.
"AGH!" Elia screamed in pain, and Daenys could only hold her hand before her eyes widened as she saw her dress becoming wet, and realization dawned on her, and she immediately screamed.
"GET THE MAESTERS! THE QUEEN'S WATER HAS BROKEN!"
0000
AEMON TARGARYEN
Aemon Targaryen sat in his solar, dreading the conversation he was about to have with the man sitting opposite him. The Quiet Wolf of the North, Eddard Stark, was nearly as imposing as his father Rickard Stark.
The man had the symbolic brown Stark hair along with those striking grey eyes. The man had traversed the lands across the Wall on the orders of his brother, though one could say it had actually been his father's orders.
"So, Lord Eddard, I believe there is no time to waste, so why don't we skip straight to the topic" began Aemon, and the man nodded.
"So, was my father right," said Aemon, and Eddard Stark nodded slowly.
"He was, my prince. The Freefolks confirmed everything he told us," said the man, and then he reached into his pocket and took out a scroll.
"And regarding that, my brother has written this missive to the Crown asking for permission regarding various matters," and Aemon nodded as he took the missive and opened it. And though he had the authority to deal with it, with his brother barely hours from the capital, it would be better to leave it all up to him.
"The King is set to return today, and he will deal with this. Moving on, I believe you have something of my family in your possession," said Aemon, and Eddard Stark nodded. The man slowly reached down and placed a clothed object on his desk.
Aemon's heart shook as he saw the clothed object, and then with quivering fingers, he took off the cloth covering the object. He gasped as he saw the object lying there. It was a sword. It was their sword, one of the ancestral swords of House Targaryen.
"Dark Sister!' he gasped as he held up the legendary blade, and the very blade gleamed in joy as he picked it up.
"We found it stuck in the ground, near a giant weir wood tree just as the King instructed," spoke Eddard and Aemon nodded, his mind questioning just how did his father know about its location. And now, with his demise, he couldn't even question the man.
The sword was like a gift from him.
"The Crown thanks you for your service and will bestow an appropriate reward onto you, Lord Eddard," spoke Aemon, and Eddard Stark nodded.
"The Starks of Winterfell are at your service, my prince," said the man, and then just as Aemon was about to speak up there was a knock on the doors.
Aemon gently wrapped the sword in cloth once more, and placed it under the desk, before he spoke up.
"Come in," he said, and the doors swung open to reveal the form of Ser Gerold, and the man had a rather big smile on his face.
"My prince, your mother is summoning you to the Queen's chambers," and Aemon frowned, yet stood up nonetheless.
"What has happened?" he questioned as he rushed towards the commander of the Kingsguard and the man smiled and spoke up.
"The Gods have blessed your brother, with a son," came the reply, and relief ran through his body at those words. Eddard Stark had joined him as well. Aemon looked back toward the man and, with a sheepish smile, spoke up.
"I believe I must cut our meeting short, Lord Eddard," and the man shook his head and simply bowed.
"As you say, my prince," said the man, and then Aemon rushed out of his solar and rushed towards the Queen's chambers.
0000
RHAEGAR TARGARYEN
Rhaegar Targaryen raced past the streets of Kinglanding, the familiar streets of the City helped ease his heart from the perils of the war he had just fought. Under normal circumstances, there would have been a Victory march in the City, yet the circumstances were anything but normal.
The people parted ways and broke out in cheers, as soon as they saw his horse racing down the streets. The Castle gates were opened and the guards blew the horns indicating his arrival The Royal guards bustled and formed two lines around the gates.
He galloped past the gates and rushed towards the main gate of the Red Keep. He pulled the reins of his horse and came to a halt in front of a small retinue standing outside the gates to welcome him. Aemon led them as he stood there dressed in a black tunic, with a massive smile on his face.
Rhaegar jumped off his horse, rushed towards his brother, and crushed him in a hug, as the two brothers finally met after all this time. And suddenly, Aemon whispered quietly in his ears.
"I believe congratulations are in order, Rhaegar," and Rhaegar's heart skipped a beat as he separated and looked at Aemon, who nodded and confirmed his suspicion.
"The Queen has given birth to a healthy babe. The Gods have blessed you with another son," said Aemon, and Rhaegar's lips thinned, and he barely exchanged greetings with the Lords accompanying his brother before he rushed past them, his steps brisk and quick as he rushed towards the Queen's chambers.
There was a sense of joy and jubilation in the castle, and the servants congratulated him as he rushed past them. He finally reached the Queen's chambers and, after a deep breath, walked in slowly, and there in the bed lay his wife, her hair messy and sweaty. Yet there was a smile on her face as she leaned to the side and continued to coo at the small bundle resting in the hands of his mother.
To her other side sat Daenys, who was the first one to look up at him before she rushed forwards and lept at him.
"Brother, you are back!" she said, and Rhaegar nodded as he held his sister tightly, and he didn't miss how she had become taller over the time he had gone. The two of them hugged each other before he slowly walked toward Elia and his mother.
Elia smiled at him, and as he came closer, his mother gently passed his son to him.
"He takes after you," said his mother with a smile. And Rhaegar's heart thumped as he held his child, and felt his eyes wet. The babe had a small tuft of silvery blonde hair and the symbolic amethyst Targaryen eyes.
"Have you decided on a name?" he questioned slowly, his voice quivering, and Elia nodded before she looked toward his mother.
"I have, and with mother's permission, I would like to name him Aerys, in honor of father," said Elia and Rhaegar looked towards his mother, whose eyes had become red. Her lips quivered before she slowly nodded her head, and her eyes landed on the child in his arm once more.
"Prince Aerys Targaryen," she said with a smile, giving her permission, and Rhaegar smiled and gently kissed his son, Aerys.
"You should go and rest Rhaegar," his mother said gently from the side before turning to face Elia," and Elia, you as well. I will take care of the babe," she said as she gestured for him to hand her the babe. And just as he was about to protest her mother's eyes narrowed as she gently teased him.
"He will be fine with me Rhaegar, after all, I did raise three children myself," retorted his mother making Elia break out in a small laugh. Rhaegar handed her his son, reluctantly. And then with a nod towards Elia, his mother began to walk out of the room.
"All right, you should rest, and then we can finally have a talk afterward," and with those words, his mother left the room. Leaving him alone with Elia, Rhaegar sat down on the side of her bed and kissed his wife. Those lips felt like heaven after all these months of separation, and they both lost each other like that before they finally separated, both huffing for breath.
"It is good to have you back, Rhaegar," said Elia as she squeezed her hand. And Rhaegar nodded.
"It is good to be back as well."
0000
As always, you can read ahead and support me on Pa-tre 0n. Your support makes it possible for me to write. So, if possible, have a look and consider dropping a dime if possible. It would mean a lot to me.
www.Patreon.com/Drkest
Thanks for reading!
The reasons for the absence of the North and the Vale from the initial stages of the war are often debated by Historians while discussing the Rebellion faced by King Rhaegar I. At that time, there was no obvious reason for preserving the strength of these kingdoms, especially when the Kingdom was fighting for survival. Yet the incidents of the next decade proved to be right.
Decisions like this and others like the establishment of communication with the Free Folk king give credence to the rumors of King Aerys's mythical abilities to be a dreamer and are considered as proof by many that the man had been blessed much like Daenys dreamer himself.
The joys from the victory against the Greyjoys were short-lived with the death of Queen Elia's brother. Oberyn Martell, younger brother to Doran and Elia Martell, was a man of adventure and made fast friends wherever he went. The man was appointed as the governor of the Stepstones by the King, and the letters recovered by the historians show that that man's ability to make fats friends was one of the reasons the King appointed the man to such an important post.
Given the title of the "Red Viper," the man was one of the kingdom's deadliest fighters and was later honored by the Royal family and named a regiment in the army after the man. 'The Vipers' regiment remains part of the military to this day and is considered one of the most elite forces in the world, and each Viper is trained to wield a spear to this day, for the Red Viper was said to wield one himself.
0000
DAENYS TARGARYEN
Daenys Targaryen sat in the gardens with her good sister and Queen, Elia. There was in common between her and Elia Martell, but the woman was cordial and easy to get along with, and hence Daenys had become fast friends with her over the years. And that was exactly why she knew just how much she cared for her little brother, Oberyn. And just how badly she would be affected by his death. And they couldn't afford that.
And her eyes went to her swollen belly. Her brother and Elia had lost a child a couple of years ago, and her health had suffered greatly with, and rumors of her inability to have any more children, and it was speculated that the King wished to have the marriage between her and Prince Rhaegar annulled.
She scoffed as she thought of that. Like her father would ever do such a thing. The man had put an end to all such rumors quickly and had even asked her brother to give Elia time to recover properly before they tried for another child.
"Are you fine, Daenys?" the question from Elia broker her out of her trance and Daenys nodded at the Queen.
"Of course, I was just thinking about Father and how happy he would have been at the thought of having another grandchild," she said a little wistfully, and Elia's lips thinned as well, and she nodded.
"Indeed, he would have been delighted," said Elia. And silence came over them once more. And then Elia broke it once again.
"Have you given any thought to what we discussed about your marriage," questioned Elia, and Daenys groaned internally but nodded nonetheless. The Queen squeezed her hand in reassurance.
"I just want you to keep an open mind. No one here will ever force you into a match against your will but you have to get married one day," said Elia with a smile, and Daenys lips thinned as she replied.
"I just don't want to lose my freedoms. I don't want to become a broodmare for some entitled brat," Daenys complained, and Elia smiled as she said scandalously.
"So, you are calling me a broodmare," Daenys's shoulder slumped, and she shook her head.
"You know what I meant by that," she groaned, and Elia nodded.
"I was just making a joke. And I know what you mean. Father's relationship with mother was quite exemplary, if I say so myself, and me and Rhaegar try and replicate it as well. But you must consider that it was also your father who thought of pursuing a match between you and Jamie Lannister. He must have seen something in him to consider him even worthy of his princess," Elia assured her, and Daenys nodded.
"I know, but I am still afraid," she said, and Elia smiled forlornly.
"Did you know I felt the same way when I married your brother? I believe it is quite natural to be afraid. But we cannot let our fear rule over us," Elia spoke slowly before wincing in pain. Daenys immediately reached for her hand.
"Are you fine?" she questioned, and Elia nodded, her brows still scrunched in pain.
"It will be fine," yet the relief never came, and suddenly Elia began to scream in pain, making Daenys heart thump with worry. At the Queen's cry, the Castle guards rushed towards them, led by Ser Gerold.
"AGH!" Elia screamed in pain, and Daenys could only hold her hand before her eyes widened as she saw her dress becoming wet, and realization dawned on her, and she immediately screamed.
"GET THE MAESTERS! THE QUEEN'S WATER HAS BROKEN!"
0000
AEMON TARGARYEN
Aemon Targaryen sat in his solar, dreading the conversation he was about to have with the man sitting opposite him. The Quiet Wolf of the North, Eddard Stark, was nearly as imposing as his father Rickard Stark.
The man had the symbolic brown Stark hair along with those striking grey eyes. The man had traversed the lands across the Wall on the orders of his brother, though one could say it had actually been his father's orders.
"So, Lord Eddard, I believe there is no time to waste, so why don't we skip straight to the topic" began Aemon, and the man nodded.
"So, was my father right," said Aemon, and Eddard Stark nodded slowly.
"He was, my prince. The Freefolks confirmed everything he told us," said the man, and then he reached into his pocket and took out a scroll.
"And regarding that, my brother has written this missive to the Crown asking for permission regarding various matters," and Aemon nodded as he took the missive and opened it. And though he had the authority to deal with it, with his brother barely hours from the capital, it would be better to leave it all up to him.
"The King is set to return today, and he will deal with this. Moving on, I believe you have something of my family in your possession," said Aemon, and Eddard Stark nodded. The man slowly reached down and placed a clothed object on his desk.
Aemon's heart shook as he saw the clothed object, and then with quivering fingers, he took off the cloth covering the object. He gasped as he saw the object lying there. It was a sword. It was their sword, one of the ancestral swords of House Targaryen.
"Dark Sister!' he gasped as he held up the legendary blade, and the very blade gleamed in joy as he picked it up.
"We found it stuck in the ground, near a giant weir wood tree just as the King instructed," spoke Eddard and Aemon nodded, his mind questioning just how did his father know about its location. And now, with his demise, he couldn't even question the man.
The sword was like a gift from him.
"The Crown thanks you for your service and will bestow an appropriate reward onto you, Lord Eddard," spoke Aemon, and Eddard Stark nodded.
"The Starks of Winterfell are at your service, my prince," said the man, and then just as Aemon was about to speak up there was a knock on the doors.
Aemon gently wrapped the sword in cloth once more, and placed it under the desk, before he spoke up.
"Come in," he said, and the doors swung open to reveal the form of Ser Gerold, and the man had a rather big smile on his face.
"My prince, your mother is summoning you to the Queen's chambers," and Aemon frowned, yet stood up nonetheless.
"What has happened?" he questioned as he rushed towards the commander of the Kingsguard and the man smiled and spoke up.
"The Gods have blessed your brother, with a son," came the reply, and relief ran through his body at those words. Eddard Stark had joined him as well. Aemon looked back toward the man and, with a sheepish smile, spoke up.
"I believe I must cut our meeting short, Lord Eddard," and the man shook his head and simply bowed.
"As you say, my prince," said the man, and then Aemon rushed out of his solar and rushed towards the Queen's chambers.
0000
RHAEGAR TARGARYEN
Rhaegar Targaryen raced past the streets of Kinglanding, the familiar streets of the City helped ease his heart from the perils of the war he had just fought. Under normal circumstances, there would have been a Victory march in the City, yet the circumstances were anything but normal.
The people parted ways and broke out in cheers, as soon as they saw his horse racing down the streets. The Castle gates were opened and the guards blew the horns indicating his arrival The Royal guards bustled and formed two lines around the gates.
He galloped past the gates and rushed towards the main gate of the Red Keep. He pulled the reins of his horse and came to a halt in front of a small retinue standing outside the gates to welcome him. Aemon led them as he stood there dressed in a black tunic, with a massive smile on his face.
Rhaegar jumped off his horse, rushed towards his brother, and crushed him in a hug, as the two brothers finally met after all this time. And suddenly, Aemon whispered quietly in his ears.
"I believe congratulations are in order, Rhaegar," and Rhaegar's heart skipped a beat as he separated and looked at Aemon, who nodded and confirmed his suspicion.
"The Queen has given birth to a healthy babe. The Gods have blessed you with another son," said Aemon, and Rhaegar's lips thinned, and he barely exchanged greetings with the Lords accompanying his brother before he rushed past them, his steps brisk and quick as he rushed towards the Queen's chambers.
There was a sense of joy and jubilation in the castle, and the servants congratulated him as he rushed past them. He finally reached the Queen's chambers and, after a deep breath, walked in slowly, and there in the bed lay his wife, her hair messy and sweaty. Yet there was a smile on her face as she leaned to the side and continued to coo at the small bundle resting in the hands of his mother.
To her other side sat Daenys, who was the first one to look up at him before she rushed forwards and lept at him.
"Brother, you are back!" she said, and Rhaegar nodded as he held his sister tightly, and he didn't miss how she had become taller over the time he had gone. The two of them hugged each other before he slowly walked toward Elia and his mother.
Elia smiled at him, and as he came closer, his mother gently passed his son to him.
"He takes after you," said his mother with a smile. And Rhaegar's heart thumped as he held his child, and felt his eyes wet. The babe had a small tuft of silvery blonde hair and the symbolic amethyst Targaryen eyes.
"Have you decided on a name?" he questioned slowly, his voice quivering, and Elia nodded before she looked toward his mother.
"I have, and with mother's permission, I would like to name him Aerys, in honor of father," said Elia and Rhaegar looked towards his mother, whose eyes had become red. Her lips quivered before she slowly nodded her head, and her eyes landed on the child in his arm once more.
"Prince Aerys Targaryen," she said with a smile, giving her permission, and Rhaegar smiled and gently kissed his son, Aerys.
"You should go and rest Rhaegar," his mother said gently from the side before turning to face Elia," and Elia, you as well. I will take care of the babe," she said as she gestured for him to hand her the babe. And just as he was about to protest her mother's eyes narrowed as she gently teased him.
"He will be fine with me Rhaegar, after all, I did raise three children myself," retorted his mother making Elia break out in a small laugh. Rhaegar handed her his son, reluctantly. And then with a nod towards Elia, his mother began to walk out of the room.
"All right, you should rest, and then we can finally have a talk afterward," and with those words, his mother left the room. Leaving him alone with Elia, Rhaegar sat down on the side of her bed and kissed his wife. Those lips felt like heaven after all these months of separation, and they both lost each other like that before they finally separated, both huffing for breath.
"It is good to have you back, Rhaegar," said Elia as she squeezed her hand. And Rhaegar nodded.
"It is good to be back as well."
0000
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Thanks for reading!Chapter 16
The reasons for the absence of the North and the Vale from the initial stages of the war are often debated by Historians while discussing the Rebellion faced by King Rhaegar I. At that time, there was no obvious reason for preserving the strength of these kingdoms, especially when the Kingdom was fighting for survival. Yet the incidents of the next decade proved to be right.
Decisions like this and others like the establishment of communication with the Free Folk king give credence to the rumors of King Aerys's mythical abilities to be a dreamer and are considered as proof by many that the man had been blessed much like Daenys dreamer himself.
The joys from the victory against the Greyjoys were short-lived with the death of Queen Elia's brother. Oberyn Martell, younger brother to Doran and Elia Martell, was a man of adventure and made fast friends wherever he went. The man was appointed as the governor of the Stepstones by the King, and the letters recovered by the historians show that that man's ability to make fats friends was one of the reasons the King appointed the man to such an important post.
Given the title of the "Red Viper," the man was one of the kingdom's deadliest fighters and was later honored by the Royal family and named a regiment in the army after the man. 'The Vipers' regiment remains part of the military to this day and is considered one of the most elite forces in the world, and each Viper is trained to wield a spear to this day, for the Red Viper was said to wield one himself.
0000
DAENYS TARGARYEN
Daenys Targaryen sat in the gardens with her good sister and Queen, Elia. There was in common between her and Elia Martell, but the woman was cordial and easy to get along with, and hence Daenys had become fast friends with her over the years. And that was exactly why she knew just how much she cared for her little brother, Oberyn. And just how badly she would be affected by his death. And they couldn't afford that.
And her eyes went to her swollen belly. Her brother and Elia had lost a child a couple of years ago, and her health had suffered greatly with, and rumors of her inability to have any more children, and it was speculated that the King wished to have the marriage between her and Prince Rhaegar annulled.
She scoffed as she thought of that. Like her father would ever do such a thing. The man had put an end to all such rumors quickly and had even asked her brother to give Elia time to recover properly before they tried for another child.
"Are you fine, Daenys?" the question from Elia broker her out of her trance and Daenys nodded at the Queen.
"Of course, I was just thinking about Father and how happy he would have been at the thought of having another grandchild," she said a little wistfully, and Elia's lips thinned as well, and she nodded.
"Indeed, he would have been delighted," said Elia. And silence came over them once more. And then Elia broke it once again.
"Have you given any thought to what we discussed about your marriage," questioned Elia, and Daenys groaned internally but nodded nonetheless. The Queen squeezed her hand in reassurance.
"I just want you to keep an open mind. No one here will ever force you into a match against your will but you have to get married one day," said Elia with a smile, and Daenys lips thinned as she replied.
"I just don't want to lose my freedoms. I don't want to become a broodmare for some entitled brat," Daenys complained, and Elia smiled as she said scandalously.
"So, you are calling me a broodmare," Daenys's shoulder slumped, and she shook her head.
"You know what I meant by that," she groaned, and Elia nodded.
"I was just making a joke. And I know what you mean. Father's relationship with mother was quite exemplary, if I say so myself, and me and Rhaegar try and replicate it as well. But you must consider that it was also your father who thought of pursuing a match between you and Jamie Lannister. He must have seen something in him to consider him even worthy of his princess," Elia assured her, and Daenys nodded.
"I know, but I am still afraid," she said, and Elia smiled forlornly.
"Did you know I felt the same way when I married your brother? I believe it is quite natural to be afraid. But we cannot let our fear rule over us," Elia spoke slowly before wincing in pain. Daenys immediately reached for her hand.
"Are you fine?" she questioned, and Elia nodded, her brows still scrunched in pain.
"It will be fine," yet the relief never came, and suddenly Elia began to scream in pain, making Daenys heart thump with worry. At the Queen's cry, the Castle guards rushed towards them, led by Ser Gerold.
"AGH!" Elia screamed in pain, and Daenys could only hold her hand before her eyes widened as she saw her dress becoming wet, and realization dawned on her, and she immediately screamed.
"GET THE MAESTERS! THE QUEEN'S WATER HAS BROKEN!"
0000
AEMON TARGARYEN
Aemon Targaryen sat in his solar, dreading the conversation he was about to have with the man sitting opposite him. The Quiet Wolf of the North, Eddard Stark, was nearly as imposing as his father Rickard Stark.
The man had the symbolic brown Stark hair along with those striking grey eyes. The man had traversed the lands across the Wall on the orders of his brother, though one could say it had actually been his father's orders.
"So, Lord Eddard, I believe there is no time to waste, so why don't we skip straight to the topic" began Aemon, and the man nodded.
"So, was my father right," said Aemon, and Eddard Stark nodded slowly.
"He was, my prince. The Freefolks confirmed everything he told us," said the man, and then he reached into his pocket and took out a scroll.
"And regarding that, my brother has written this missive to the Crown asking for permission regarding various matters," and Aemon nodded as he took the missive and opened it. And though he had the authority to deal with it, with his brother barely hours from the capital, it would be better to leave it all up to him.
"The King is set to return today, and he will deal with this. Moving on, I believe you have something of my family in your possession," said Aemon, and Eddard Stark nodded. The man slowly reached down and placed a clothed object on his desk.
Aemon's heart shook as he saw the clothed object, and then with quivering fingers, he took off the cloth covering the object. He gasped as he saw the object lying there. It was a sword. It was their sword, one of the ancestral swords of House Targaryen.
"Dark Sister!' he gasped as he held up the legendary blade, and the very blade gleamed in joy as he picked it up.
"We found it stuck in the ground, near a giant weir wood tree just as the King instructed," spoke Eddard and Aemon nodded, his mind questioning just how did his father know about its location. And now, with his demise, he couldn't even question the man.
The sword was like a gift from him.
"The Crown thanks you for your service and will bestow an appropriate reward onto you, Lord Eddard," spoke Aemon, and Eddard Stark nodded.
"The Starks of Winterfell are at your service, my prince," said the man, and then just as Aemon was about to speak up there was a knock on the doors.
Aemon gently wrapped the sword in cloth once more, and placed it under the desk, before he spoke up.
"Come in," he said, and the doors swung open to reveal the form of Ser Gerold, and the man had a rather big smile on his face.
"My prince, your mother is summoning you to the Queen's chambers," and Aemon frowned, yet stood up nonetheless.
"What has happened?" he questioned as he rushed towards the commander of the Kingsguard and the man smiled and spoke up.
"The Gods have blessed your brother, with a son," came the reply, and relief ran through his body at those words. Eddard Stark had joined him as well. Aemon looked back toward the man and, with a sheepish smile, spoke up.
"I believe I must cut our meeting short, Lord Eddard," and the man shook his head and simply bowed.
"As you say, my prince," said the man, and then Aemon rushed out of his solar and rushed towards the Queen's chambers.
0000
RHAEGAR TARGARYEN
Rhaegar Targaryen raced past the streets of Kinglanding, the familiar streets of the City helped ease his heart from the perils of the war he had just fought. Under normal circumstances, there would have been a Victory march in the City, yet the circumstances were anything but normal.
The people parted ways and broke out in cheers, as soon as they saw his horse racing down the streets. The Castle gates were opened and the guards blew the horns indicating his arrival The Royal guards bustled and formed two lines around the gates.
He galloped past the gates and rushed towards the main gate of the Red Keep. He pulled the reins of his horse and came to a halt in front of a small retinue standing outside the gates to welcome him. Aemon led them as he stood there dressed in a black tunic, with a massive smile on his face.
Rhaegar jumped off his horse, rushed towards his brother, and crushed him in a hug, as the two brothers finally met after all this time. And suddenly, Aemon whispered quietly in his ears.
"I believe congratulations are in order, Rhaegar," and Rhaegar's heart skipped a beat as he separated and looked at Aemon, who nodded and confirmed his suspicion.
"The Queen has given birth to a healthy babe. The Gods have blessed you with another son," said Aemon, and Rhaegar's lips thinned, and he barely exchanged greetings with the Lords accompanying his brother before he rushed past them, his steps brisk and quick as he rushed towards the Queen's chambers.
There was a sense of joy and jubilation in the castle, and the servants congratulated him as he rushed past them. He finally reached the Queen's chambers and, after a deep breath, walked in slowly, and there in the bed lay his wife, her hair messy and sweaty. Yet there was a smile on her face as she leaned to the side and continued to coo at the small bundle resting in the hands of his mother.
To her other side sat Daenys, who was the first one to look up at him before she rushed forwards and lept at him.
"Brother, you are back!" she said, and Rhaegar nodded as he held his sister tightly, and he didn't miss how she had become taller over the time he had gone. The two of them hugged each other before he slowly walked toward Elia and his mother.
Elia smiled at him, and as he came closer, his mother gently passed his son to him.
"He takes after you," said his mother with a smile. And Rhaegar's heart thumped as he held his child, and felt his eyes wet. The babe had a small tuft of silvery blonde hair and the symbolic amethyst Targaryen eyes.
"Have you decided on a name?" he questioned slowly, his voice quivering, and Elia nodded before she looked toward his mother.
"I have, and with mother's permission, I would like to name him Aerys, in honor of father," said Elia and Rhaegar looked towards his mother, whose eyes had become red. Her lips quivered before she slowly nodded her head, and her eyes landed on the child in his arm once more.
"Prince Aerys Targaryen," she said with a smile, giving her permission, and Rhaegar smiled and gently kissed his son, Aerys.
"You should go and rest Rhaegar," his mother said gently from the side before turning to face Elia," and Elia, you as well. I will take care of the babe," she said as she gestured for him to hand her the babe. And just as he was about to protest her mother's eyes narrowed as she gently teased him.
"He will be fine with me Rhaegar, after all, I did raise three children myself," retorted his mother making Elia break out in a small laugh. Rhaegar handed her his son, reluctantly. And then with a nod towards Elia, his mother began to walk out of the room.
"All right, you should rest, and then we can finally have a talk afterward," and with those words, his mother left the room. Leaving him alone with Elia, Rhaegar sat down on the side of her bed and kissed his wife. Those lips felt like heaven after all these months of separation, and they both lost each other like that before they finally separated, both huffing for breath.
"It is good to have you back, Rhaegar," said Elia as she squeezed her hand. And Rhaegar nodded.
"It is good to be back as well."
0000
As always, you can read ahead and support me on Pa-tre 0n. Your support makes it possible for me to write. So, if possible, have a look and consider dropping a dime if possible. It would mean a lot to me.
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Thanks for reading!
ThunderBasilisk
Well Worn Bastion
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- Mar 23, 2020
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Double posted? Anyway great chapter. Glad this has a bit of light in this mess.
ATP
Well worn.
- Joined
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Agree.It would be nice,if Ned meet children,too.Becouse voyage to meet three eye raven would be too risky.
P.S Who is Ned waifu here,if he have any? Ashara?
Chapter 17
Zeld
I trust you know where the happy button is?
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Chapter 17
The death of Oberyn Martell would shock Queen Elia Martell, and she would be wroth with everyone in Kingslanding, for they had kept the news from her for weeks. She was greatly saddened by the death of her brother, whom she loved a lot, but the Royal family's decision would prove right and the newborn Prince would provide her much solace after such tragedy.
With King Rhaegar back in the capital, he would once more take control over the running of the Kingdoms. Yet he had not returned alone from his campaign and was accompanied by Ser Jamie Lannister, the heir to Casterly Rock. Ser Jamie would have to go through quite serious vetting rounds before being allowed to meet King Aerys's darling daughter, Princess Daenys.
On the other side of the Narrow Sea, Brynden Tully's Dark Knights would lay siege to Lys to root out the Blackfyre pretenders, and the siege would be broken later with many of the instigators escaping to Tyrosh to seek refuge, a mistake which would prove quite fatal to the Blackfyre cause for as soon as they would land there a massive force from Highgarden would attack the city.
Until this point, the Targaryen regime had fought on the metaphoric 'backfoot' in this war. This would be their first effective offensive and would prove devastating. The new ships designed and commissioned under King Aerys's regime would prove their worth and give the Targaryen dynasty naval superiority, which would last for hundreds of years.
Yet despite everything he had already done, King Aerys wasn't quite done yet. The departed King still had a final gift for his three children. Something which had cost the man his life, yet this gift would change the landscape of the whole world.
0000
RHAEGAR TARGARYEN
Rhaegar Targaryen sat in his father's solar. Though it was now his solar yet, even now, he hesitated in calling it his own. Yet already, he could point out the differences in the room from the time of his father. He sighed as he looked at the pile of documents sitting there at his desk and groaned in frustration.
He would never miss this, and he was thankful to Aemon, who had thinned the pile so much, for he knew otherwise the stack was to be at least thrice of what it was. Even now, Aemon sat opposite to him, going over a set of documents trying to help him. In the end, Rhaegar decided to ignore the pile sitting in front of him to focus on an entirely different topic.
"So, Aemon, have you given it any thought?" his younger brother didn't look up and simply replied.
"Given what thought?" Rhaegar rolled his eyes as he lightly tapped his table.
"You know, marriage. You are older than Daenys. Don't you think it is time you settled down," he spoke up, and Aemon stilled a bit before he sighed and put down the paper in his hand.
"There is a war going on, Rhaegar. Do you really think this is the best time to get married," Aemon tried to wiggle out as he always had, and Rhaegar just looked at him.
"Of course, there is no proper time to get married, and you must do it. So, tell me, have you given it any thought? I distinctly remember Father giving you a choice to make before you went to Pentosh," and he saw Aemon groan at his words.
"Aghh, do we really have to do this? Plus, shouldn't you be more focused on Daenys and her prospective husband," Aemon remarked, and he was right.
"I would be, but Elia has taken over that matter. The Queen and her ladies-in-waiting are vetting Jamie Lannister. I trust them with this," and he saw Aemon wince at those words. Daenys was the baby of their family. The whole family doted on her a lot, and Elia had taken command over this, and she and her friends were vetting the poor lad.
"May the Gods bless him, though is he talking to you again? Mother told me that she was angry with you because of the whole Oberyn Thing," said Aemon, and Rahegar shook his head slowly.
"Not yet, but she told me that this was between her and Daenys, and my mistake had no bearing on her relationship with Daenys," it was just one of the things he liked about Elia. There was hardly anyone more dutiful than her in the Kingdoms apart from his own mother, of course.
"Don't think I cannot see what you are doing. This is about you, not me. So tell me which one you have chosen, Laena Velaryon or Janne Tyrell," Rhaegar questioned Aemon, who sighed before speaking up.
"Though they are both fine ladies, I don't think we would make a good match. I had a different name in mind, actually," remarked his brother surprising him. And Rhaegar wasn't going to deny his brother a chance to choose his own match.
"You have met Eddard Stark, right," remarked Aemon, and Rhaegar nodded, not knowing where he was going with this.
"He came to the capital with a small retinue, a retinue which also included his sister," and Rhaegar finally understood where this was going. He didn't miss the small smile on his brother's face as he continued.
"She wasn't supposed to come, but she dressed up as a knight and followed him to the capital somehow," added Aemon with a small laugh, and Rhaegar was impressed as well by the audacity of the lady.
"What's her name?" he asked so that he could have one more discussion with Eddard Stark. Perhaps it was time that the House Stark had a royal match.
"Lyanna. Her name is Lyanna Stark," replied Aemon with a small smile. And Rhaegar nodded.
"I will talk to Mother. We shall see just who is this Lyanna Stark to have my brother besotted with her like this," said Rahegar as he wiggled his eyes at his brother, who just groaned.
"Aghh, don't make a deal of this, Rhaegar. Maybe the Starks have already promised her hand to someone else," said Aemon with a desponded shrug, and Rhaegar gave his brother a look.
"We shall see about that!"
0000
VARYS- Daemon Blackyre
Varys cursed those wretched Targaryens as he watched the armed men patrolling the streets below. The men belonged to one of the newer mercenary groups called Black Knights, and had joined forces with other smaller groups to attack Lys.
Tensions were high in Lys, and various benefactors from the City had pulled out, thinking that Myr or Tyrsoh had betrayed them. Though he knew the truth, neither Myr nor Tyrosh had hired them. No, it was the Targaryens.
The Black Knights were highly organized, and the whole company was fitted with very good equipment. This showed that they had a very rich backer. Their commander was the infamous Black Fish of Riverrun, and all this pointed out that the company's anonymous backer was the Targaryen Crown.
He closed the curtains and began to pace in his room once again. His sister sat there seething with rage and worry as they sat there trapped in Lys.
He finally broke the silence as he looked towards Saera.
"We have to get out of here if this continues. It will not be long before we are found out. We need to move tonight," he said, and Saera's lips thinned.
"How? They are continuously patrolling the streets. How will we even make it out, and where are we even supposed to go!" she growled.
"Tyrosh." He replied quickly, and she nodded, knowing that he was right. They couldn't stay here. His mind raced as he began to formulate a plan. And then it all clicked into place.
"I think I have just the idea," he spoke, and Saera frowned.
"What?" she questioned as he took the seat opposite to her.
"I believe it is time that those who betrayed us learn that treachery has its own cost. We still have some of the Wild Fire stacked in the basement. It is time they paid that cost," he said with a smile, and Saera nodded.
This was the last batch of wildfire they had, and he had been saving it up for the assault on Kingslanding, yet there was little time to think about the future now, especially with their very lives hanging in flux.
"But how will you set it all up? They are continuously patrolling the city," questioned Saera showing concern for him. And he just smirked.
"You don't have to worry about that. I know the streets of Lys like the back of my hand. You just get ready and wait for my signal." And she nodded. With that, he left the room and began to make his way to the basement.
0000
DAENYS TARGARYEN
Her whole family stood there as the servants prepared everything for their father's funeral. It was a simple ceremony with only the four of them present, as they conducted the final rites of their father according to his wishes.
Aemon stood by her side, holding her hand as Qyburn ordered his servants to place the dragon eggs below beside the wooden casket.
"Are those the eggs that you bought from that Pentoshi merchant," she asked, and Aemon nodded.
"Yes, they are," and Daenys frowned as she saw them place them near their father's casket. She had gotten to look at them herself; they were solid like stone, yet they were hot to touch. Their mother had ordered them to be placed in a pyre for some reason. And they hadn't questioned her, much like they didn't question her when she told them of their father's plan for his funeral.
"She is hiding something," she whispered to Aemon as her eyes landed on her mother, who was conversing with Qyburn in a hushed tone by the side.
"I know, and I think we all have a pretty good idea what that is," came the reply from behind, and she looked back to find Rhaegar joining them. And she frowned because she didn't know what they were talking about.
She looked up at Aemon, who had a look of understanding in his eyes, and she frowned.
"I don't know what she is planning. Tell me," she said rather impatiently. Aemon's lips turned upward, and he shook his head.
Rhaegar sighed as he gave Aemon a small nod before beginning.
"I think you must remember how Father always lamented the end of dragons after the tragedy of the Dance," Rhaegar began, and she nodded. It was one of the topics that got their father heated. Though unlike most of the realm, their father laid the blame on Jaeherys Targaryen and considered the am responsible for what he called 'the greatest tragedy for their House.'
And then suddenly, it all clicked as her head snapped towards the dragon eggs.
"It cannot be!" she gasped as she connected all the dots.
"He is trying to revive the dragons!" she finished as she looked at Rhaegar, and her brother nodded as well.
"Father had a theory that the Targaryen family hid the secret to the revival of dragons in open sight. Their own words," he added, and it all clicked into place.
"Fire and Blood!" she gasped as she saw the arrangement. And then she saw their mother walk towards them with Qyburn right behind them, his servants bringing the eggs with him.
"The ceremony requires some of your blood as well. Just a few drops will do," said their mother, and all three of them looked at each other with a small nod from Rhaegar. They each picked the small blade and made a small cut on their forearm, and let their blood drip onto each of the eggs.
The eggs were so hot that their blood sizzled upon contact, and then with a small nod, the thing ex-master walked back with the eggs and placed them near their father's casket once more.
Their mother joined them, and Daenys couldn't stop herself and blurted out.
"Are we trying to make those eggs hatch," she saw her mother still for a moment before she gave her a slight nod.
"But what about the tragedy of Summer Hall? Don't you think it's too dangerous," and she saw her mother go pale at those words. And Daenys didn't miss how her hands shook slightly before she slowly replied.
"This nothing like that time. I am quite aware of what happened at Summer Hall, which is nothing like this. Just please trust me on this," said their mother. And Daenys sighed as the three of them joined her and stood by her.
They had all already paid their respects, and with a final glance, their mother spoke up.
"Is everything ready?" Qyburn, the thin man their father had recruited out of the Citadel, nodded.
"Everything is ready, your grace," and then their mother nodded.
"Then let us begin!"
And with that, the man finally walked towards the wooden platform and took a lit torch from one of his servants, and for some reason, Daenys felt her heart thump in her chest. And then, as the ex-maester lit the platform on fire with his torch, she felt a soft loving touch on her shoulder.
"Goodbye, my little dragon princess," came the slight whisper in the loving tone of her father. Yet when she looked back, she found no one there.
Suddenly he felt fingers brush across her cheeks and looked up to find her mother wiping away her tears.
"It will be fine, my dear!" and she nodded as she wiped away her tears and looked ahead as the fire consumed the whole platform.
The fire raged, and the flames rose viciously as they devoured wood and flesh. The whole courtyard was filled with silence, and only the sound of crackling fire lingered around them.
CRACK!
Until she heard a crack. She stilled, and her heart nearly gave out. She thought that she might have been hallucinating, yet her doubts were cleared up when she heard the sound again. This time it was much louder and clearer.
"It cannot be…" she whispered as she saw shadows wriggle in the flames. She stepped forward instinctively, with her brothers right behind her, as they slowly approached the burning pyre.
And with each step, her heart thumped louder as the sound of cracks and the movement of shadows in the massive pyre intensified.
And just as they were mere steps away from the pyre, three small lizard-like creatures stepped out of the massive pyre. Their coloring was different, with two being of a darker hue while the one in front had pale yellowish skin, and they were even smaller than a cat.
Yet none would mistake what they were, especially with their small wings and the shiny scales that covered their body.
The yellowish one struggled to stand on its feet before it suddenly looked up. His eyes were amethyst, much like her own, and had slits in them like a snake.
She sat down and put forward her hand, and the little creature sniffed it and looked into her eyes before it slowly stepped into her hand. It was hot, and nearly burning, yet for some reason, he didn't want to let it go.
She held it in her arms and looked around to find her brother holding their own creatures in their hands. Their eyes met, and then Rhaegar suddenly gulped and broke the hanging silence.
"He was right! He was god damn right!" he nearly shouted before they all turned around to face their mother, who simply stood there, tears flowing down her cheeks as she looked at them with sheer pride.
"But how? How did he know about this?" she questioned as she looked into her mother's eyes. She saw her lips thin as she glanced at the three of them. Her brother's eyes held a similar question in their gaze, and their mother sighed and, with a broken smile, gave them the answer to their question.
"I believe you already have your suspicions, and they are right," said their mother slowly, and Daenys gulped as she readied herself for her next words.
"Your father was blessed with the same gift as your namesake from history, Daenys," and of course, she knew who that was.
Daenys, the Dreamer, had been named after her. The woman who had saved the Targaryen from the Doom.
"Your father was a dreamer!"
0000
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The death of Oberyn Martell would shock Queen Elia Martell, and she would be wroth with everyone in Kingslanding, for they had kept the news from her for weeks. She was greatly saddened by the death of her brother, whom she loved a lot, but the Royal family's decision would prove right and the newborn Prince would provide her much solace after such tragedy.
With King Rhaegar back in the capital, he would once more take control over the running of the Kingdoms. Yet he had not returned alone from his campaign and was accompanied by Ser Jamie Lannister, the heir to Casterly Rock. Ser Jamie would have to go through quite serious vetting rounds before being allowed to meet King Aerys's darling daughter, Princess Daenys.
On the other side of the Narrow Sea, Brynden Tully's Dark Knights would lay siege to Lys to root out the Blackfyre pretenders, and the siege would be broken later with many of the instigators escaping to Tyrosh to seek refuge, a mistake which would prove quite fatal to the Blackfyre cause for as soon as they would land there a massive force from Highgarden would attack the city.
Until this point, the Targaryen regime had fought on the metaphoric 'backfoot' in this war. This would be their first effective offensive and would prove devastating. The new ships designed and commissioned under King Aerys's regime would prove their worth and give the Targaryen dynasty naval superiority, which would last for hundreds of years.
Yet despite everything he had already done, King Aerys wasn't quite done yet. The departed King still had a final gift for his three children. Something which had cost the man his life, yet this gift would change the landscape of the whole world.
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RHAEGAR TARGARYEN
Rhaegar Targaryen sat in his father's solar. Though it was now his solar yet, even now, he hesitated in calling it his own. Yet already, he could point out the differences in the room from the time of his father. He sighed as he looked at the pile of documents sitting there at his desk and groaned in frustration.
He would never miss this, and he was thankful to Aemon, who had thinned the pile so much, for he knew otherwise the stack was to be at least thrice of what it was. Even now, Aemon sat opposite to him, going over a set of documents trying to help him. In the end, Rhaegar decided to ignore the pile sitting in front of him to focus on an entirely different topic.
"So, Aemon, have you given it any thought?" his younger brother didn't look up and simply replied.
"Given what thought?" Rhaegar rolled his eyes as he lightly tapped his table.
"You know, marriage. You are older than Daenys. Don't you think it is time you settled down," he spoke up, and Aemon stilled a bit before he sighed and put down the paper in his hand.
"There is a war going on, Rhaegar. Do you really think this is the best time to get married," Aemon tried to wiggle out as he always had, and Rhaegar just looked at him.
"Of course, there is no proper time to get married, and you must do it. So, tell me, have you given it any thought? I distinctly remember Father giving you a choice to make before you went to Pentosh," and he saw Aemon groan at his words.
"Aghh, do we really have to do this? Plus, shouldn't you be more focused on Daenys and her prospective husband," Aemon remarked, and he was right.
"I would be, but Elia has taken over that matter. The Queen and her ladies-in-waiting are vetting Jamie Lannister. I trust them with this," and he saw Aemon wince at those words. Daenys was the baby of their family. The whole family doted on her a lot, and Elia had taken command over this, and she and her friends were vetting the poor lad.
"May the Gods bless him, though is he talking to you again? Mother told me that she was angry with you because of the whole Oberyn Thing," said Aemon, and Rahegar shook his head slowly.
"Not yet, but she told me that this was between her and Daenys, and my mistake had no bearing on her relationship with Daenys," it was just one of the things he liked about Elia. There was hardly anyone more dutiful than her in the Kingdoms apart from his own mother, of course.
"Don't think I cannot see what you are doing. This is about you, not me. So tell me which one you have chosen, Laena Velaryon or Janne Tyrell," Rhaegar questioned Aemon, who sighed before speaking up.
"Though they are both fine ladies, I don't think we would make a good match. I had a different name in mind, actually," remarked his brother surprising him. And Rhaegar wasn't going to deny his brother a chance to choose his own match.
"You have met Eddard Stark, right," remarked Aemon, and Rhaegar nodded, not knowing where he was going with this.
"He came to the capital with a small retinue, a retinue which also included his sister," and Rhaegar finally understood where this was going. He didn't miss the small smile on his brother's face as he continued.
"She wasn't supposed to come, but she dressed up as a knight and followed him to the capital somehow," added Aemon with a small laugh, and Rhaegar was impressed as well by the audacity of the lady.
"What's her name?" he asked so that he could have one more discussion with Eddard Stark. Perhaps it was time that the House Stark had a royal match.
"Lyanna. Her name is Lyanna Stark," replied Aemon with a small smile. And Rhaegar nodded.
"I will talk to Mother. We shall see just who is this Lyanna Stark to have my brother besotted with her like this," said Rahegar as he wiggled his eyes at his brother, who just groaned.
"Aghh, don't make a deal of this, Rhaegar. Maybe the Starks have already promised her hand to someone else," said Aemon with a desponded shrug, and Rhaegar gave his brother a look.
"We shall see about that!"
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VARYS- Daemon Blackyre
Varys cursed those wretched Targaryens as he watched the armed men patrolling the streets below. The men belonged to one of the newer mercenary groups called Black Knights, and had joined forces with other smaller groups to attack Lys.
Tensions were high in Lys, and various benefactors from the City had pulled out, thinking that Myr or Tyrsoh had betrayed them. Though he knew the truth, neither Myr nor Tyrosh had hired them. No, it was the Targaryens.
The Black Knights were highly organized, and the whole company was fitted with very good equipment. This showed that they had a very rich backer. Their commander was the infamous Black Fish of Riverrun, and all this pointed out that the company's anonymous backer was the Targaryen Crown.
He closed the curtains and began to pace in his room once again. His sister sat there seething with rage and worry as they sat there trapped in Lys.
He finally broke the silence as he looked towards Saera.
"We have to get out of here if this continues. It will not be long before we are found out. We need to move tonight," he said, and Saera's lips thinned.
"How? They are continuously patrolling the streets. How will we even make it out, and where are we even supposed to go!" she growled.
"Tyrosh." He replied quickly, and she nodded, knowing that he was right. They couldn't stay here. His mind raced as he began to formulate a plan. And then it all clicked into place.
"I think I have just the idea," he spoke, and Saera frowned.
"What?" she questioned as he took the seat opposite to her.
"I believe it is time that those who betrayed us learn that treachery has its own cost. We still have some of the Wild Fire stacked in the basement. It is time they paid that cost," he said with a smile, and Saera nodded.
This was the last batch of wildfire they had, and he had been saving it up for the assault on Kingslanding, yet there was little time to think about the future now, especially with their very lives hanging in flux.
"But how will you set it all up? They are continuously patrolling the city," questioned Saera showing concern for him. And he just smirked.
"You don't have to worry about that. I know the streets of Lys like the back of my hand. You just get ready and wait for my signal." And she nodded. With that, he left the room and began to make his way to the basement.
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DAENYS TARGARYEN
Her whole family stood there as the servants prepared everything for their father's funeral. It was a simple ceremony with only the four of them present, as they conducted the final rites of their father according to his wishes.
Aemon stood by her side, holding her hand as Qyburn ordered his servants to place the dragon eggs below beside the wooden casket.
"Are those the eggs that you bought from that Pentoshi merchant," she asked, and Aemon nodded.
"Yes, they are," and Daenys frowned as she saw them place them near their father's casket. She had gotten to look at them herself; they were solid like stone, yet they were hot to touch. Their mother had ordered them to be placed in a pyre for some reason. And they hadn't questioned her, much like they didn't question her when she told them of their father's plan for his funeral.
"She is hiding something," she whispered to Aemon as her eyes landed on her mother, who was conversing with Qyburn in a hushed tone by the side.
"I know, and I think we all have a pretty good idea what that is," came the reply from behind, and she looked back to find Rhaegar joining them. And she frowned because she didn't know what they were talking about.
She looked up at Aemon, who had a look of understanding in his eyes, and she frowned.
"I don't know what she is planning. Tell me," she said rather impatiently. Aemon's lips turned upward, and he shook his head.
Rhaegar sighed as he gave Aemon a small nod before beginning.
"I think you must remember how Father always lamented the end of dragons after the tragedy of the Dance," Rhaegar began, and she nodded. It was one of the topics that got their father heated. Though unlike most of the realm, their father laid the blame on Jaeherys Targaryen and considered the am responsible for what he called 'the greatest tragedy for their House.'
And then suddenly, it all clicked as her head snapped towards the dragon eggs.
"It cannot be!" she gasped as she connected all the dots.
"He is trying to revive the dragons!" she finished as she looked at Rhaegar, and her brother nodded as well.
"Father had a theory that the Targaryen family hid the secret to the revival of dragons in open sight. Their own words," he added, and it all clicked into place.
"Fire and Blood!" she gasped as she saw the arrangement. And then she saw their mother walk towards them with Qyburn right behind them, his servants bringing the eggs with him.
"The ceremony requires some of your blood as well. Just a few drops will do," said their mother, and all three of them looked at each other with a small nod from Rhaegar. They each picked the small blade and made a small cut on their forearm, and let their blood drip onto each of the eggs.
The eggs were so hot that their blood sizzled upon contact, and then with a small nod, the thing ex-master walked back with the eggs and placed them near their father's casket once more.
Their mother joined them, and Daenys couldn't stop herself and blurted out.
"Are we trying to make those eggs hatch," she saw her mother still for a moment before she gave her a slight nod.
"But what about the tragedy of Summer Hall? Don't you think it's too dangerous," and she saw her mother go pale at those words. And Daenys didn't miss how her hands shook slightly before she slowly replied.
"This nothing like that time. I am quite aware of what happened at Summer Hall, which is nothing like this. Just please trust me on this," said their mother. And Daenys sighed as the three of them joined her and stood by her.
They had all already paid their respects, and with a final glance, their mother spoke up.
"Is everything ready?" Qyburn, the thin man their father had recruited out of the Citadel, nodded.
"Everything is ready, your grace," and then their mother nodded.
"Then let us begin!"
And with that, the man finally walked towards the wooden platform and took a lit torch from one of his servants, and for some reason, Daenys felt her heart thump in her chest. And then, as the ex-maester lit the platform on fire with his torch, she felt a soft loving touch on her shoulder.
"Goodbye, my little dragon princess," came the slight whisper in the loving tone of her father. Yet when she looked back, she found no one there.
Suddenly he felt fingers brush across her cheeks and looked up to find her mother wiping away her tears.
"It will be fine, my dear!" and she nodded as she wiped away her tears and looked ahead as the fire consumed the whole platform.
The fire raged, and the flames rose viciously as they devoured wood and flesh. The whole courtyard was filled with silence, and only the sound of crackling fire lingered around them.
CRACK!
Until she heard a crack. She stilled, and her heart nearly gave out. She thought that she might have been hallucinating, yet her doubts were cleared up when she heard the sound again. This time it was much louder and clearer.
"It cannot be…" she whispered as she saw shadows wriggle in the flames. She stepped forward instinctively, with her brothers right behind her, as they slowly approached the burning pyre.
And with each step, her heart thumped louder as the sound of cracks and the movement of shadows in the massive pyre intensified.
And just as they were mere steps away from the pyre, three small lizard-like creatures stepped out of the massive pyre. Their coloring was different, with two being of a darker hue while the one in front had pale yellowish skin, and they were even smaller than a cat.
Yet none would mistake what they were, especially with their small wings and the shiny scales that covered their body.
The yellowish one struggled to stand on its feet before it suddenly looked up. His eyes were amethyst, much like her own, and had slits in them like a snake.
She sat down and put forward her hand, and the little creature sniffed it and looked into her eyes before it slowly stepped into her hand. It was hot, and nearly burning, yet for some reason, he didn't want to let it go.
She held it in her arms and looked around to find her brother holding their own creatures in their hands. Their eyes met, and then Rhaegar suddenly gulped and broke the hanging silence.
"He was right! He was god damn right!" he nearly shouted before they all turned around to face their mother, who simply stood there, tears flowing down her cheeks as she looked at them with sheer pride.
"But how? How did he know about this?" she questioned as she looked into her mother's eyes. She saw her lips thin as she glanced at the three of them. Her brother's eyes held a similar question in their gaze, and their mother sighed and, with a broken smile, gave them the answer to their question.
"I believe you already have your suspicions, and they are right," said their mother slowly, and Daenys gulped as she readied herself for her next words.
"Your father was blessed with the same gift as your namesake from history, Daenys," and of course, she knew who that was.
Daenys, the Dreamer, had been named after her. The woman who had saved the Targaryen from the Doom.
"Your father was a dreamer!"
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ThunderBasilisk
Well Worn Bastion
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Dragons get! Hopefully these live longer than the canon versions.
Chapter 18
Zeld
I trust you know where the happy button is?
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Chapter 18
Dragons. The mythical beast that allowed Valyria to rule the world, and then after Doom, allowed the House of Targaryen to forge the savage lands of Westeros into a single unified Kingdom. They were the symbol of power for House Targaryen even a century after Aegon's conquest.
Yet the Dance took them away from the world. For two hundred years after the Dance, the Targaryen family continued to revive these beasts in order to regain their symbol of power, yet they didn't succeed. It was one of these very attempts that brought the Targaryen family to near extinction due to the tragedy of Summer Hall.
Yet where his ancestors failed, King Aerys Targaryen succeeded. In the funeral pyre of the greatest King of Westeros, three dragon eggs hatched, bringing back the mythical beasts that once allowed Aegon the Conqueror to forge the seven kingdoms as one.
The rebirth of the Dragons was nothing short of a miracle. And historians consider it rather fortunate that the Dragon Pit had begun its reconstruction just a few years prior to this and had been modified and expanded with an open structure to allow dragons to fly out with ease.
With the dragons, the House Targaryen regained much, yet there was always a lingering fear that the Royal House would fall prey to its hubris once again, and there could be a repeat of the tragedy that once burnt half the Kingdom. A valid fear, especially with the amount of power the Royal family possessed at the time. King Aerys was aware of that and, in his death, gave his children another partying gift which we today call the 'Dragon Rider Edict.'
These documents had remained classified until now and had become public only half a decade ago when the Royal family chose to disclose the contents of the diaries of King Rhaegar and Princess Daenys.
Even today, the Royal family is said to hold a number of frozen dragon eggs, according to some rumors, and have provisions in the law to try and hatch them in case of any emergency. Some even speculate that the Royal Family has a small herd of dragons on one of their private islands, yet these reports and rumors are without any substantial evidence.
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RHAELLA TARGARYEN
Rhaella Targaryen, the Queen dowager of the Seven Kingdoms, sat in her room with her three children surrounding her, the questions raging through their minds evident in their gazes as they sat there in pin-drop silence.
The three newborn dragons were under the care of Qyburn and the rudimentary dragon keepers that had been trained by the man in secret on her husband's orders. In the end, it was her eldest who broke the silence.
"Did you know?" he asked, and she saw all three of them look at her as she shook her head.
"No, though I had my suspicions," she began. After she had read over the diary Aerys had left her, she had pondered quite a bit over the past to look for hints and had berated herself for missing all the signs over the years. Though, Aerys deserved some credit for making it so difficult to spot his gift over the years, and now it was only in hindsight was she truly able to see the whole picture.
"Though you might not believe me, your father was quite different in his youth. He was loud, brash, and often given to fantasies of grandeur and majesty," and she chuckled slightly at that, for that was a quality he hadn't quite lost though his dreams had become much grounded, and his perseverance to make those dreams a reality had been quite a change.
"Even in those days, he spoke of rebuilding King landing and establishing an army and fleet, yet at that, they were nothing but words, and then the announcement of our marriage was made," she said somberly. She had been against the match initially, especially given the rumors about his debauchery.
"It was around this time that he changed," she spoke clearly as she recalled those days in her mind.
"He became quieter, somber, and much more mature. I believe this is when his reams began," she answered, and then it was her daughter who cut her off.
"But how can you be sure now? You said you suspected it, but how can you be sure now that he was a dreamer," asked daenys and Rhaella turned away from her daughter and picked up the diary from the table. The very diary Aerys had entrusted her with, a diary with his visions and ideas. Rhaella knew little of science and administration, yet even she could tell that this diary was a treasure trove for their family. The things written in there would have been called as ramblings of a madman, yet given all Aerys had accomplished in his reign of about thirty years, she was inclined to believe them to be true and if they were. She held the key to the very future of this world.
"This is your father's diary," she said, seeing all of them look at the thick book with a narrowed gaze.
"After his death, Ser Gerold took me to his room, and with a key Aerys had entrusted me in his life, I opened a hidden safe hidden in the room where I found this along with some other things," she began.
"WAIT!" suddenly, Rhaegar spoke up as he reached into his shirt, took out a key similar to hers, and raised it toward her.
"Was the key like this?" he questioned, and she nodded.
"Indeed, there were three keys in total. One was with Aerys, I had the second one and you had the last one, Rhaegar," she began, and the three of them were hanging on to her every word and casting curious glances at the diary.
"Aerys wrote this in case he ever died before he could finish his work. And he knew that buying those dragon eggs would jeopardize his life, so he wrote this diary so you all could have some sort of help in the future," and she saw Daenys's lips thin at those words.
"What! Then why the hell did he do it? Damn the dragons…" but before she could say anymore, Rhaegar held her hand.
"Please stop, Daenys. Please," he said, and the two brothers shared a look making Daenys frown.
"What are you hiding? We have an army and a whole freaking armada of ships. What was so important that he had to risk his life to get those eggs," spoke Daenys. Her sons looked towards her, and she gave them a nod, giving them permission to discuss the extinction-level threat humanity faced.
"There was a reason for this Daenys. A reason which only a handful of people know in the entire kingdom," began Rhaegar, slowly making Daenys frown.
"It is time you learn about project 'Dawn Break'," spoke Aemon as he stood up from his seat.
"Dawn Break? Are the two of them joking mother?" Daenys said with a frown and looked at her. Rhaella shook her head.
"They are telling the truth,"she said and Daenys looked at Rhaegar who continued.
"Do you remember the story of the Long night and the Night King father often told us when we were children," and Daenys nodded. Aerys had been fond of telling stories to his children.
"Isn't that a folk tale from the North?" questioned Daenys, her voice quivering.
"No, my dear sister. That folk tale is a lot more than just a tale. The Dark Night was real, and so was the Night King, and he is coming back with a whole army at his back."
And silence hung in the chambers as Daenys's eyes widened at those words. And then they talked about it all. In the end, it was all too much to process in a single sitting. So, they left her chambers after hours, all heading for the yard to process everything they had just heard.
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LYANNA STARK
Living in the North for her whole life, the capital had been quite a shock to her. For all its prosperity, Wintertown housed about fifty thousand people at most though she would venture that it was lower than that.
Coming to the capital had been a shock; Lyanna had been to White Harbor a couple of times and had thought the city a marvel with its packed streets, with merchants selling wares from across the world at every corner. Yet the Capital had been a completely different beast.
If White Harbor was packed, then the capital was nearly five times the number of people, with the city being about thrice as large as the behemoth that was Whit Harbor, with two sets of walls and a third set under construction. The capital was filled with people. The buildings rose high and touched the sky, and the streets were packed with goods from across the world.
The Red Keep itself was a magnificent castle, expanded by the previous King. The castle itself was surrounded by two sets of walls with expanded stables and a training yard. Speaking of the training yard, she found herself intrigued by the thundering noises coming from the yard and hence snuck out of her room to see what was going on.
There were actually two training yards. One was smaller, usually closed off to regular soldiers, and mainly sued by the Kingsgaurd and the Royal family. Benjen had shown it to her when they had arrived, knowing about her interests already. With each step, the sound of metal clashing and shouting got louder, and finally, she reached the balcony and found the source of all the noise.
Below in the yard, there were people sparring. People she recognized immediately. The King himself was present, his hair wet with sweat and grime as he parried a strike from his brother, Prince Aemon.
Lyanna herself had spent quite a bit of time in the yard and could tell that the two of them were quite skilled, and the way their swords blurred through the air, it was evident that they had danced like this for quite some time.
The King remained on the back foot, remaining relatively still as he dodged and parried the strikes from his brother, who was a flurry of activity. They continued to spar and she stood there watching their dance. They were both equally matched, and their spar ended with much less fanfare as the two of them simply stopped with a final nod, indicating a draw.
Much to her surprise, they hadn't missed her presence as she saw the King look towards her, and she stilled as those amethyst eyes landed on her.
"Lady Lyanna, it is good to see you," said King Rhaegar making her blush as she saw his skin through his shirt. Though thankfully, her mother's lessons kicked in instinctively as she curtsied.
"I apologize for intruding, your grace," she said slowly, yet the King waived away her apology.
"It is nothing. Please join us," he said, and she gulped as she began to walk down. Finally reaching the yard she saw the King and Prince Aemon approach them, as both of them wiped away the sweat.
"I believe it must be Ser Benjen who showed you this yard?" he asked, and she nodded, dread pooling in her heart at having gotten Benjen into trouble. It must have shown on her face because she heard the Prince chuckle as he began.
"Don't worry about your brother Princess. It was just a surprise to see someone other than our sister here," and she flushed in embarrassment, though before she could say anything, another set of footsteps interrupted them.
"Ok, Aemon, I am ready for our spar now," said the intruder. She looked up, and her eyes widened as she found Princess Daenys standing there, clad in training armor with a short sword in her hands.
Much like the rest of the Kingdom, she had heard that the Princess could wield a sword and that the King indulged his youngest daughter and allowed her to learn to wield a sword. Something she was quite jealous of since she had to bribe her brother for lessons herself.
The Prince looked at his sister, like this was all routine to them, before she felt his eyes land on her, and Lyanna couldn't help but get a bit lost in those amethyst eyes. The Targaryen were often said to be closer to Gods than to men, and it showed especially in their appearances. Their Valyrian roots made them all exceptionally beautiful.
And she found it all true, much like his brother the Prince was blessed with sharp features and his hair had grown longer and was tied with a band.
"I believe your Benjen mentioned that you used to train with a sword yourself, my lady," the Prince asked and Lyanna cursed Benjen in her heart for spilling her secrets to the Prince. Yet, in the end, she nodded slowly. After all there was no point in lying now, giver her own brother had ratted her out.
"Yes, my prince. I used to bribe him and Ned for some lessons," she said a bit louder than normal, hiding away her embarrassment. The Prince chuckled, and she felt her heartbeat fasten at that roguish smile before he spoke slowly.
"Ahh that reminds me of someone in my own family," the Prince teased the Princess who looked away haughtily.
"I refuse to acknowledge all such allegations," said the Princess, and Lyanna found the relationship between the Targaryen siblings similar to what she and her siblings had.
"I believe we should do things a bit differently today, perhaps instead of me you would be amenable to facing Lady Lyanna in the yard," began the Prince and her eyes widened at those words.
"Of course, if the Lady agrees," he added suddenly and he found Princess Daenys looking at her with a complex gaze, her lips turned up as she cast a glance at her brother.
Lyanna could only look and shake her head.
"I would be honored to Princess, but I lack any armor or equipment for this," she said and the Princess smirked and took her by the arm.
"Oh, don't worry about that. We have spare equipment and clothes in the room. Come let me show you," and with that, she was dragged out of the yard to an adjacent room A single thought ran in her mind.
'Ned is going to kill me!'
0000
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Dragons. The mythical beast that allowed Valyria to rule the world, and then after Doom, allowed the House of Targaryen to forge the savage lands of Westeros into a single unified Kingdom. They were the symbol of power for House Targaryen even a century after Aegon's conquest.
Yet the Dance took them away from the world. For two hundred years after the Dance, the Targaryen family continued to revive these beasts in order to regain their symbol of power, yet they didn't succeed. It was one of these very attempts that brought the Targaryen family to near extinction due to the tragedy of Summer Hall.
Yet where his ancestors failed, King Aerys Targaryen succeeded. In the funeral pyre of the greatest King of Westeros, three dragon eggs hatched, bringing back the mythical beasts that once allowed Aegon the Conqueror to forge the seven kingdoms as one.
The rebirth of the Dragons was nothing short of a miracle. And historians consider it rather fortunate that the Dragon Pit had begun its reconstruction just a few years prior to this and had been modified and expanded with an open structure to allow dragons to fly out with ease.
With the dragons, the House Targaryen regained much, yet there was always a lingering fear that the Royal House would fall prey to its hubris once again, and there could be a repeat of the tragedy that once burnt half the Kingdom. A valid fear, especially with the amount of power the Royal family possessed at the time. King Aerys was aware of that and, in his death, gave his children another partying gift which we today call the 'Dragon Rider Edict.'
These documents had remained classified until now and had become public only half a decade ago when the Royal family chose to disclose the contents of the diaries of King Rhaegar and Princess Daenys.
Even today, the Royal family is said to hold a number of frozen dragon eggs, according to some rumors, and have provisions in the law to try and hatch them in case of any emergency. Some even speculate that the Royal Family has a small herd of dragons on one of their private islands, yet these reports and rumors are without any substantial evidence.
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RHAELLA TARGARYEN
Rhaella Targaryen, the Queen dowager of the Seven Kingdoms, sat in her room with her three children surrounding her, the questions raging through their minds evident in their gazes as they sat there in pin-drop silence.
The three newborn dragons were under the care of Qyburn and the rudimentary dragon keepers that had been trained by the man in secret on her husband's orders. In the end, it was her eldest who broke the silence.
"Did you know?" he asked, and she saw all three of them look at her as she shook her head.
"No, though I had my suspicions," she began. After she had read over the diary Aerys had left her, she had pondered quite a bit over the past to look for hints and had berated herself for missing all the signs over the years. Though, Aerys deserved some credit for making it so difficult to spot his gift over the years, and now it was only in hindsight was she truly able to see the whole picture.
"Though you might not believe me, your father was quite different in his youth. He was loud, brash, and often given to fantasies of grandeur and majesty," and she chuckled slightly at that, for that was a quality he hadn't quite lost though his dreams had become much grounded, and his perseverance to make those dreams a reality had been quite a change.
"Even in those days, he spoke of rebuilding King landing and establishing an army and fleet, yet at that, they were nothing but words, and then the announcement of our marriage was made," she said somberly. She had been against the match initially, especially given the rumors about his debauchery.
"It was around this time that he changed," she spoke clearly as she recalled those days in her mind.
"He became quieter, somber, and much more mature. I believe this is when his reams began," she answered, and then it was her daughter who cut her off.
"But how can you be sure now? You said you suspected it, but how can you be sure now that he was a dreamer," asked daenys and Rhaella turned away from her daughter and picked up the diary from the table. The very diary Aerys had entrusted her with, a diary with his visions and ideas. Rhaella knew little of science and administration, yet even she could tell that this diary was a treasure trove for their family. The things written in there would have been called as ramblings of a madman, yet given all Aerys had accomplished in his reign of about thirty years, she was inclined to believe them to be true and if they were. She held the key to the very future of this world.
"This is your father's diary," she said, seeing all of them look at the thick book with a narrowed gaze.
"After his death, Ser Gerold took me to his room, and with a key Aerys had entrusted me in his life, I opened a hidden safe hidden in the room where I found this along with some other things," she began.
"WAIT!" suddenly, Rhaegar spoke up as he reached into his shirt, took out a key similar to hers, and raised it toward her.
"Was the key like this?" he questioned, and she nodded.
"Indeed, there were three keys in total. One was with Aerys, I had the second one and you had the last one, Rhaegar," she began, and the three of them were hanging on to her every word and casting curious glances at the diary.
"Aerys wrote this in case he ever died before he could finish his work. And he knew that buying those dragon eggs would jeopardize his life, so he wrote this diary so you all could have some sort of help in the future," and she saw Daenys's lips thin at those words.
"What! Then why the hell did he do it? Damn the dragons…" but before she could say anymore, Rhaegar held her hand.
"Please stop, Daenys. Please," he said, and the two brothers shared a look making Daenys frown.
"What are you hiding? We have an army and a whole freaking armada of ships. What was so important that he had to risk his life to get those eggs," spoke Daenys. Her sons looked towards her, and she gave them a nod, giving them permission to discuss the extinction-level threat humanity faced.
"There was a reason for this Daenys. A reason which only a handful of people know in the entire kingdom," began Rhaegar, slowly making Daenys frown.
"It is time you learn about project 'Dawn Break'," spoke Aemon as he stood up from his seat.
"Dawn Break? Are the two of them joking mother?" Daenys said with a frown and looked at her. Rhaella shook her head.
"They are telling the truth,"she said and Daenys looked at Rhaegar who continued.
"Do you remember the story of the Long night and the Night King father often told us when we were children," and Daenys nodded. Aerys had been fond of telling stories to his children.
"Isn't that a folk tale from the North?" questioned Daenys, her voice quivering.
"No, my dear sister. That folk tale is a lot more than just a tale. The Dark Night was real, and so was the Night King, and he is coming back with a whole army at his back."
And silence hung in the chambers as Daenys's eyes widened at those words. And then they talked about it all. In the end, it was all too much to process in a single sitting. So, they left her chambers after hours, all heading for the yard to process everything they had just heard.
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LYANNA STARK
Living in the North for her whole life, the capital had been quite a shock to her. For all its prosperity, Wintertown housed about fifty thousand people at most though she would venture that it was lower than that.
Coming to the capital had been a shock; Lyanna had been to White Harbor a couple of times and had thought the city a marvel with its packed streets, with merchants selling wares from across the world at every corner. Yet the Capital had been a completely different beast.
If White Harbor was packed, then the capital was nearly five times the number of people, with the city being about thrice as large as the behemoth that was Whit Harbor, with two sets of walls and a third set under construction. The capital was filled with people. The buildings rose high and touched the sky, and the streets were packed with goods from across the world.
The Red Keep itself was a magnificent castle, expanded by the previous King. The castle itself was surrounded by two sets of walls with expanded stables and a training yard. Speaking of the training yard, she found herself intrigued by the thundering noises coming from the yard and hence snuck out of her room to see what was going on.
There were actually two training yards. One was smaller, usually closed off to regular soldiers, and mainly sued by the Kingsgaurd and the Royal family. Benjen had shown it to her when they had arrived, knowing about her interests already. With each step, the sound of metal clashing and shouting got louder, and finally, she reached the balcony and found the source of all the noise.
Below in the yard, there were people sparring. People she recognized immediately. The King himself was present, his hair wet with sweat and grime as he parried a strike from his brother, Prince Aemon.
Lyanna herself had spent quite a bit of time in the yard and could tell that the two of them were quite skilled, and the way their swords blurred through the air, it was evident that they had danced like this for quite some time.
The King remained on the back foot, remaining relatively still as he dodged and parried the strikes from his brother, who was a flurry of activity. They continued to spar and she stood there watching their dance. They were both equally matched, and their spar ended with much less fanfare as the two of them simply stopped with a final nod, indicating a draw.
Much to her surprise, they hadn't missed her presence as she saw the King look towards her, and she stilled as those amethyst eyes landed on her.
"Lady Lyanna, it is good to see you," said King Rhaegar making her blush as she saw his skin through his shirt. Though thankfully, her mother's lessons kicked in instinctively as she curtsied.
"I apologize for intruding, your grace," she said slowly, yet the King waived away her apology.
"It is nothing. Please join us," he said, and she gulped as she began to walk down. Finally reaching the yard she saw the King and Prince Aemon approach them, as both of them wiped away the sweat.
"I believe it must be Ser Benjen who showed you this yard?" he asked, and she nodded, dread pooling in her heart at having gotten Benjen into trouble. It must have shown on her face because she heard the Prince chuckle as he began.
"Don't worry about your brother Princess. It was just a surprise to see someone other than our sister here," and she flushed in embarrassment, though before she could say anything, another set of footsteps interrupted them.
"Ok, Aemon, I am ready for our spar now," said the intruder. She looked up, and her eyes widened as she found Princess Daenys standing there, clad in training armor with a short sword in her hands.
Much like the rest of the Kingdom, she had heard that the Princess could wield a sword and that the King indulged his youngest daughter and allowed her to learn to wield a sword. Something she was quite jealous of since she had to bribe her brother for lessons herself.
The Prince looked at his sister, like this was all routine to them, before she felt his eyes land on her, and Lyanna couldn't help but get a bit lost in those amethyst eyes. The Targaryen were often said to be closer to Gods than to men, and it showed especially in their appearances. Their Valyrian roots made them all exceptionally beautiful.
And she found it all true, much like his brother the Prince was blessed with sharp features and his hair had grown longer and was tied with a band.
"I believe your Benjen mentioned that you used to train with a sword yourself, my lady," the Prince asked and Lyanna cursed Benjen in her heart for spilling her secrets to the Prince. Yet, in the end, she nodded slowly. After all there was no point in lying now, giver her own brother had ratted her out.
"Yes, my prince. I used to bribe him and Ned for some lessons," she said a bit louder than normal, hiding away her embarrassment. The Prince chuckled, and she felt her heartbeat fasten at that roguish smile before he spoke slowly.
"Ahh that reminds me of someone in my own family," the Prince teased the Princess who looked away haughtily.
"I refuse to acknowledge all such allegations," said the Princess, and Lyanna found the relationship between the Targaryen siblings similar to what she and her siblings had.
"I believe we should do things a bit differently today, perhaps instead of me you would be amenable to facing Lady Lyanna in the yard," began the Prince and her eyes widened at those words.
"Of course, if the Lady agrees," he added suddenly and he found Princess Daenys looking at her with a complex gaze, her lips turned up as she cast a glance at her brother.
Lyanna could only look and shake her head.
"I would be honored to Princess, but I lack any armor or equipment for this," she said and the Princess smirked and took her by the arm.
"Oh, don't worry about that. We have spare equipment and clothes in the room. Come let me show you," and with that, she was dragged out of the yard to an adjacent room A single thought ran in her mind.
'Ned is going to kill me!'
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ThunderBasilisk
Well Worn Bastion
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Nice to know that the mc had contingencies in place just in case he croaked early. Smart of him.
Zeld
I trust you know where the happy button is?
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Yeah, otherwise it could have become dangerous given the history of the Dance
ATP
Well worn.
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It is fucking Westeros.If Blackfyres do not get him,it would be Drowned god,or sometching from Asshai,Hadath,Stygoi,Cardossa or other "nice" place.
But - even here love could bloom .Good,that both Aemon and Lyanna would be happy...till something bloody murder them.
P.S Is Stannis married here?
Zeld
I trust you know where the happy button is?
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Yes, he is married to House Crabb
Chapter 19
Zeld
I trust you know where the happy button is?
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Chapter 19
Lyanna Stark, The Winter Rose, was the youngest of Lord Rickard Stark's four children. She was a precocious child who preferred to ride horses and hunt bords instead of dancing and sewing. She was said to bribe her brothers for lessons in hunting and riding and was a major cause of headaches for her father. The death of the Lady of Winterfell had left everyone distraught, and all the Starks cared deeply for the last reaming symbol of their mother.
Lyanna Stark would sneak into her brother's entourage and go to the capital. It would be a perilous journey, and had she returned from the capital, she would have been punished by her Lord and brother Brandon. Yet fate would have another plan for Winterfell's beautiful rose.
In the capital, a match was already being made between Jamie Lannister and Princess Daenys, with the heir to Casterly Rock undergoing extreme scrutiny before he could marry Princess Daenys. Yet the late King's second son remained unmarried still and would have his heart captured by the Winter Rose of the North.
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DAENYS TARGARYEN
Daenys Targaryen was many things, but she wasn't blind, especially to the look in her brother's eyes. She had grown up with him and was acutely aware of that glint in his eyes. It was a look of desire and wanting and amusement.
The usual stoic face of her elder brother would often have a small smile on his lips these days, and she had caught him several times chatting and conversing with someone rather surprising.
Even now, his eyes were glued to the armor-clad figure of the person standing opposite to her. Lyanna Stark, the infamous Winter Rose of the North stood opposite to her, clad in spare armor as she held a sword in her hand. The way she held that sword told her that those rumors about the Winter Rose's preference for riding and hunting over sewing and dancing weren't exaggerated. Her stance spoke of practice and experience, and the thought of facing an opponent like that made her smile.
It had been quite some time since she had sparred in the yard, especially with the departure of Dame Brienne. There wasn't anyone left to spar against.
"Are both of you ready?" came the voice of her eldest brother from the balcony, and she saw the girl opposite to her give a small nod as she got into her stance. Daenys glanced up and saw Rhaegar smiling cryptically at Aemon, who had his eyes glued on her opponent, and she couldn't help but chuckle as she pulled down the visor on her helmet and took out her own sword.
Unlike the usual swords wielded by knights, hers was thinner, gifted to her by her father. It was a bit larger than a shortsword, yet thinner and shaped like a needle.
Rhaegar gave them both a nod and raised his hand. Before bringing it down with a shout.
"Begin!"
Lyanna Stark was first to move, her grey eyes gleaming behind her helmet as she swung down her blade at her. And Daenys had to say that the girl was fast. Yet not fast enough.
CLANK!
With a small step back, Daenys avoided the attack before she moved forward, and she swung her sword at her exposed shoulder. The girl reacted haphazardly and shifted to the right making her blade hit her armor.
But before Daenys could attack again, she was forced to duck as Lyanna Stark's sword swept through the air right where her head had been. It scrapped the metal of her helmet and she felt a rush as she heard the very wind rustle, and smiled as her grip on her rapier tightened, and she pulled it back before she launched her own barrage at the guest from North.
Her sword was thinner, and that made it difficult to parry blows, yet its lightweight and thin nature gave her a different advantage. It was the perfect weapon for exploiting the gaps left by the armor.
She saw the Northern woman grunt in pain as she struck her shoulder, followed by her side. The sword was a tourney blade with a dull edge and wouldn't pierce the skin, yet a strike would hurt quite a bit nonetheless.
"ARGH!" the Northern girl grunted in pain as she took a blow head-on, instead of dodging or parrying, and Daenys smile dropped as she saw her grey eyes glint as she slashed at her from the side.
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JAMIE LANNISTER
Jamie Lannister, the heir to Casterly Rock, had just spent an hour getting scrutinized by the Queen and the Queen mother. His time in the capital had been quite amazing, and he had finally begun to understand the sheer pressure of marrying Princess Daenys. He much like the whole realm was aware of the status of the Princess, yet only now did he truly just how much the royal family doted on the Princess. And it wasn't just the royal family, he had even gotten a strongly worded letter from his sister about treating the Princess appropriately.
It was like they thought that she was made of glass, yet the display blow in the yard went contrary to those thoughts. He stood on the balcony, with the King and Prince Aemon as the three of them watched the two ladies spar with each other.
Lyanna Stark and Daenys Targaryen danced on the ground with their blades, with the ferocity and precision of knights twice their age. Jamie himself was mesmerized by the Princess who tried parry the strike aimed at her side with her thin sword, yet the thin blade wasn't the best at this and could only slow down the incoming strike.
CLUNK!
He winced as Lady Lyanna Stark's sword hit the armor on Princess Daenys side, forcing her to step back as she grunted in pain. Lyanna Stark hadn't escaped unscathed from their little interaction either, the numerous blows from Princess Daenys had done their damage making the Northern Lady give up on chasing after the Princess.
"They are good, very good," he found himself speaking, and that wasn't a lie. And though their skills could be comparable, Jamie's eyes were glued to the young Targaryen Princess with her silvery blonde rocks flowing out of her helmet like a waterfall.
The Princess got to her feet once more, and approached her Northern guest. Lyanna Stark saw through the Princess's attempt to move into her defense and swung her blade at her, forcing the Princess to step back.
The Princess tried to move in again, yet the Northern Lady was unrelenting and continued to slash as soon as the Princess stepped into her range.
In the end, the battle was decided in a split second. The Princess stepped forward, and the woman from the North shed at her per usual, but the Princess was faster. She spun on her heel, the sword brushing past her hair as she struck Lyanna Stark's hand with her sword.
"ARGHH!" the girl from the North grunted in pain, forced to let go of her sword. Yet it did not deter her, he immediately reached for the dagger strapped to her side, yet the match was already done.
He saw Lady Lyanna stop, as the Princess placed the tip of her sword near her neck, the thin sword skidding into the small gap between the neck guard and helmet.
Instinctively, he found himself clapping and saw the tension vanish from the yard as the two combatants looked at the source of the commotion. He watched them both still as soon as their eyes landed on him.
"Ser Jamie?" he heard the Princess mutter as she took off her helmet, beads of sweat glistening over her flushed face.
"An impressive duel, wouldn't you say?" began the King as they descended the stairs and walked up to the two ladies. By then, Lyanna Stark had taken off her helmet as swell, her lush dark hair tied in a ponytail, as she shook hands with the Princess.
"It was quite impressive," he replied as he heard the Princess speak up.
"I hadn't known you were this skilled with a blade, princess," complimented the raven-haired lady, and the Princess smiled.
"Thank you, you were pretty good yourself. The only person better than you would perhaps be Dame Brienne," said the Princess, and Jamie saw the Stark girl frown at those words.
"Dame Brienne?" she questioned. And before Jamie could reply, Prince Aemon spoke up from the side.
"She speaks of Lady Brienne of Tarth, she was the first woman knighted by our father. Usually, she would be here in the castle, but she is accompanying Lord Stannis at the moment," replied the Prince smoothly, and he saw the black-haired girl's eyes widen in realization.
"Ohh, so that is the official title for female knights," she exclaimed, and the Prince nodded.
"Indeed, it is. There have been two more after Lady Brienne, both of them were Prince Oberyn's base-born daughters," and he felt the mood in the yard turn somber at the mention of the Queen's brother.
"Though from what I saw, you could go toe to toe with any of them Lady Lyanna," complimented the Prince and Jamie didn't miss the red blush that appeared on the girl's face as she replied meekly.
"Thank you, my Prince."
He himself looked towards the Princess, who had a mischievous glint in her eyes as she stared at her brother.
"And I believe my sisters' words didn't do justice to your skill with a blade, Princess. I have seen knights less skilled than that," he spoke and saw the Princess's gaze turn towards her.
"Tha…" but before she could say any further.
"Ahh, I should have expected that you would be here in the yard!" a very familiar voice cut off the Princess. Jamie felt his heartbeat quicken as his head snapped toward the source of the words.
And he smiled as he saw those familiar Lannister golden locks on the balcony. The years had done little for his brother's stature, and his facial features had changed quite a bit. Yet even so, Jamie was quite sure that there was only one person of that stature and that hair in the whole realm.
"Tyrion!"
"Tyrion!" two people in the yard shouted. And he saw his brother chuckle as he and the princess yelled simultaneously.
"Ahh, don't worry, you two. There is enough of me for both of you!"
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RHAELLA TARGARYEN
People often thought of her as the oldest living Targaryen alive these days, yet those words couldn't be true. Yet she could understand why, for the other person had always preferred to live in obscurity, his royal heritage hidden behind the chain and the vows of a master yet always present in the balding silvery patches of hair on his head.
Aemon Targaryen, son of Maekar Targaryen, uncle to Aerys and Rhaella Targaryen, was the oldest living Targaryen alive. Born as the second son, the man had chosen to become a maester, leaving behind his legacy and family.
After the tragedy of Summer Hall, she had forgotten all about the man, unlike Aerys, who still remembered their estranged uncle. She remembered him writing to the Citadel, and then weeks later, a man of nearly the same build as their father had appeared. That had been the first time she had met Aemon Targaryen, a simple and comely man who helped her and Aerys through the grief of the tragedy of Summer Hall.
Yet the same man had a dazed look on his face as he watched the three young little dragons play with her three children. His eyesight was affected by disease and age, yet thanks to advancements, surgery had been done, allowing the man to see once more with the aid of what her husband used to call 'spectacles'.
"I never thought I would see the day!" he muttered in a dazed tone as he slowly reached to touch the dragon dancing on her daughter's shoulders. The little dragon snapped its head towards the aged man, becoming a bit agitated but docile as Daenys muttered reassurances continuously and her uncle touched the young dragon.
"Dragons! Real dragons!" he continued in a dazed tone and she could sympathize with the man, she herself had been dazed much like him when the three dragon eggs had hatched.
She saw him look at her, his metal chain adorned with various links showing his mastery over several fields clunk ah he spoke.
"I had always thought that Aerys was special," he began in a soft tone, and the mention of her departed husband made her heart ache.
"This just confirms it for me. Was he truly blessed with dragon dreams?" his question left her a bit dazed, for she hadn't told the man about this. In the end, she nodded, choosing to share the secret of her husband with the man, since he was family after all.
"Dragon dreams!" he repeated in a dazed tone, as Qyburn led the man to a chair. It was quite a bit to process.
"So, why have you called me here, Rhaella?" the man finally questioned. And Rhaella gulped as she nodded at Qyburn, who handed the man a piece of parchment.
"I wanted to hear your opinion on this edict my husband wrote?"
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Aemon Targaryen the Elder, better known as Maester Aemon was the second son of King Maekar Targaryen. Being the spare, the man chose to join the Citadel after his brother was blessed with heirs of his own. It would have been the end of the man, yet the tragedy of Summer Hall would bring back the man to the capital at the request of his nephew King Aerys who would keep the man as an advisor in the initial years before appointing him as Citadel's liaison to the University he began building with the infamous Qyburn and the Alchemists Guild.
It was a political appointment that many in the Citadel sought to reverse yet held their hands in fear of retribution from the King who never truly looked favorable towards the order.
Maester Aemon's diaries are amongst the best representation of the transformation of the realm that took place in King Aery's time. The advances made in science and health and various other fields are cataloged with great accuracy, along with a detailed description of the King's role in all such discoveries.
The King Aerys offered the man the position of the Hand, yet the elder Targaryen would refuse the offer citing his aversion to the politics at court. He would live his life in solitude, trying to give form to Aerys's University, which would then become the house of thousands and thousands of inventions and breakthroughs over the years.
After the birth of the Dragons, the dowager Queen, Rhaella Targaryen would call for the man ( he was away from the capital for some reason ) to consult with him about the Edict.
Aerys Targaryen had written on the edict that it would only ever be applicable if all three of his children were to sign on it, hence leaving the decision in their hands. After much deliberation about the legal and societal ramifications, the three children of King Aerys chose not to sign on the Edict hoping to prove themselves better than their ancestors who tore the realm in Half but two decades ago in the Dance of the Dragons.
Some scholars speculate that there were, in truth two parts to the Edict. And the family chose to act on the second part, which contained King Aerys's second plan to avoid the dance.
Expansion and Colonization.
The only proof that points to such a case is that for three hundred and fifty years the Targaryen family remained satisfied with ruling the seven Kingdoms, yet in the reign of King Aegon VI, the realm would see a change in policy and would begin the age of Conquest with the Royal family attacking and colonizing the Lands across the Narrow sea, much like the Valyria of the Old.
"Aemon Targaryen has often been the name of second sons. Famous second sons. From Aemon the dragon knight to Aemon Targaryen the Maester, and then Aemon Targaryen the hero of the Dawn, the name has a solid history."
- Rhaena Targaryen 1014 AC ( The Targaryens Beyond Kings )
Note: He is also suspected to be the first person in the world to undergo cataract surgery and have an intraocular lens implant (an ox's lens was used before the invention of the artificial lens ).
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As always, you can read ahead and support me on Patreon. The support from all of you is what makes it possible for me to write these stories. So, it would help me out a lot, if you would consider becoming a patron.
www.Patreon.com/Drkest
Have fun reading!
Lyanna Stark, The Winter Rose, was the youngest of Lord Rickard Stark's four children. She was a precocious child who preferred to ride horses and hunt bords instead of dancing and sewing. She was said to bribe her brothers for lessons in hunting and riding and was a major cause of headaches for her father. The death of the Lady of Winterfell had left everyone distraught, and all the Starks cared deeply for the last reaming symbol of their mother.
Lyanna Stark would sneak into her brother's entourage and go to the capital. It would be a perilous journey, and had she returned from the capital, she would have been punished by her Lord and brother Brandon. Yet fate would have another plan for Winterfell's beautiful rose.
In the capital, a match was already being made between Jamie Lannister and Princess Daenys, with the heir to Casterly Rock undergoing extreme scrutiny before he could marry Princess Daenys. Yet the late King's second son remained unmarried still and would have his heart captured by the Winter Rose of the North.
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DAENYS TARGARYEN
Daenys Targaryen was many things, but she wasn't blind, especially to the look in her brother's eyes. She had grown up with him and was acutely aware of that glint in his eyes. It was a look of desire and wanting and amusement.
The usual stoic face of her elder brother would often have a small smile on his lips these days, and she had caught him several times chatting and conversing with someone rather surprising.
Even now, his eyes were glued to the armor-clad figure of the person standing opposite to her. Lyanna Stark, the infamous Winter Rose of the North stood opposite to her, clad in spare armor as she held a sword in her hand. The way she held that sword told her that those rumors about the Winter Rose's preference for riding and hunting over sewing and dancing weren't exaggerated. Her stance spoke of practice and experience, and the thought of facing an opponent like that made her smile.
It had been quite some time since she had sparred in the yard, especially with the departure of Dame Brienne. There wasn't anyone left to spar against.
"Are both of you ready?" came the voice of her eldest brother from the balcony, and she saw the girl opposite to her give a small nod as she got into her stance. Daenys glanced up and saw Rhaegar smiling cryptically at Aemon, who had his eyes glued on her opponent, and she couldn't help but chuckle as she pulled down the visor on her helmet and took out her own sword.
Unlike the usual swords wielded by knights, hers was thinner, gifted to her by her father. It was a bit larger than a shortsword, yet thinner and shaped like a needle.
Rhaegar gave them both a nod and raised his hand. Before bringing it down with a shout.
"Begin!"
Lyanna Stark was first to move, her grey eyes gleaming behind her helmet as she swung down her blade at her. And Daenys had to say that the girl was fast. Yet not fast enough.
CLANK!
With a small step back, Daenys avoided the attack before she moved forward, and she swung her sword at her exposed shoulder. The girl reacted haphazardly and shifted to the right making her blade hit her armor.
But before Daenys could attack again, she was forced to duck as Lyanna Stark's sword swept through the air right where her head had been. It scrapped the metal of her helmet and she felt a rush as she heard the very wind rustle, and smiled as her grip on her rapier tightened, and she pulled it back before she launched her own barrage at the guest from North.
Her sword was thinner, and that made it difficult to parry blows, yet its lightweight and thin nature gave her a different advantage. It was the perfect weapon for exploiting the gaps left by the armor.
She saw the Northern woman grunt in pain as she struck her shoulder, followed by her side. The sword was a tourney blade with a dull edge and wouldn't pierce the skin, yet a strike would hurt quite a bit nonetheless.
"ARGH!" the Northern girl grunted in pain as she took a blow head-on, instead of dodging or parrying, and Daenys smile dropped as she saw her grey eyes glint as she slashed at her from the side.
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JAMIE LANNISTER
Jamie Lannister, the heir to Casterly Rock, had just spent an hour getting scrutinized by the Queen and the Queen mother. His time in the capital had been quite amazing, and he had finally begun to understand the sheer pressure of marrying Princess Daenys. He much like the whole realm was aware of the status of the Princess, yet only now did he truly just how much the royal family doted on the Princess. And it wasn't just the royal family, he had even gotten a strongly worded letter from his sister about treating the Princess appropriately.
It was like they thought that she was made of glass, yet the display blow in the yard went contrary to those thoughts. He stood on the balcony, with the King and Prince Aemon as the three of them watched the two ladies spar with each other.
Lyanna Stark and Daenys Targaryen danced on the ground with their blades, with the ferocity and precision of knights twice their age. Jamie himself was mesmerized by the Princess who tried parry the strike aimed at her side with her thin sword, yet the thin blade wasn't the best at this and could only slow down the incoming strike.
CLUNK!
He winced as Lady Lyanna Stark's sword hit the armor on Princess Daenys side, forcing her to step back as she grunted in pain. Lyanna Stark hadn't escaped unscathed from their little interaction either, the numerous blows from Princess Daenys had done their damage making the Northern Lady give up on chasing after the Princess.
"They are good, very good," he found himself speaking, and that wasn't a lie. And though their skills could be comparable, Jamie's eyes were glued to the young Targaryen Princess with her silvery blonde rocks flowing out of her helmet like a waterfall.
The Princess got to her feet once more, and approached her Northern guest. Lyanna Stark saw through the Princess's attempt to move into her defense and swung her blade at her, forcing the Princess to step back.
The Princess tried to move in again, yet the Northern Lady was unrelenting and continued to slash as soon as the Princess stepped into her range.
In the end, the battle was decided in a split second. The Princess stepped forward, and the woman from the North shed at her per usual, but the Princess was faster. She spun on her heel, the sword brushing past her hair as she struck Lyanna Stark's hand with her sword.
"ARGHH!" the girl from the North grunted in pain, forced to let go of her sword. Yet it did not deter her, he immediately reached for the dagger strapped to her side, yet the match was already done.
He saw Lady Lyanna stop, as the Princess placed the tip of her sword near her neck, the thin sword skidding into the small gap between the neck guard and helmet.
Instinctively, he found himself clapping and saw the tension vanish from the yard as the two combatants looked at the source of the commotion. He watched them both still as soon as their eyes landed on him.
"Ser Jamie?" he heard the Princess mutter as she took off her helmet, beads of sweat glistening over her flushed face.
"An impressive duel, wouldn't you say?" began the King as they descended the stairs and walked up to the two ladies. By then, Lyanna Stark had taken off her helmet as swell, her lush dark hair tied in a ponytail, as she shook hands with the Princess.
"It was quite impressive," he replied as he heard the Princess speak up.
"I hadn't known you were this skilled with a blade, princess," complimented the raven-haired lady, and the Princess smiled.
"Thank you, you were pretty good yourself. The only person better than you would perhaps be Dame Brienne," said the Princess, and Jamie saw the Stark girl frown at those words.
"Dame Brienne?" she questioned. And before Jamie could reply, Prince Aemon spoke up from the side.
"She speaks of Lady Brienne of Tarth, she was the first woman knighted by our father. Usually, she would be here in the castle, but she is accompanying Lord Stannis at the moment," replied the Prince smoothly, and he saw the black-haired girl's eyes widen in realization.
"Ohh, so that is the official title for female knights," she exclaimed, and the Prince nodded.
"Indeed, it is. There have been two more after Lady Brienne, both of them were Prince Oberyn's base-born daughters," and he felt the mood in the yard turn somber at the mention of the Queen's brother.
"Though from what I saw, you could go toe to toe with any of them Lady Lyanna," complimented the Prince and Jamie didn't miss the red blush that appeared on the girl's face as she replied meekly.
"Thank you, my Prince."
He himself looked towards the Princess, who had a mischievous glint in her eyes as she stared at her brother.
"And I believe my sisters' words didn't do justice to your skill with a blade, Princess. I have seen knights less skilled than that," he spoke and saw the Princess's gaze turn towards her.
"Tha…" but before she could say any further.
"Ahh, I should have expected that you would be here in the yard!" a very familiar voice cut off the Princess. Jamie felt his heartbeat quicken as his head snapped toward the source of the words.
And he smiled as he saw those familiar Lannister golden locks on the balcony. The years had done little for his brother's stature, and his facial features had changed quite a bit. Yet even so, Jamie was quite sure that there was only one person of that stature and that hair in the whole realm.
"Tyrion!"
"Tyrion!" two people in the yard shouted. And he saw his brother chuckle as he and the princess yelled simultaneously.
"Ahh, don't worry, you two. There is enough of me for both of you!"
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RHAELLA TARGARYEN
People often thought of her as the oldest living Targaryen alive these days, yet those words couldn't be true. Yet she could understand why, for the other person had always preferred to live in obscurity, his royal heritage hidden behind the chain and the vows of a master yet always present in the balding silvery patches of hair on his head.
Aemon Targaryen, son of Maekar Targaryen, uncle to Aerys and Rhaella Targaryen, was the oldest living Targaryen alive. Born as the second son, the man had chosen to become a maester, leaving behind his legacy and family.
After the tragedy of Summer Hall, she had forgotten all about the man, unlike Aerys, who still remembered their estranged uncle. She remembered him writing to the Citadel, and then weeks later, a man of nearly the same build as their father had appeared. That had been the first time she had met Aemon Targaryen, a simple and comely man who helped her and Aerys through the grief of the tragedy of Summer Hall.
Yet the same man had a dazed look on his face as he watched the three young little dragons play with her three children. His eyesight was affected by disease and age, yet thanks to advancements, surgery had been done, allowing the man to see once more with the aid of what her husband used to call 'spectacles'.
"I never thought I would see the day!" he muttered in a dazed tone as he slowly reached to touch the dragon dancing on her daughter's shoulders. The little dragon snapped its head towards the aged man, becoming a bit agitated but docile as Daenys muttered reassurances continuously and her uncle touched the young dragon.
"Dragons! Real dragons!" he continued in a dazed tone and she could sympathize with the man, she herself had been dazed much like him when the three dragon eggs had hatched.
She saw him look at her, his metal chain adorned with various links showing his mastery over several fields clunk ah he spoke.
"I had always thought that Aerys was special," he began in a soft tone, and the mention of her departed husband made her heart ache.
"This just confirms it for me. Was he truly blessed with dragon dreams?" his question left her a bit dazed, for she hadn't told the man about this. In the end, she nodded, choosing to share the secret of her husband with the man, since he was family after all.
"Dragon dreams!" he repeated in a dazed tone, as Qyburn led the man to a chair. It was quite a bit to process.
"So, why have you called me here, Rhaella?" the man finally questioned. And Rhaella gulped as she nodded at Qyburn, who handed the man a piece of parchment.
"I wanted to hear your opinion on this edict my husband wrote?"
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Aemon Targaryen the Elder, better known as Maester Aemon was the second son of King Maekar Targaryen. Being the spare, the man chose to join the Citadel after his brother was blessed with heirs of his own. It would have been the end of the man, yet the tragedy of Summer Hall would bring back the man to the capital at the request of his nephew King Aerys who would keep the man as an advisor in the initial years before appointing him as Citadel's liaison to the University he began building with the infamous Qyburn and the Alchemists Guild.
It was a political appointment that many in the Citadel sought to reverse yet held their hands in fear of retribution from the King who never truly looked favorable towards the order.
Maester Aemon's diaries are amongst the best representation of the transformation of the realm that took place in King Aery's time. The advances made in science and health and various other fields are cataloged with great accuracy, along with a detailed description of the King's role in all such discoveries.
The King Aerys offered the man the position of the Hand, yet the elder Targaryen would refuse the offer citing his aversion to the politics at court. He would live his life in solitude, trying to give form to Aerys's University, which would then become the house of thousands and thousands of inventions and breakthroughs over the years.
After the birth of the Dragons, the dowager Queen, Rhaella Targaryen would call for the man ( he was away from the capital for some reason ) to consult with him about the Edict.
Aerys Targaryen had written on the edict that it would only ever be applicable if all three of his children were to sign on it, hence leaving the decision in their hands. After much deliberation about the legal and societal ramifications, the three children of King Aerys chose not to sign on the Edict hoping to prove themselves better than their ancestors who tore the realm in Half but two decades ago in the Dance of the Dragons.
Some scholars speculate that there were, in truth two parts to the Edict. And the family chose to act on the second part, which contained King Aerys's second plan to avoid the dance.
Expansion and Colonization.
The only proof that points to such a case is that for three hundred and fifty years the Targaryen family remained satisfied with ruling the seven Kingdoms, yet in the reign of King Aegon VI, the realm would see a change in policy and would begin the age of Conquest with the Royal family attacking and colonizing the Lands across the Narrow sea, much like the Valyria of the Old.
"Aemon Targaryen has often been the name of second sons. Famous second sons. From Aemon the dragon knight to Aemon Targaryen the Maester, and then Aemon Targaryen the hero of the Dawn, the name has a solid history."
- Rhaena Targaryen 1014 AC ( The Targaryens Beyond Kings )
Note: He is also suspected to be the first person in the world to undergo cataract surgery and have an intraocular lens implant (an ox's lens was used before the invention of the artificial lens ).
0000
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Have fun reading!
ThunderBasilisk
Well Worn Bastion
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- Mar 23, 2020
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- 105,336
Tne dragons have been born! Lets hope they have a better fate than Canon yeah?
ATP
Well worn.
- Joined
- Jun 24, 2020
- Messages
- 5,084
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- 9,847
Dame Brienne go with Stannis - it would be funny,if she end Renly here.I hope,that author later gave her good husband,heroic death,or both!
Aside from that - Lyanna get her prince,and Jaime his princess.Now,all we need is happy end of Blackfyres,and final clash with Others.
Would they manage to win without Arya Ex Machina? would Brienne heroically die?
See in next issue!
Aside from that - Lyanna get her prince,and Jaime his princess.Now,all we need is happy end of Blackfyres,and final clash with Others.
Would they manage to win without Arya Ex Machina? would Brienne heroically die?
See in next issue!
Chapter 20
Zeld
I trust you know where the happy button is?
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Chapter 20
As the King and his brother focused on the war waged against them by the Balckfyre pretenders, a different and more sinister plan was being hatched against them and the whole Royal family in their own Kingdom.
With the King busy preparing to lead the final charge against the conspirators abroad, someone else was giving the final touches to their plans.
'The False Preacher' was one of the more intriguing and troublesome enemies faced by the Targaryen regime after the death of King Aerys. King Aerys had always been a man of science and could be considered to be a godless man despite his various charitable ventures. The King never made any major contributions to the septs, choosing to do charity through orders and organizations he established himself. It was a stark departure from the usual methodology of Kings who would give a fortune to the Sept and clergy.
Petyr Baelish, a man who was a minor noble from Vale who became Houster Tully's page for a number of years, was one cunning man. The man was said to be besotted with the daughter of the Lord of Riverrun, Catelyn Tully, who was said to be one of the finest maidens of the realm. Yet the infatuation was one-sided, and when the Royal Family allowed for a match between her and Lord Brynden Stark, the man sought retribution.
He would become the instigator of religious riots against the Royal family, calling them heathens and godless men. His rebellion would be put down easily, yet its effects would loom large tears later in the Religious uprising of 380 AC.
0000
RHAEGAR TARGARYEN
Rhaegar sat in his solar with his brother as they confirmed their plan of action. The war had now entered its final bouts, and it was time for them to land a decisive blow against their enemies.
The strike from Brynden Tully's Black Knights had been successful in forcing the Blackfyres to evacuate from Lys to Tyrosh, and by now, the Tyrell army under the leadership of Lord Tarly and Lord Redwyne was surrounding the city of Tyrosh to land their final blow.
Though the same could not be said of their campaign in Stepstones which was proving to be a challenging battlefield. And that was where Rhaegar planned to strike next.
"So, it's decided then, you will lead the army against the Golden Company in the Stepstones providing support to Robert," confirmed his younger brother and Rhaegar nodded.
"Indeed, we need to drive them back and then push forward from the Stepstones completely encircling them in Tyrosh," concluded Rhaegar as he set the dragon pieces on the board such that they surrounded Tyrosh.
"What about Myr?" questioned Aemon. And Rhaegar shook his head.
"Myr is a no-go for them. We have neutralized the city, the minute the Blakfyres or their allies set foot in the city they will be killed," and it was all thanks to Dorne and Lord Manderly who had developed deep connections in the city of Myr. Qyburn and his men had been stationed there and ordered to assassinate any Blackfyre ally that tried to escape to the city, as for those who had shown him support earlier. All of them had been managed.
Aemon once more scanned the map in front of him with a critical gaze trying to find any flaw in their strategy, yet he found none. So, in the end, he just sighed and nodded.
"Well, the plan seems reasonable, but are you sure you want to lead the armies again? I could take your place and you could stay here in the capital," Aemon offered. And with the birth of his son, a part of him was quite tempted to take the offer. He was acutely aware of his brother's leadership abilities and knew that he could lead an army as well as.
Yet it was his duty, not his brothers. Plus, in this way, Aemon might be able to spend more time with a certain Stark lady. Even now, the capital was filled with rumors about their scandalous romance, and Rhaegar had talked with Eddard and had sent a letter to Brandon Stark surveying the possibility of a probable match between Aemon and Lyanna.
The response was yet to come, but Rhaegar imagined it would be anything but positive. After all, which house would turn down a Royal match, especially one to a prince who was set to inherit a whole city?
"No, this is my job. You should stay in the capital and handle things here," Rhaegar added, and Aemon nodded. They both sat down as Aemon reached for a missive placed on the desk, this had been handed to them by Qyburn earlier.
"Did you see this?" questioned Aemon as he passed the missive to him. Rhaegar took it and skimmed through it and nodded.
"I have, it's about that rogue Septon, causing trouble in the Riverlands," Rhaegar summarized, and Aemon nodded a frown appearing on his face. Qyburn was the unofficial Master of Whispers to the crown and gave his reports directly to them.
This rogue septon had been on his radar for quite some time, the man portrayed himself as a simple septon and tried to show himself as a man of religion. Yet one look at his so-called sermons told of a much sinister and complicated plot. A plot to reestablish the banned faith militants. Something they could never let happen.
"Have you contacted the High Septon about this?" questioned Rhaegar and Aemon nodded.
"I have and the man denies any connection to this man, though one of the Septon did mention that this so-called Sparrow who is often seen with this rogue Septon was once a resident of Kingslanding," and Rhaegar frowned at that.
"So, what do we do?" Rhaegar questioned. It was a matter relating to religion that meant it needed to be handled appropriately, for they could not have a religious crusade at this time.
"Qyburn is trying to find out more about this so-called 'Preacher' yet there is no doubt in my mind that this Sparrow character is a zealot and that makes things troublesome," concluded Aemon as he leaned back into his seat.
"We could kill them," Rhaegar proposed and Aemon shook his head.
"They have support from the people and if we move in with the army to kill them it would make a scene, if either of them succeeds in escaping it could backfire on us," argued Aemon and he was right.
"We need to shift the focus away from the religion, to something that makes the people turn against them," muttered Aemon, and Rhaegar smiled as he saw the wheels turning in his brother's mind scheming away.
Well, it was his hassle.
"Well, then I will leave it to you, the armies are already ready, and I plan to leave in the next two days, but before I depart, I have something for you," Rhaegar informed him, and Aemon perked up at that.
House Targaryen had come into quite a fortune in the last year. From a house without a single Valyrian steel blade to one with two blades and then some Valyrian steel to spare.
The metal Aemon had brought back from his journey had been enough to produce a blade, a short one that he planned to give to his dear sister, yet that still left him with Red Rain.
He reached for the blade he had gotten back from the smith, Tobho Mott was the finest smith in the realm and one of the few who possessed the knowledge to rework Valyrian steel.
Rhaeagar brought out the blade and placed it on the table, and saw Aemon's eyes widen.
"With the return of Blackfyre, I already have a Valyrian Steel sword for myself, and with the metal you brought back, I am having one worked for Daenys. This, however, is for you," Rhaegar said as he unsheathed the blade. Its pommel had been reworked and was shaped like a dragon now, with a red shining emerald decorating the pommel. The hue of the emerald matched the red hue of the blade itself and he saw his brother's eyes gleam over the blade in fascination as Rhaegar held it out for him.
"Red Rain?" his brother questioned, and Rhaegar nodded.
"Indeed, but it has been reworked, and I had hoped you would consider my suggestion for its new name," Rhaegar remarked and Aemon looked up at him with a questioning gaze, gesturing for him to continue.
"Winters bane, I had hoped you would call it that," Rhaegar spoke and saw Aemon's gaze shift to the blade once more.
"Winters bane, I like that name!"
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In a run-down village deep into the Riverlands.
In the seven Kingdoms, there was a place teeming with reivers large and small as they carved through the rich and lush fields and castles to give the region its iconic name, Riverlands.
"The previous King called himself a pious man, yet even he was misguided!" spoke the young Septon standing in front of a small crowd standing outside the sept, as his fellow's sections distributed free soup and bread for the homeless and the destitute. The sept ran these soup kitchens twice a week and for many, it was their only sustenance for the days ahead.
The young septons and septas speaking up weren't ordinary as well, they were called Sparrows, named after the innocuous little bird loved by the children. It was a homage to their leader, the one they called High Sparrow, a pious man who dressed in rags and gave away all he could to the people.
"The Royal family call themselves followers of the Seven. They are anointed in their light. Yet they refuse to follow the commandments of the faith!" shouted the man. And the crowd's reaction was minimal at this, for who would dare speak against their King and liege? It would be treason.
The people in the crowd looked at each other, a bit queasy as two men stood behind and watched the young septon continue.
"The Royal family builds septs and does charity a plenty, yet they refuse to let us spread the word of the Seven across the heathen lands of the North. They refuse to let us have shields and swords to protect ourselves against the heathens that live in lands to our North," the Septon spoke in a resigned and beggaring tone, losing all the confrontational aggression from earlier.
"The word of the Seven is sacred, and we all must do our duty in spreading it to all those who yet remain buried in the darkness of ignorance so they can be brought into the light as well," continued the man.
Behind him, the two men vanished into the forest nearby. Both of them had now taken off their hoods. They were dressed in quite contrasting ways. With one of them having a balding head with white hair. A haggard face, along with callused hands, spoke of hard labor, he was thing speaking of hunger and inconsistency in his meals as he walked barefooted on the ground, his sandals given to one of the poor men he had met on the way. Yet his eyes were sharp, blue in color, and they had depths to them much like the depths of the Sea, and showed an unrelenting intelligence. And why wouldn't they, for you don't become a leader of a whole religious sect without having an impressive intellect.
"The new child is good, though I believe he was a bit too rash in his words. The Royal family will not take it fondly if they hear such words being spoken about them," said the High Sparrow, his voice smooth and light like a light morning breeze. It was as if he could calm down the world with his voice. The man beside him was dressed in opulence, covered in a fine leather doublet and a lavish woolen cloak with his hair slicked back. The man's facial features were sharp, and he would have been considered beautiful if not for his height, which only put him near the shoulders of the High Sparrow.
"Perhaps, but why will the Royal family care about what goes on in some backhand village of Riverrun? Still the young man had tact enough to change his tone when he saw how the people reacted to his words," the Preacher remarked, and High Sparrow nodded. Though internally, he was angry at the young man and had plans to rectify his behavior already forming in his head, for if the Royal family got wind of this, they would crush it all destroying all his hard work.
"Indeed, he is young yet he shows potential," added the High Sparrow as they came to a halt and two men stepped forward, carrying a wooden chest which they began to carry towards the Sept.
"This is the Gold for this month, I believe this will be enough to have the broken sept repaired and renovated," said the Preacher, and the High Sparrow nodded.
"Indeed, but have you received permission from Lord Houster, we cannot have a repeat of the incident that happened with Lord Blackwood," and the shorter man nodded, wincing as he thought about their run in with Lord Blackwood, a land which predominantly housed people who worshipped the Old Gods, the people and the Lord had not taken it kindly when they had tried to repair the septs there and had forced them to leave his lands under the threat of death.
The man would have killed them had Lord Edmure not intervened on their behalf, ordering the man to spare their lives. Now, since their expulsion, there were reports of crime becoming quite rampant in Blackwood lands, with their villages continuously getting attacked by bandits and thieves.
A tragedy, but one which they had brought upon themselves out of their own accord when they had refused to let them preach the word of the Seven in their lands.
"This is signed by Lord Edmure and bears his seal. I believe this would be enough to begin work," began the so-called preacher, and High Sparrow nodded as he took the scroll.
"Yes, this shall do," he said as he pocketed the scroll, before he looked up again.
"Now, tell me how are things in Kinglanding? It has been quite some time since I last heard of the city," asked the High Sparrow, and the shorter man's eyes narrowed.
"The City has changed quite a bit. Despite the doubts the previous King has expanded the city and now it is twice as large with work still being done. Yet the place now also teems with heathens, the King has allowed other faiths to build their places of worship as well, and now there was even a Red Temple in one of the districts," though there was reason to suspect that the King had made them swear on certain things before giving them this allowance, and he found the priests in the temple rather mild in comparison to their Pentoshi counterparts who were said to burn children in the name of their lord.
"Such tragedy, the previous King was quite an able and quick-witted man, our work would be so much easier had he been just as enlightened," said the High Sparrow in a forlorn tone, making his squirm a bit.
King Rhaegar was his father's son and had learned the art of ruling under the man's watchful eyes. Unlike the young and budding Lord Edmure, the King's heir seemed content in following his father's legacy instead of trying to overreach.
Yet it wouldn't matter much. After all they had ingrained themselves deeply into the very social fabric of Riverlands, and it would be nearly impossible for anyone to completely root them out.
"Then I believe this is it, Lord Petyr. Though I hope I can get a glimpse of your famous sermon the next time we meet," said the High Sparrow as they walked up to his horse.
Internally he winced at that name, yet he smiled and took the offered hand with a smile.
"Perhaps, but I believe I gave up that name for my service to the Seven. I much prefer the name I got through my service to the Lords. So, I was hoping that you wouldn't spread it around," remarked Petyr, and the man's smile didn't change.
"Ahh, don't worry about it, my friend. None shall hear it from this mouth,"
"Seven blessings," said Petyr as he mounted his horse.
"Seven blessings," spoke the High sparrow, yet had he known about the source of the gold he had just received, he might have used a different set of words.
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A new enemy emerges! AN enemy with a weapon that could tear the whole realm apart!
As always, you can read ahead and support me on Patreon. Your support makes it possible for me to write. So, if possible, consider looking at my page and dropping a dime. It would mean a lot to me.
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Thanks for reading!
As the King and his brother focused on the war waged against them by the Balckfyre pretenders, a different and more sinister plan was being hatched against them and the whole Royal family in their own Kingdom.
With the King busy preparing to lead the final charge against the conspirators abroad, someone else was giving the final touches to their plans.
'The False Preacher' was one of the more intriguing and troublesome enemies faced by the Targaryen regime after the death of King Aerys. King Aerys had always been a man of science and could be considered to be a godless man despite his various charitable ventures. The King never made any major contributions to the septs, choosing to do charity through orders and organizations he established himself. It was a stark departure from the usual methodology of Kings who would give a fortune to the Sept and clergy.
Petyr Baelish, a man who was a minor noble from Vale who became Houster Tully's page for a number of years, was one cunning man. The man was said to be besotted with the daughter of the Lord of Riverrun, Catelyn Tully, who was said to be one of the finest maidens of the realm. Yet the infatuation was one-sided, and when the Royal Family allowed for a match between her and Lord Brynden Stark, the man sought retribution.
He would become the instigator of religious riots against the Royal family, calling them heathens and godless men. His rebellion would be put down easily, yet its effects would loom large tears later in the Religious uprising of 380 AC.
0000
RHAEGAR TARGARYEN
Rhaegar sat in his solar with his brother as they confirmed their plan of action. The war had now entered its final bouts, and it was time for them to land a decisive blow against their enemies.
The strike from Brynden Tully's Black Knights had been successful in forcing the Blackfyres to evacuate from Lys to Tyrosh, and by now, the Tyrell army under the leadership of Lord Tarly and Lord Redwyne was surrounding the city of Tyrosh to land their final blow.
Though the same could not be said of their campaign in Stepstones which was proving to be a challenging battlefield. And that was where Rhaegar planned to strike next.
"So, it's decided then, you will lead the army against the Golden Company in the Stepstones providing support to Robert," confirmed his younger brother and Rhaegar nodded.
"Indeed, we need to drive them back and then push forward from the Stepstones completely encircling them in Tyrosh," concluded Rhaegar as he set the dragon pieces on the board such that they surrounded Tyrosh.
"What about Myr?" questioned Aemon. And Rhaegar shook his head.
"Myr is a no-go for them. We have neutralized the city, the minute the Blakfyres or their allies set foot in the city they will be killed," and it was all thanks to Dorne and Lord Manderly who had developed deep connections in the city of Myr. Qyburn and his men had been stationed there and ordered to assassinate any Blackfyre ally that tried to escape to the city, as for those who had shown him support earlier. All of them had been managed.
Aemon once more scanned the map in front of him with a critical gaze trying to find any flaw in their strategy, yet he found none. So, in the end, he just sighed and nodded.
"Well, the plan seems reasonable, but are you sure you want to lead the armies again? I could take your place and you could stay here in the capital," Aemon offered. And with the birth of his son, a part of him was quite tempted to take the offer. He was acutely aware of his brother's leadership abilities and knew that he could lead an army as well as.
Yet it was his duty, not his brothers. Plus, in this way, Aemon might be able to spend more time with a certain Stark lady. Even now, the capital was filled with rumors about their scandalous romance, and Rhaegar had talked with Eddard and had sent a letter to Brandon Stark surveying the possibility of a probable match between Aemon and Lyanna.
The response was yet to come, but Rhaegar imagined it would be anything but positive. After all, which house would turn down a Royal match, especially one to a prince who was set to inherit a whole city?
"No, this is my job. You should stay in the capital and handle things here," Rhaegar added, and Aemon nodded. They both sat down as Aemon reached for a missive placed on the desk, this had been handed to them by Qyburn earlier.
"Did you see this?" questioned Aemon as he passed the missive to him. Rhaegar took it and skimmed through it and nodded.
"I have, it's about that rogue Septon, causing trouble in the Riverlands," Rhaegar summarized, and Aemon nodded a frown appearing on his face. Qyburn was the unofficial Master of Whispers to the crown and gave his reports directly to them.
This rogue septon had been on his radar for quite some time, the man portrayed himself as a simple septon and tried to show himself as a man of religion. Yet one look at his so-called sermons told of a much sinister and complicated plot. A plot to reestablish the banned faith militants. Something they could never let happen.
"Have you contacted the High Septon about this?" questioned Rhaegar and Aemon nodded.
"I have and the man denies any connection to this man, though one of the Septon did mention that this so-called Sparrow who is often seen with this rogue Septon was once a resident of Kingslanding," and Rhaegar frowned at that.
"So, what do we do?" Rhaegar questioned. It was a matter relating to religion that meant it needed to be handled appropriately, for they could not have a religious crusade at this time.
"Qyburn is trying to find out more about this so-called 'Preacher' yet there is no doubt in my mind that this Sparrow character is a zealot and that makes things troublesome," concluded Aemon as he leaned back into his seat.
"We could kill them," Rhaegar proposed and Aemon shook his head.
"They have support from the people and if we move in with the army to kill them it would make a scene, if either of them succeeds in escaping it could backfire on us," argued Aemon and he was right.
"We need to shift the focus away from the religion, to something that makes the people turn against them," muttered Aemon, and Rhaegar smiled as he saw the wheels turning in his brother's mind scheming away.
Well, it was his hassle.
"Well, then I will leave it to you, the armies are already ready, and I plan to leave in the next two days, but before I depart, I have something for you," Rhaegar informed him, and Aemon perked up at that.
House Targaryen had come into quite a fortune in the last year. From a house without a single Valyrian steel blade to one with two blades and then some Valyrian steel to spare.
The metal Aemon had brought back from his journey had been enough to produce a blade, a short one that he planned to give to his dear sister, yet that still left him with Red Rain.
He reached for the blade he had gotten back from the smith, Tobho Mott was the finest smith in the realm and one of the few who possessed the knowledge to rework Valyrian steel.
Rhaeagar brought out the blade and placed it on the table, and saw Aemon's eyes widen.
"With the return of Blackfyre, I already have a Valyrian Steel sword for myself, and with the metal you brought back, I am having one worked for Daenys. This, however, is for you," Rhaegar said as he unsheathed the blade. Its pommel had been reworked and was shaped like a dragon now, with a red shining emerald decorating the pommel. The hue of the emerald matched the red hue of the blade itself and he saw his brother's eyes gleam over the blade in fascination as Rhaegar held it out for him.
"Red Rain?" his brother questioned, and Rhaegar nodded.
"Indeed, but it has been reworked, and I had hoped you would consider my suggestion for its new name," Rhaegar remarked and Aemon looked up at him with a questioning gaze, gesturing for him to continue.
"Winters bane, I had hoped you would call it that," Rhaegar spoke and saw Aemon's gaze shift to the blade once more.
"Winters bane, I like that name!"
0000
In a run-down village deep into the Riverlands.
In the seven Kingdoms, there was a place teeming with reivers large and small as they carved through the rich and lush fields and castles to give the region its iconic name, Riverlands.
"The previous King called himself a pious man, yet even he was misguided!" spoke the young Septon standing in front of a small crowd standing outside the sept, as his fellow's sections distributed free soup and bread for the homeless and the destitute. The sept ran these soup kitchens twice a week and for many, it was their only sustenance for the days ahead.
The young septons and septas speaking up weren't ordinary as well, they were called Sparrows, named after the innocuous little bird loved by the children. It was a homage to their leader, the one they called High Sparrow, a pious man who dressed in rags and gave away all he could to the people.
"The Royal family call themselves followers of the Seven. They are anointed in their light. Yet they refuse to follow the commandments of the faith!" shouted the man. And the crowd's reaction was minimal at this, for who would dare speak against their King and liege? It would be treason.
The people in the crowd looked at each other, a bit queasy as two men stood behind and watched the young septon continue.
"The Royal family builds septs and does charity a plenty, yet they refuse to let us spread the word of the Seven across the heathen lands of the North. They refuse to let us have shields and swords to protect ourselves against the heathens that live in lands to our North," the Septon spoke in a resigned and beggaring tone, losing all the confrontational aggression from earlier.
"The word of the Seven is sacred, and we all must do our duty in spreading it to all those who yet remain buried in the darkness of ignorance so they can be brought into the light as well," continued the man.
Behind him, the two men vanished into the forest nearby. Both of them had now taken off their hoods. They were dressed in quite contrasting ways. With one of them having a balding head with white hair. A haggard face, along with callused hands, spoke of hard labor, he was thing speaking of hunger and inconsistency in his meals as he walked barefooted on the ground, his sandals given to one of the poor men he had met on the way. Yet his eyes were sharp, blue in color, and they had depths to them much like the depths of the Sea, and showed an unrelenting intelligence. And why wouldn't they, for you don't become a leader of a whole religious sect without having an impressive intellect.
"The new child is good, though I believe he was a bit too rash in his words. The Royal family will not take it fondly if they hear such words being spoken about them," said the High Sparrow, his voice smooth and light like a light morning breeze. It was as if he could calm down the world with his voice. The man beside him was dressed in opulence, covered in a fine leather doublet and a lavish woolen cloak with his hair slicked back. The man's facial features were sharp, and he would have been considered beautiful if not for his height, which only put him near the shoulders of the High Sparrow.
"Perhaps, but why will the Royal family care about what goes on in some backhand village of Riverrun? Still the young man had tact enough to change his tone when he saw how the people reacted to his words," the Preacher remarked, and High Sparrow nodded. Though internally, he was angry at the young man and had plans to rectify his behavior already forming in his head, for if the Royal family got wind of this, they would crush it all destroying all his hard work.
"Indeed, he is young yet he shows potential," added the High Sparrow as they came to a halt and two men stepped forward, carrying a wooden chest which they began to carry towards the Sept.
"This is the Gold for this month, I believe this will be enough to have the broken sept repaired and renovated," said the Preacher, and the High Sparrow nodded.
"Indeed, but have you received permission from Lord Houster, we cannot have a repeat of the incident that happened with Lord Blackwood," and the shorter man nodded, wincing as he thought about their run in with Lord Blackwood, a land which predominantly housed people who worshipped the Old Gods, the people and the Lord had not taken it kindly when they had tried to repair the septs there and had forced them to leave his lands under the threat of death.
The man would have killed them had Lord Edmure not intervened on their behalf, ordering the man to spare their lives. Now, since their expulsion, there were reports of crime becoming quite rampant in Blackwood lands, with their villages continuously getting attacked by bandits and thieves.
A tragedy, but one which they had brought upon themselves out of their own accord when they had refused to let them preach the word of the Seven in their lands.
"This is signed by Lord Edmure and bears his seal. I believe this would be enough to begin work," began the so-called preacher, and High Sparrow nodded as he took the scroll.
"Yes, this shall do," he said as he pocketed the scroll, before he looked up again.
"Now, tell me how are things in Kinglanding? It has been quite some time since I last heard of the city," asked the High Sparrow, and the shorter man's eyes narrowed.
"The City has changed quite a bit. Despite the doubts the previous King has expanded the city and now it is twice as large with work still being done. Yet the place now also teems with heathens, the King has allowed other faiths to build their places of worship as well, and now there was even a Red Temple in one of the districts," though there was reason to suspect that the King had made them swear on certain things before giving them this allowance, and he found the priests in the temple rather mild in comparison to their Pentoshi counterparts who were said to burn children in the name of their lord.
"Such tragedy, the previous King was quite an able and quick-witted man, our work would be so much easier had he been just as enlightened," said the High Sparrow in a forlorn tone, making his squirm a bit.
King Rhaegar was his father's son and had learned the art of ruling under the man's watchful eyes. Unlike the young and budding Lord Edmure, the King's heir seemed content in following his father's legacy instead of trying to overreach.
Yet it wouldn't matter much. After all they had ingrained themselves deeply into the very social fabric of Riverlands, and it would be nearly impossible for anyone to completely root them out.
"Then I believe this is it, Lord Petyr. Though I hope I can get a glimpse of your famous sermon the next time we meet," said the High Sparrow as they walked up to his horse.
Internally he winced at that name, yet he smiled and took the offered hand with a smile.
"Perhaps, but I believe I gave up that name for my service to the Seven. I much prefer the name I got through my service to the Lords. So, I was hoping that you wouldn't spread it around," remarked Petyr, and the man's smile didn't change.
"Ahh, don't worry about it, my friend. None shall hear it from this mouth,"
"Seven blessings," said Petyr as he mounted his horse.
"Seven blessings," spoke the High sparrow, yet had he known about the source of the gold he had just received, he might have used a different set of words.
0000
A new enemy emerges! AN enemy with a weapon that could tear the whole realm apart!
As always, you can read ahead and support me on Patreon. Your support makes it possible for me to write. So, if possible, consider looking at my page and dropping a dime. It would mean a lot to me.
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ThunderBasilisk
Well Worn Bastion
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Goddamn more enemies!? Were the fuckers literally waiting for the king to die cause they know he'd kick their asses otherwise?
RandomDragon
I trust you know where the happy button is?
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Fuck…well fire and blood will be the theme of the day, and the royal family is going to tear apart these idiots because if everyone isn't United the white walkers are going to steam-roll the setting.
Chapter 21
Zeld
I trust you know where the happy button is?
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Chapter 21
Tyrion Lannister was the first dwarf to ever become a professor at the Royal University of Kingslanding, and the fact that a dwarf could reach such a rank in those times speaks volumes of the nature of King Aerys times.
Tyrion Lannister was amongst the first to join the King's ventures and would take full advantage of the grants and funding to travel the world, satisfying his natural curiosity and studying various cultures and religions of the world. The man is a polarizing figure and is often called a heretic in religious circles for his views on Religion and Divinity.
His work, 'An Understanding of Religions throughout the Worlds,' is a documentation of over three hundred religions he studied in his journies. The man is said to idolize King Aerys quite a bit, evidence of which can be found in his works. His greatest contributions are ideological rather than militaristic, especially in the late three hundred during times of religious strife, he was nominated as an arbitrator by the Crown and settled the growing disputes between the various religions, while also crafting regulations to separate religion from the state.
His works are often cited by Secularists and Atheists around the globe to this day and were considered a gold standard for studies of theology, statecraft, and policy-making for years, giving credence to King Aerys's words to the man.
"A very small man can cast a very large shadow."
(King Aerys to Tyrion Lannister)
0000
JAMIE LANNISTER
Jamie Lannister felt pride as he saw his brother sitting opposite him. The youngest Lannister sibling had been the third and last child of Tywin and Joanna Lannister, his complicated birth leaving their mother barren. Born with an affliction that rendered him to only a fraction of a man's height, his brother had sought to sharpen his other talents.
While Tyrion Lannister would never wield a sword or an axe, or become a knight his brother had been blessed with a sharp mind. And while their father had never truly been able to look beyond their brother's height, their mother had been a whole different story.
Their mother had adored Tyrion and his sharp wit and had encouraged him to carve out his own path. And when their brother had learned about the King's decision to establish another order of learned men, Tyrion had been amongst the first volunteers.
Many had expected that the King would refuse the request. Yet the King had enthusiastically accepted their brother's request and had allowed him to join his so-called university.
"How have you been, brother?" Jamie questioned as he sat down, letting his eyes roam across the room. The room was the private chambers of Tyrion and had been constructed with his height in mind, given the specially constructed furniture and ladder placed at the corner of the massive bookshelf.
"I have been well. What about you?" said Tyrion as he passed him a goblet of Arbor Gold, and Jamie raised his eyes at the offered vintage and looked at his brother, who gave a simple shrug.
"There are always perks to being the King's favorite Professor," remarked Tyrion, given that drinking was frowned upon in the University. And right now, they were in its premises, in the specially allotted rooms to the members of the institution.
Jamie smiled and took the offered glass, and leaned back in his seat as Tyrion sat opposite to him.
"It is good that you returned when you did. The King plans to leave for the Stepstones in a week," Jamie began, and Tyrion nodded.
"Yeah, I am glad as well. It has been quite some time since I last saw you," said Tyrion with a smile, and Jamie nodded. It had been nearly three years, and though they had kept in contact with each other through letters, they had not been able to meet each other owing to the fact that Tyrion had been busy traveling the world.
And he could see that his time in the capital had changed his brother. Tyrion had never truly thought lesser of himself because of his affliction yet it didn't mean that he wasn't affected by it. There had always been a sense of unease to their brother, yet now all hints of it were gone replaced by a sense of self-assuredness and confidence.
"Though, from the rumors o have been hearing, there is a chance that you might become a regular visitor to the capital," suddenly Tyrion added with a smile as he smiled cryptically, making Jamie sigh.
"So, the word has gotten out," he replied, and Tyrion nodded.
"Not yet," replied Tyrion and Jamie frowned as he took another sip of the wine.
"Then how do you know?" Jamie questioned.
"I learned about it from the Princess herself. She wrote to me asking me about you. She wanted to know a bit about the man her family was trying to marry her off to," and Jamie's eyes widened at it.
"You know Daenys," and saw Tyrion smirk.
"Daenys. Ohh, so you are already on a first-name basis. Good, and yes, me and the princess are friends, or at least she finds my company less boring than the bumbling harlots of courts," and Jamie was taken aback by his brother's words, yet stopped when Tyrion suddenly added.
"Her words, not mine," and that made him smile, after all, if he had learned one thing about Daenys, it was that she was no ordinary lady. And as he was lost in thought, a laugh from Tyrion broke him out of his trance.
"Ahh, it seems you are quite smitten with our dear Princess," added Tyrion much to his denial, as he simply continued.
"Though I will warn you, she would main you herself if you were to ever stray from her, let alone what the King and Prince and Aemon would do to you," warned Tyrion.
And Jamie nodded, that had been abundantly clear. Yet he was getting quite tired of this and spoke hurriedly.
"Leave that. Tell me about yourself. How's the life of a so-called 'Professor' and where have you been all these years?" and he saw Tyrion's eyes light up at his words.
"Ahh, it is quite a life. The university is a piece of art, and being a professor is quite adventurous I would say," and though Jamie knew what it meant to be a maester. The term professor still meant little to him.
"What exactly does it mean to be a professor?" questioned Jamie, and saw Tyrion think a bit before he replied.
"I would say it is like obtaining a Master's link, but instead of learning and memorizing aspects of a field, you must make a major discovery or contribution to it, it's a bit complicated to explain since they are still making the regulations but that is essentially it," added Tyrion as he jumped out of his chair.
"Come with me, I will give you a tour. Perhaps we might even catch Qyburn doing one of those operations," and Jamie followed along.
"Operations?" he questioned and saw Tyrion smile cryptically.
"Indeed, it is when he cuts open a man to heal him. It is quite fascinating," and at those words, Jamie paled a bit, thinking that his brother had really changed if he found cutting open a man fascinating.
0000
QYBURN
Qyburn often thought about his time at the citadel and reminisced about the day his whole life had changed. Blessed with rampant curiosity, he had given up his last name to join the order of the learned men to uncover the secrets of life and death. Yet for an order of such renown, he had been let down by their lack of curiosity and complacency.
His quest for answers had led to him experimenting on his own, trying to understand the very concept of death and its implication yet those 'Grey sheep' found his methods too bold and distasteful. To this day, he often found himself questioning how the Maesters had become aware of his experiments so quickly, and a part of him already knew the answer, yet he refused to acknowledge it, for it would taint the respect he held for the man he was sworn in service to.
He had thought that he would die poor after his untimely expulsion, yet just as he was about to depart to Bravos, he had been approached by the King's men with an offer. And with his single nod, his whole life had changed.
He was taken to King's Landing and met his employer, the reformist King Aerys. The man was much more intricate and complex than the bards made him out to be, and yet where the world saw a benevolent and just King, he saw a man burdened with secrets of the world. And what secrets they were.
They had never spoken about them, about how the man knew as much as he did of the world and how it worked on how the King would often give him directions about matters of science and magic, leading to discoveries that had shaken the whole world. Qyburn felt that it wasn't his place to question the man, for though the King may hold the answers to his countless queries, the true art of science lay in discovering the answers rather than simply knowing them.
Over the years, the King had entrusted him with several tasks that often caught him off guard. Yet Qyburn had simply done his duty, holding back the questions, yet the answers would reveal themselves.
Suddenly the door to his chambers was opened, and he hurriedly stood up despite knowing that the guards stationed outside were ordered to allow only a handful of people inside. And it was someone amongst that handful of people that had stepped inside his room.
Prince Aemon entered his chambers, wearing a cloak, his sword strapped to his side. The young Prince's eyes scanned the room before they landed on him, and Qyburn bowed in respect as he walked towards the Prince.
"What brings you here, my prince?" he questioned lightly as the Prince walked beyond his desk towards the massive map of Westeros hanging on the wall.
"Rhaegar has just left the port with the army to push back the Golden Company," began the Prince, his eyes scanning the room once more, this time hanging on to the various objects placed on the shelves. There were various vials placed on eh shelves along with a man's books and texts, many of those written by him.
"May the Gods bless the King, and show him victory in his endeavors," Qybrun commented, despite not entirely believing in those words. The Prince nodded, walked towards the chair, and sat down as he began once more.
"He has left me in charge of matters of the realm and I believe there is a certain matter that we need to take care of urgently," began the Prince as he took out a piece of Parchment and passed it onto him. Qyburn unfurled it and read the two names written on it.
"The Preacher and the High Sparrow?" he questioned and the Prince nodded.
"Indeed, though they hold little influence yet, I believe that if we let them move freely then we would have a major problem on our hands. So, it is time to take them out," spoke the Prince and Qyburn agreed with that assessment.
The two men had yet to cause any major trouble yet. However, there was little doubt that the men had ulterior and hidden motives behind their actions. Especially the one who called himself Preacher, for which pious man made his wealth from the rotten business of flesh.
"As you wish, my prince…" but the Prince's next words made him pause.
"And I had hoped that we could employ the Secret Order for this. I believe it is time for us to learn about the effectiveness of these 'Kingsmen' my father created," spoke the Prince, and now Qyburn understood the reason the Prince had joined him in his chambers.
The Secret Order, or the Kingsmen, was another one of the late King's creations. For as much as the Seven and the Maesters would deny the existence of magic, magic was a reality of their world. A reality that men often feared. Yet King Aerys had been no ordinary man.
"What are your orders, my Prince?" questioned Qyburn, and the Prince sat there impassively as he ordered.
"I want them to keep an eye on this High Sparrow and this Preacher, and be ready to take them out at a moment's notice," ordered the Prince, and Qyburn nodded.
"It will be done, my Prince. Though I believe I have new information in regard to these two men," began Qyburn as he handed the Prince a piece of parchment from his pocket. His informants had been keeping an eye on these two men for some time, and he had just received a report from them early in the morning.
He saw the Prince's eyes skim through the contents of the letter and saw his mind race as he placed it back on the table. Minutes passed as the Prince sat there, simply tapping the table as his mind raced to formulate the plan. Qyburn noticed with fascination as the Prince replicated the late King's tick, for he had often seen the King tap the table as he formulated a plan.
"This could be an opportunity to take them out," the Prince finally broke the silence, and Qyburn nodded, agreeing with the notion.
"Indeed, but it could be risky," cautioned Qyburn, yet the Prince just shrugged.
"Perhaps, but this is an opportunity we cannot miss. See to it that appropriate arrangements are made. Now, why don't you show me these so-called Kingsmen," ordered the Prince as he stood up.
"As you say, my prince," spoke Qyburn as he picked up a whistle from one of the drawers and blew on it gently. Yet surprisingly no sound was produced, at least not one they could hear. However, soon enough the door to his chambers was opened and a man entered the room dressed in light armor, the sigil of the three-headed dragon engraved on his chest plate, and immediately bowed upon seeing the Prince.
"We are yours to command, my prince," said the man in his thick voice. His accent still contained hints of his Northern descent.
This man was Wulfric, a warg the King had rescued and recruited while he had been a simple child. And now he was the leader of the Kingsmen.
0000
0000
The advancements in science and technology made in the reign of King Aerys resulted in the transformation of the whole world. It set the basis for a whole new way of understanding the way of life. This massive transformation of mankind is often attributed to King Aerys. It is important that we do not forget the man who was at the center of all this.
"Qyburn," the chainless Maester, the mad scientist, the first scientist. There are many names for him, yet none truly do justice to the sheer role played by man in the transformation of science as we know it. For his services, the Royal Family gave him the title of 'The First Professor' a homage to his position as the head of the University in its initial years.
He was said to be a man fascinated by the cycle of life and death, a man born with curiosity, and it is speculated that it was this curiosity that led him to the Citadel, where he sought to learn about the truth of Life and Death. Yet his approach was called too bold by the Order, which chose to expel him, only for King Aerys to intervene and bring the man under his service.
Qyburn would go on to serve the Royal Family with loyalty and would serve as the unofficial Master of Whisperers. Apart from his scientific discoveries, the man would re-establish the order of the Dragon Keepers in secret, on the orders of King Aerys, however, his most controversial achievement would be the creation of the 'Order of the Kingsmen.'
Kingsmen were a secretive order formed under the supervision of King Aerys and was comprised of individuals gifted by the Gods. Men and women who had been gifted with the arcane art of Magic. It was a small order composed of wargs and skin changers. The order would act as the Royal Family's eyes and ears, supplementing the role of Master of Whisperers for some time before getting recognized as a separate entity in the late four hundreds.
The order would remain a secret until the 'Rebellion of the White Lotus' in 887, when the leader of the order at the time would try to rise up against the Royal Family. Her attempt would remain unsuccessful, and she and her allies would be killed by King Rhaeagr III, who would then go on to end the Kingsmen.
Many believe that the order exists to this day and acts as a spy agency for the Royal family, ensuring their safety and dominance in the world. The Royal Family has never addressed these concerns.
Many novels and films have taken inspiration from these historical figures and organizations. Qyburn is said to have inspired the infamous 'Dr. Frankenstein' and several other cinematic characters.
0000
Tyrion is a scholar! He was one of the smartest characters in the series, and I think the role of a scholar quite suits him. He was always curious and wanted to see the world, and I think this works well for him. His role in the future would be kind of like an Ambassador/Lawyer with a focus on religion and statecraft.
As always, you can read ahead and support me on Patreon. Your support makes it possible for me to write these stories. So, if possible, consider having a look and dropping a dime if you can. It would help me out a lot.
www.Patreon.com/Drkest
Thanks for reading!
Tyrion Lannister was the first dwarf to ever become a professor at the Royal University of Kingslanding, and the fact that a dwarf could reach such a rank in those times speaks volumes of the nature of King Aerys times.
Tyrion Lannister was amongst the first to join the King's ventures and would take full advantage of the grants and funding to travel the world, satisfying his natural curiosity and studying various cultures and religions of the world. The man is a polarizing figure and is often called a heretic in religious circles for his views on Religion and Divinity.
His work, 'An Understanding of Religions throughout the Worlds,' is a documentation of over three hundred religions he studied in his journies. The man is said to idolize King Aerys quite a bit, evidence of which can be found in his works. His greatest contributions are ideological rather than militaristic, especially in the late three hundred during times of religious strife, he was nominated as an arbitrator by the Crown and settled the growing disputes between the various religions, while also crafting regulations to separate religion from the state.
His works are often cited by Secularists and Atheists around the globe to this day and were considered a gold standard for studies of theology, statecraft, and policy-making for years, giving credence to King Aerys's words to the man.
"A very small man can cast a very large shadow."
(King Aerys to Tyrion Lannister)
0000
JAMIE LANNISTER
Jamie Lannister felt pride as he saw his brother sitting opposite him. The youngest Lannister sibling had been the third and last child of Tywin and Joanna Lannister, his complicated birth leaving their mother barren. Born with an affliction that rendered him to only a fraction of a man's height, his brother had sought to sharpen his other talents.
While Tyrion Lannister would never wield a sword or an axe, or become a knight his brother had been blessed with a sharp mind. And while their father had never truly been able to look beyond their brother's height, their mother had been a whole different story.
Their mother had adored Tyrion and his sharp wit and had encouraged him to carve out his own path. And when their brother had learned about the King's decision to establish another order of learned men, Tyrion had been amongst the first volunteers.
Many had expected that the King would refuse the request. Yet the King had enthusiastically accepted their brother's request and had allowed him to join his so-called university.
"How have you been, brother?" Jamie questioned as he sat down, letting his eyes roam across the room. The room was the private chambers of Tyrion and had been constructed with his height in mind, given the specially constructed furniture and ladder placed at the corner of the massive bookshelf.
"I have been well. What about you?" said Tyrion as he passed him a goblet of Arbor Gold, and Jamie raised his eyes at the offered vintage and looked at his brother, who gave a simple shrug.
"There are always perks to being the King's favorite Professor," remarked Tyrion, given that drinking was frowned upon in the University. And right now, they were in its premises, in the specially allotted rooms to the members of the institution.
Jamie smiled and took the offered glass, and leaned back in his seat as Tyrion sat opposite to him.
"It is good that you returned when you did. The King plans to leave for the Stepstones in a week," Jamie began, and Tyrion nodded.
"Yeah, I am glad as well. It has been quite some time since I last saw you," said Tyrion with a smile, and Jamie nodded. It had been nearly three years, and though they had kept in contact with each other through letters, they had not been able to meet each other owing to the fact that Tyrion had been busy traveling the world.
And he could see that his time in the capital had changed his brother. Tyrion had never truly thought lesser of himself because of his affliction yet it didn't mean that he wasn't affected by it. There had always been a sense of unease to their brother, yet now all hints of it were gone replaced by a sense of self-assuredness and confidence.
"Though, from the rumors o have been hearing, there is a chance that you might become a regular visitor to the capital," suddenly Tyrion added with a smile as he smiled cryptically, making Jamie sigh.
"So, the word has gotten out," he replied, and Tyrion nodded.
"Not yet," replied Tyrion and Jamie frowned as he took another sip of the wine.
"Then how do you know?" Jamie questioned.
"I learned about it from the Princess herself. She wrote to me asking me about you. She wanted to know a bit about the man her family was trying to marry her off to," and Jamie's eyes widened at it.
"You know Daenys," and saw Tyrion smirk.
"Daenys. Ohh, so you are already on a first-name basis. Good, and yes, me and the princess are friends, or at least she finds my company less boring than the bumbling harlots of courts," and Jamie was taken aback by his brother's words, yet stopped when Tyrion suddenly added.
"Her words, not mine," and that made him smile, after all, if he had learned one thing about Daenys, it was that she was no ordinary lady. And as he was lost in thought, a laugh from Tyrion broke him out of his trance.
"Ahh, it seems you are quite smitten with our dear Princess," added Tyrion much to his denial, as he simply continued.
"Though I will warn you, she would main you herself if you were to ever stray from her, let alone what the King and Prince and Aemon would do to you," warned Tyrion.
And Jamie nodded, that had been abundantly clear. Yet he was getting quite tired of this and spoke hurriedly.
"Leave that. Tell me about yourself. How's the life of a so-called 'Professor' and where have you been all these years?" and he saw Tyrion's eyes light up at his words.
"Ahh, it is quite a life. The university is a piece of art, and being a professor is quite adventurous I would say," and though Jamie knew what it meant to be a maester. The term professor still meant little to him.
"What exactly does it mean to be a professor?" questioned Jamie, and saw Tyrion think a bit before he replied.
"I would say it is like obtaining a Master's link, but instead of learning and memorizing aspects of a field, you must make a major discovery or contribution to it, it's a bit complicated to explain since they are still making the regulations but that is essentially it," added Tyrion as he jumped out of his chair.
"Come with me, I will give you a tour. Perhaps we might even catch Qyburn doing one of those operations," and Jamie followed along.
"Operations?" he questioned and saw Tyrion smile cryptically.
"Indeed, it is when he cuts open a man to heal him. It is quite fascinating," and at those words, Jamie paled a bit, thinking that his brother had really changed if he found cutting open a man fascinating.
0000
QYBURN
Qyburn often thought about his time at the citadel and reminisced about the day his whole life had changed. Blessed with rampant curiosity, he had given up his last name to join the order of the learned men to uncover the secrets of life and death. Yet for an order of such renown, he had been let down by their lack of curiosity and complacency.
His quest for answers had led to him experimenting on his own, trying to understand the very concept of death and its implication yet those 'Grey sheep' found his methods too bold and distasteful. To this day, he often found himself questioning how the Maesters had become aware of his experiments so quickly, and a part of him already knew the answer, yet he refused to acknowledge it, for it would taint the respect he held for the man he was sworn in service to.
He had thought that he would die poor after his untimely expulsion, yet just as he was about to depart to Bravos, he had been approached by the King's men with an offer. And with his single nod, his whole life had changed.
He was taken to King's Landing and met his employer, the reformist King Aerys. The man was much more intricate and complex than the bards made him out to be, and yet where the world saw a benevolent and just King, he saw a man burdened with secrets of the world. And what secrets they were.
They had never spoken about them, about how the man knew as much as he did of the world and how it worked on how the King would often give him directions about matters of science and magic, leading to discoveries that had shaken the whole world. Qyburn felt that it wasn't his place to question the man, for though the King may hold the answers to his countless queries, the true art of science lay in discovering the answers rather than simply knowing them.
Over the years, the King had entrusted him with several tasks that often caught him off guard. Yet Qyburn had simply done his duty, holding back the questions, yet the answers would reveal themselves.
Suddenly the door to his chambers was opened, and he hurriedly stood up despite knowing that the guards stationed outside were ordered to allow only a handful of people inside. And it was someone amongst that handful of people that had stepped inside his room.
Prince Aemon entered his chambers, wearing a cloak, his sword strapped to his side. The young Prince's eyes scanned the room before they landed on him, and Qyburn bowed in respect as he walked towards the Prince.
"What brings you here, my prince?" he questioned lightly as the Prince walked beyond his desk towards the massive map of Westeros hanging on the wall.
"Rhaegar has just left the port with the army to push back the Golden Company," began the Prince, his eyes scanning the room once more, this time hanging on to the various objects placed on the shelves. There were various vials placed on eh shelves along with a man's books and texts, many of those written by him.
"May the Gods bless the King, and show him victory in his endeavors," Qybrun commented, despite not entirely believing in those words. The Prince nodded, walked towards the chair, and sat down as he began once more.
"He has left me in charge of matters of the realm and I believe there is a certain matter that we need to take care of urgently," began the Prince as he took out a piece of Parchment and passed it onto him. Qyburn unfurled it and read the two names written on it.
"The Preacher and the High Sparrow?" he questioned and the Prince nodded.
"Indeed, though they hold little influence yet, I believe that if we let them move freely then we would have a major problem on our hands. So, it is time to take them out," spoke the Prince and Qyburn agreed with that assessment.
The two men had yet to cause any major trouble yet. However, there was little doubt that the men had ulterior and hidden motives behind their actions. Especially the one who called himself Preacher, for which pious man made his wealth from the rotten business of flesh.
"As you wish, my prince…" but the Prince's next words made him pause.
"And I had hoped that we could employ the Secret Order for this. I believe it is time for us to learn about the effectiveness of these 'Kingsmen' my father created," spoke the Prince, and now Qyburn understood the reason the Prince had joined him in his chambers.
The Secret Order, or the Kingsmen, was another one of the late King's creations. For as much as the Seven and the Maesters would deny the existence of magic, magic was a reality of their world. A reality that men often feared. Yet King Aerys had been no ordinary man.
"What are your orders, my Prince?" questioned Qyburn, and the Prince sat there impassively as he ordered.
"I want them to keep an eye on this High Sparrow and this Preacher, and be ready to take them out at a moment's notice," ordered the Prince, and Qyburn nodded.
"It will be done, my Prince. Though I believe I have new information in regard to these two men," began Qyburn as he handed the Prince a piece of parchment from his pocket. His informants had been keeping an eye on these two men for some time, and he had just received a report from them early in the morning.
He saw the Prince's eyes skim through the contents of the letter and saw his mind race as he placed it back on the table. Minutes passed as the Prince sat there, simply tapping the table as his mind raced to formulate the plan. Qyburn noticed with fascination as the Prince replicated the late King's tick, for he had often seen the King tap the table as he formulated a plan.
"This could be an opportunity to take them out," the Prince finally broke the silence, and Qyburn nodded, agreeing with the notion.
"Indeed, but it could be risky," cautioned Qyburn, yet the Prince just shrugged.
"Perhaps, but this is an opportunity we cannot miss. See to it that appropriate arrangements are made. Now, why don't you show me these so-called Kingsmen," ordered the Prince as he stood up.
"As you say, my prince," spoke Qyburn as he picked up a whistle from one of the drawers and blew on it gently. Yet surprisingly no sound was produced, at least not one they could hear. However, soon enough the door to his chambers was opened and a man entered the room dressed in light armor, the sigil of the three-headed dragon engraved on his chest plate, and immediately bowed upon seeing the Prince.
"We are yours to command, my prince," said the man in his thick voice. His accent still contained hints of his Northern descent.
This man was Wulfric, a warg the King had rescued and recruited while he had been a simple child. And now he was the leader of the Kingsmen.
0000
0000
The advancements in science and technology made in the reign of King Aerys resulted in the transformation of the whole world. It set the basis for a whole new way of understanding the way of life. This massive transformation of mankind is often attributed to King Aerys. It is important that we do not forget the man who was at the center of all this.
"Qyburn," the chainless Maester, the mad scientist, the first scientist. There are many names for him, yet none truly do justice to the sheer role played by man in the transformation of science as we know it. For his services, the Royal Family gave him the title of 'The First Professor' a homage to his position as the head of the University in its initial years.
He was said to be a man fascinated by the cycle of life and death, a man born with curiosity, and it is speculated that it was this curiosity that led him to the Citadel, where he sought to learn about the truth of Life and Death. Yet his approach was called too bold by the Order, which chose to expel him, only for King Aerys to intervene and bring the man under his service.
Qyburn would go on to serve the Royal Family with loyalty and would serve as the unofficial Master of Whisperers. Apart from his scientific discoveries, the man would re-establish the order of the Dragon Keepers in secret, on the orders of King Aerys, however, his most controversial achievement would be the creation of the 'Order of the Kingsmen.'
Kingsmen were a secretive order formed under the supervision of King Aerys and was comprised of individuals gifted by the Gods. Men and women who had been gifted with the arcane art of Magic. It was a small order composed of wargs and skin changers. The order would act as the Royal Family's eyes and ears, supplementing the role of Master of Whisperers for some time before getting recognized as a separate entity in the late four hundreds.
The order would remain a secret until the 'Rebellion of the White Lotus' in 887, when the leader of the order at the time would try to rise up against the Royal Family. Her attempt would remain unsuccessful, and she and her allies would be killed by King Rhaeagr III, who would then go on to end the Kingsmen.
Many believe that the order exists to this day and acts as a spy agency for the Royal family, ensuring their safety and dominance in the world. The Royal Family has never addressed these concerns.
Many novels and films have taken inspiration from these historical figures and organizations. Qyburn is said to have inspired the infamous 'Dr. Frankenstein' and several other cinematic characters.
0000
Tyrion is a scholar! He was one of the smartest characters in the series, and I think the role of a scholar quite suits him. He was always curious and wanted to see the world, and I think this works well for him. His role in the future would be kind of like an Ambassador/Lawyer with a focus on religion and statecraft.
As always, you can read ahead and support me on Patreon. Your support makes it possible for me to write these stories. So, if possible, consider having a look and dropping a dime if you can. It would help me out a lot.
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Thanks for reading!
ThunderBasilisk
Well Worn Bastion
- Joined
- Mar 23, 2020
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Looks like Tyrions doing well for himself in this timeline. Good for him.
Chapter 22
Zeld
I trust you know where the happy button is?
- Joined
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Chapter 22
Mance Rayder, The King Beyond the Wall, was quite an interesting character. Born by the union of a Free Folk woman and a man of the Night's Watch, the man's origins were quite complex. After the Night's Watch killed a wildling village, they took the young boy with them and raised him at the wall where he would grow up and join the Watch, donning its Black Cloak.
Yet the nature of his duties and a personal incident with a wildling woman would leave him questioning his identity and his oaths, prompting his eventual escape from the Wall as he joined the Free Folk.
He would obtain considerable influence amongst their ranks and would go on to become a prominent leader amongst them. When King Aerys sent an entourage to the North of the Wall, they were said to have made contact with Mance Rayder and offered him a chance to trade with the capital.
What the wildlings gave in return is still a mystery, but it is documented that the King gave them food and weapons, especially those made out of dragon glass, and this helped Mance Rayder begin repairs at the broken castle of Hardhome.
Mance would receive support from various Free Fold tribes, who would stop trying to venture past the Wall and would join him in forming a settlement at Hardhome, giving Mance the title of the King Beyond the Wall. A title in name only for the man would hold no castles and wear no crown on his head.
The castle of Hardhome would provide respite to the free folk, yet the Free folk were more than a few tribes. They were a culture, and despite the repaired castle, many would continue to live out in their wandering ways.
The lands beyond the North were rife with magic, with the lands filled with creatures of myth and legends, like the dire wolves and the giants. Remnants of these creatures have been found, and their presence can be confirmed through various texts of histories and they would go on to play quite an important role in the war to come.
0000
MANCE RAYDER
What made a man a king? A crown. A sigil. A castle. His sword. Or a fine garb made of silk and cotton.
None of the above could be true for Mance had none of these things yet was called a King by many in the land. And so he decided that it was men and their dream of a better future that made someone a King.
And a King must have the cunning and the daring to do things that regular men would never dream of doing. And it had been this sentiment that had made Mance parley with the men who had come to the North all those years ago.
Men from the crown who accompanied the Lord Commander of the Crows and asked for a parley bringing with them a letter from the Crown itself. His people had thought it ploy, to kill the man who had united the free folks. They had advised him to ignore the call to parley, yet Mance had ignored their concerns and had trusted his gut, agreeing to the parley.
And that decision had changed his life. And the life of the free folks.
With the Northern winds eating up their lands the Free folk had been suffering greatly from a lack of food and other resources with the whites expanding uncontrollably, their shields and swords providing little assistance in the battle against the monsters of the legends.
The King's offer had been a blessing for them, a chance to obtain a steady supply of food and materials to make Hardhome liveable again, all at the cost of cessation of raids across the wall and the murder of one exiled and disgraced crow. The King had wanted more, offering gold and knighthoods to those among them blessed with gifts of warging, yet few trusted such an offer at first.
In the end, they had decided to wait, leaving the offer open for any who would wish to serve the King on the other side of the Wall. He had thought it all a hoax, much like most of his men.
Yet when a shipping vessel landed on the shores of their lands, loaded with grain and metals, he realized that the offer was made in good faith and that the King on the other side of the Wall was quite an enigmatic man.
The free folk had rejoiced, relishing the relative abundance of food as they began to repair the castle of Hardhome. And then the Kings men had met with him a second time, reiterating the offer of gold and glory to those blessed with the ability of warging, while they handed him a wooden chest.
"The King has sent this as a gift, to deal with your colder problems," the man had said as he had opened the chest, and right there lay weapons made out of obsidian. He had frowned at the gift, failing to understand the significance behind it, yet when he did everything began to make sense.
Those weapons were supposed to deal with the wights. Yet how did a king thousands of miles away came to know about these creatures was a mystery. It was at least until he recalled the legend of the dreamer herself, and realized that the King was perhaps blessed in the same manner as his storied ancestor.
KNOCK. KNOCK.
He was broken out of his thoughts by a knock on the door of his room, and he looked up to find a blonde woman entering her solar. Val, with her flowing blonde hair, entered his room, followed by a couple of gruff-looking men, with one of them still biting a chicken hungrily as juices dripped down his red beard.
The other man was bald, his figure towering over the other, his body littered with scars and wounds from his various battles. Three Mance had fought against the man before he had finally decided to support him as King Beyond the Wall. He was the Magnar of Thenns, Styr.
"You told me you wanted to see them as soon as they returned," said Val in her unimpressed tone and he saw Tormund's gaze linger on the blonde hungrily, though he was aware that the man had little chance of stealing her wife's sister given her skill with a blade.
"Yeah, she wouldn't even let us eat in peace," snarled Styr, and Val just shrugged and then left the room quickly, leaving him alone with his two most trusted men.
Tormund Grisbane and Styr of Thenn were two of his most trusted men, and he had given them a specific mission. The two men sat down gruffly, with Tormund still biting into his chicken hungrily, as Styr gave the man a look of disapproval.
"So, tell me, how much time do we have?" he questioned, getting to the crux of the matter quickly since he could see that both of them were quite exhausted and probably in need of a good rest, after their months of ranging into the perilous lands of the true North.
The two men stilled at his question. The whites had been becoming more and more dangerous with each passing day, killing and converting the hundreds of roaming free folks, adding them to their numbers.
"A year, two at most. But they are becoming more and more active Manse," began Styr, and Mance nodded, and felt a sense of dread at the shortage of time they had.
"They are coming for us, Mance," cut in Tormund in his grave tone, and while there was no fear in the man's eyes, there was a sense of worry. Something which he shared. For what man would wish for a fate of servitude even after his death?
"Will the King keep his promise? Will he give us safe passage when the time comes?" questioned Thenn and there wasn't a need to question which King he was talking about, given that none really called him King this side of the wall.
He sighed at the question, as he slowly answered his question.
"The King is dead!"
0000
EDDARD STARK
Eddard Stark rode his horse hard as he made his way through eh Riverlands. With the King gone, there was little purpose to him staying in the capital. Unlike his sister, who had chosen to stay behind, her betrothal to Prince Aemon was all but final now since Brandon had given his assent to the match.
And Eddard smiled as he thought of his sister, and how unlike she had behaved when he had broached the topic of the betrothal with her. It was hard to imagine that it was the same girl who had threatened to run off to Bravos when Brandon had approached the matter with her merely months ago about a probable match with Edumre Tully.
"Look at that my lord," spoke one of his guards, and Eddard looked up and frowned as he saw smoke rising from ahead.
"It seems like something is burning," he spoke out as he pulled on the reins of his horse making it slow down as he turned it towards the smoke, planning to see what exactly was going on.
"Let us see what is going on," he said and his half a dozen guards nodded and began to follow him, as they made their way toward the source of the smoke.
As they rode past the forest, they realized that it was a rather small village, with some patches of land under the farm and about a dozen or two wooden houses situated here and there.
They finally saw the source of the smoke as they came upon a small hoard of people centered around a massive tree with pitchforks and axes in their hands. Eddard saw his guards tense up at the scene as their hands went to their swords instinctively, as they neared the hoard.
At the center of the crowd stood a man clad in a full robe, holding a sword, with the symbol of the seven-pointed star cut into his forehead.
"They are heathens! And it is our duty as god-fearing men to bring lead them to light! And if they shall refuse to mend their ways, then we shall do what is necessary to keep our lands pure!" shouted the septon, as the crowd cheered, and Eddard finally saw a family lying on the ground with their arms and legs tied as the tree behind them burned.
"It's a wierwood tree," spoke one of his guards with a gasp as he pointed towards the carved face on the tree. And suddenly, it became clear what exactly was going on.
"But aren't these Blackwood lands? The Blackwoods hold to the Old Gods, unlike the rest of the Riverlands," cut in one of the other guards.
"Burn them! Burn their heathen gods!" shouted the crowd, and suddenly one of their horses sneezed making the crowd turn towards them.
"It's a lord! Run!"
"Look at that sigil! It's a direwolf!"
"It's another one of those heathens!"
Eddard saw the Septon turn towards them in panic as the crowd became unsettled by their appearance, and before he could cut in, his guards took out their swords.
"THEY ARE GOING TO KILL US!" "RUN"
And in that pandemonium, he saw the Septon point towards them and shout.
"THOSE HEATHENS WANT TO STOP US FROM DOING THE WORK OF THE SEVEN! YET WE CANNOT BACK DOWN!"
The crowd rallied at his call, and Eddard felt dread pool in his gut as he saw the crowd turn towards him.
"Let us show them that we have the seven at our back and fear no lord or their sword!" the Septon shouted as some of the zealots rushed towards him. His guards were quick to react and despite his shout.
"NO, Don't kill them!" They struck down the two men, removing their heads from their bodies, and spraying blood everywhere.
The head of the guards seemed to realize their predicament finally and shouted.
"You need to get out of here Lord Eddard!" shouted Duncan as the crowd rushed towards him and his men in their rage, as the septon egged them on from behind.
0000
SAERA BLACKFYRE
Saera Blackfyre stood on the deck of the massive war galley, observing the men below her. The Golden Company was the most famous mercenary company for a reason, and it showed. While most companies failed to arm their men with reasonable armor, the company's men were well-equipped. Each man wore simple armor with some strapped in full plate, polishing their swords as they neared the infamous island of Bloodstone.
She heard the sound of footsteps from behind herself, and she didn't need to look back, to know who had come to meet her.
"Do you really think that this is the only way?" she questioned, in a mix of rage and trepidation. They had underestimated Aerys and his sons.
They had acted quicker than they had realized and had cut off their escape route to Tyrosh with Randyll Tarly, the King's infamous general leading an army, sacking the city, and rooting out their supporters.
Had Daemon not recognized the sigil on those ships, the man would have caught them and would probably have been killed, bringing an end to their struggle.
"Yes, by now, Randall Tarly would have captured all our supporters in the City. We have no choice but to act now," replied her brother, and she nodded. Yet they were desperate.
She looked straight ahead at the massive island. The island of Bloodstone stood there, a stronghold for the Targaryens, under the command of their cousin and Lord of Storm's end, Robert Baratheon, a giant of a man said to wield a massive Warhammer.
"Do you think we will win?" she questioned as the wind blew past her face, and she felt a gentle hand on her shoulder as her brother nodded.
"Yes. Yes, we will," he replied as she felt the massive ship slow down as they neared the island. Even without a spyglass, she could see the assembled Royal army right there, four thousand or so armored men standing there to end this war.
She saw her brother walk to the front of their ship, clad in full black armor, with a sword strapped to his side. Prepared for battle as the men of the Golden Company rallied behind them.
"And now it finally begins!"
0000
As always, you can read ahead and support me on Patreon. Your support makes it possible for me to write these stories. So, if possible, consider having a look and dropping a dime or two if you can. It would mean a lot to me.
www.Patreon.com/Drkest
Thanks for reading!
Mance Rayder, The King Beyond the Wall, was quite an interesting character. Born by the union of a Free Folk woman and a man of the Night's Watch, the man's origins were quite complex. After the Night's Watch killed a wildling village, they took the young boy with them and raised him at the wall where he would grow up and join the Watch, donning its Black Cloak.
Yet the nature of his duties and a personal incident with a wildling woman would leave him questioning his identity and his oaths, prompting his eventual escape from the Wall as he joined the Free Folk.
He would obtain considerable influence amongst their ranks and would go on to become a prominent leader amongst them. When King Aerys sent an entourage to the North of the Wall, they were said to have made contact with Mance Rayder and offered him a chance to trade with the capital.
What the wildlings gave in return is still a mystery, but it is documented that the King gave them food and weapons, especially those made out of dragon glass, and this helped Mance Rayder begin repairs at the broken castle of Hardhome.
Mance would receive support from various Free Fold tribes, who would stop trying to venture past the Wall and would join him in forming a settlement at Hardhome, giving Mance the title of the King Beyond the Wall. A title in name only for the man would hold no castles and wear no crown on his head.
The castle of Hardhome would provide respite to the free folk, yet the Free folk were more than a few tribes. They were a culture, and despite the repaired castle, many would continue to live out in their wandering ways.
The lands beyond the North were rife with magic, with the lands filled with creatures of myth and legends, like the dire wolves and the giants. Remnants of these creatures have been found, and their presence can be confirmed through various texts of histories and they would go on to play quite an important role in the war to come.
0000
MANCE RAYDER
What made a man a king? A crown. A sigil. A castle. His sword. Or a fine garb made of silk and cotton.
None of the above could be true for Mance had none of these things yet was called a King by many in the land. And so he decided that it was men and their dream of a better future that made someone a King.
And a King must have the cunning and the daring to do things that regular men would never dream of doing. And it had been this sentiment that had made Mance parley with the men who had come to the North all those years ago.
Men from the crown who accompanied the Lord Commander of the Crows and asked for a parley bringing with them a letter from the Crown itself. His people had thought it ploy, to kill the man who had united the free folks. They had advised him to ignore the call to parley, yet Mance had ignored their concerns and had trusted his gut, agreeing to the parley.
And that decision had changed his life. And the life of the free folks.
With the Northern winds eating up their lands the Free folk had been suffering greatly from a lack of food and other resources with the whites expanding uncontrollably, their shields and swords providing little assistance in the battle against the monsters of the legends.
The King's offer had been a blessing for them, a chance to obtain a steady supply of food and materials to make Hardhome liveable again, all at the cost of cessation of raids across the wall and the murder of one exiled and disgraced crow. The King had wanted more, offering gold and knighthoods to those among them blessed with gifts of warging, yet few trusted such an offer at first.
In the end, they had decided to wait, leaving the offer open for any who would wish to serve the King on the other side of the Wall. He had thought it all a hoax, much like most of his men.
Yet when a shipping vessel landed on the shores of their lands, loaded with grain and metals, he realized that the offer was made in good faith and that the King on the other side of the Wall was quite an enigmatic man.
The free folk had rejoiced, relishing the relative abundance of food as they began to repair the castle of Hardhome. And then the Kings men had met with him a second time, reiterating the offer of gold and glory to those blessed with the ability of warging, while they handed him a wooden chest.
"The King has sent this as a gift, to deal with your colder problems," the man had said as he had opened the chest, and right there lay weapons made out of obsidian. He had frowned at the gift, failing to understand the significance behind it, yet when he did everything began to make sense.
Those weapons were supposed to deal with the wights. Yet how did a king thousands of miles away came to know about these creatures was a mystery. It was at least until he recalled the legend of the dreamer herself, and realized that the King was perhaps blessed in the same manner as his storied ancestor.
KNOCK. KNOCK.
He was broken out of his thoughts by a knock on the door of his room, and he looked up to find a blonde woman entering her solar. Val, with her flowing blonde hair, entered his room, followed by a couple of gruff-looking men, with one of them still biting a chicken hungrily as juices dripped down his red beard.
The other man was bald, his figure towering over the other, his body littered with scars and wounds from his various battles. Three Mance had fought against the man before he had finally decided to support him as King Beyond the Wall. He was the Magnar of Thenns, Styr.
"You told me you wanted to see them as soon as they returned," said Val in her unimpressed tone and he saw Tormund's gaze linger on the blonde hungrily, though he was aware that the man had little chance of stealing her wife's sister given her skill with a blade.
"Yeah, she wouldn't even let us eat in peace," snarled Styr, and Val just shrugged and then left the room quickly, leaving him alone with his two most trusted men.
Tormund Grisbane and Styr of Thenn were two of his most trusted men, and he had given them a specific mission. The two men sat down gruffly, with Tormund still biting into his chicken hungrily, as Styr gave the man a look of disapproval.
"So, tell me, how much time do we have?" he questioned, getting to the crux of the matter quickly since he could see that both of them were quite exhausted and probably in need of a good rest, after their months of ranging into the perilous lands of the true North.
The two men stilled at his question. The whites had been becoming more and more dangerous with each passing day, killing and converting the hundreds of roaming free folks, adding them to their numbers.
"A year, two at most. But they are becoming more and more active Manse," began Styr, and Mance nodded, and felt a sense of dread at the shortage of time they had.
"They are coming for us, Mance," cut in Tormund in his grave tone, and while there was no fear in the man's eyes, there was a sense of worry. Something which he shared. For what man would wish for a fate of servitude even after his death?
"Will the King keep his promise? Will he give us safe passage when the time comes?" questioned Thenn and there wasn't a need to question which King he was talking about, given that none really called him King this side of the wall.
He sighed at the question, as he slowly answered his question.
"The King is dead!"
0000
EDDARD STARK
Eddard Stark rode his horse hard as he made his way through eh Riverlands. With the King gone, there was little purpose to him staying in the capital. Unlike his sister, who had chosen to stay behind, her betrothal to Prince Aemon was all but final now since Brandon had given his assent to the match.
And Eddard smiled as he thought of his sister, and how unlike she had behaved when he had broached the topic of the betrothal with her. It was hard to imagine that it was the same girl who had threatened to run off to Bravos when Brandon had approached the matter with her merely months ago about a probable match with Edumre Tully.
"Look at that my lord," spoke one of his guards, and Eddard looked up and frowned as he saw smoke rising from ahead.
"It seems like something is burning," he spoke out as he pulled on the reins of his horse making it slow down as he turned it towards the smoke, planning to see what exactly was going on.
"Let us see what is going on," he said and his half a dozen guards nodded and began to follow him, as they made their way toward the source of the smoke.
As they rode past the forest, they realized that it was a rather small village, with some patches of land under the farm and about a dozen or two wooden houses situated here and there.
They finally saw the source of the smoke as they came upon a small hoard of people centered around a massive tree with pitchforks and axes in their hands. Eddard saw his guards tense up at the scene as their hands went to their swords instinctively, as they neared the hoard.
At the center of the crowd stood a man clad in a full robe, holding a sword, with the symbol of the seven-pointed star cut into his forehead.
"They are heathens! And it is our duty as god-fearing men to bring lead them to light! And if they shall refuse to mend their ways, then we shall do what is necessary to keep our lands pure!" shouted the septon, as the crowd cheered, and Eddard finally saw a family lying on the ground with their arms and legs tied as the tree behind them burned.
"It's a wierwood tree," spoke one of his guards with a gasp as he pointed towards the carved face on the tree. And suddenly, it became clear what exactly was going on.
"But aren't these Blackwood lands? The Blackwoods hold to the Old Gods, unlike the rest of the Riverlands," cut in one of the other guards.
"Burn them! Burn their heathen gods!" shouted the crowd, and suddenly one of their horses sneezed making the crowd turn towards them.
"It's a lord! Run!"
"Look at that sigil! It's a direwolf!"
"It's another one of those heathens!"
Eddard saw the Septon turn towards them in panic as the crowd became unsettled by their appearance, and before he could cut in, his guards took out their swords.
"THEY ARE GOING TO KILL US!" "RUN"
And in that pandemonium, he saw the Septon point towards them and shout.
"THOSE HEATHENS WANT TO STOP US FROM DOING THE WORK OF THE SEVEN! YET WE CANNOT BACK DOWN!"
The crowd rallied at his call, and Eddard felt dread pool in his gut as he saw the crowd turn towards him.
"Let us show them that we have the seven at our back and fear no lord or their sword!" the Septon shouted as some of the zealots rushed towards him. His guards were quick to react and despite his shout.
"NO, Don't kill them!" They struck down the two men, removing their heads from their bodies, and spraying blood everywhere.
The head of the guards seemed to realize their predicament finally and shouted.
"You need to get out of here Lord Eddard!" shouted Duncan as the crowd rushed towards him and his men in their rage, as the septon egged them on from behind.
0000
SAERA BLACKFYRE
Saera Blackfyre stood on the deck of the massive war galley, observing the men below her. The Golden Company was the most famous mercenary company for a reason, and it showed. While most companies failed to arm their men with reasonable armor, the company's men were well-equipped. Each man wore simple armor with some strapped in full plate, polishing their swords as they neared the infamous island of Bloodstone.
She heard the sound of footsteps from behind herself, and she didn't need to look back, to know who had come to meet her.
"Do you really think that this is the only way?" she questioned, in a mix of rage and trepidation. They had underestimated Aerys and his sons.
They had acted quicker than they had realized and had cut off their escape route to Tyrosh with Randyll Tarly, the King's infamous general leading an army, sacking the city, and rooting out their supporters.
Had Daemon not recognized the sigil on those ships, the man would have caught them and would probably have been killed, bringing an end to their struggle.
"Yes, by now, Randall Tarly would have captured all our supporters in the City. We have no choice but to act now," replied her brother, and she nodded. Yet they were desperate.
She looked straight ahead at the massive island. The island of Bloodstone stood there, a stronghold for the Targaryens, under the command of their cousin and Lord of Storm's end, Robert Baratheon, a giant of a man said to wield a massive Warhammer.
"Do you think we will win?" she questioned as the wind blew past her face, and she felt a gentle hand on her shoulder as her brother nodded.
"Yes. Yes, we will," he replied as she felt the massive ship slow down as they neared the island. Even without a spyglass, she could see the assembled Royal army right there, four thousand or so armored men standing there to end this war.
She saw her brother walk to the front of their ship, clad in full black armor, with a sword strapped to his side. Prepared for battle as the men of the Golden Company rallied behind them.
"And now it finally begins!"
0000
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ThunderBasilisk
Well Worn Bastion
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Might not be my favorite of your stories but you always give great chapters. Lets hope Robert can pull a win.
ATP
Well worn.
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Baelish puppets would die,but is he aware of fact,that Blackfyres would use him to get time,too?
Becouse,even if/unlikely/ they win, Baelish would still die.
P.S i hope,that wildlings here could go South - maybe to Riverlands,teach septons few things?
Becouse,even if/unlikely/ they win, Baelish would still die.
P.S i hope,that wildlings here could go South - maybe to Riverlands,teach septons few things?
Chapter 23
Zeld
I trust you know where the happy button is?
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Chapter 23
The abduction of Eddard Stark was a major embarrassment for the crown. The young Lord was on his way back to the North, and while he was traversing across the Riverlands, the young Lord would find himself caught up in a riot of the Sparrows, where they were said to be burning the followers of the Old god along with the wierwood trees signifying the place of worship in the faith of the First Men.
Many speculate that the abduction was planned, and that the crown was in search of a pretense to declare the Sparrows as vigilantes so they could be brought down without much opposition from the populace. But it should be noted that the Royal Family enjoyed much popular support at that time and needed no justification to declare the Sparrows as outlaws.
Nonetheless, the abduction would cause major havoc for the Crown, especially with their armies away on the campaign in Stepstones. The Crown needed to bring down the Sparrows.
Prince Aemon wrote a strongly worded letter to the Lord of the Trident, Lord Hoster Tully of Riverrun, yet conspicuously, the old Lord would suddenly die of chills, the lordship going to his son Edmure.
Edmure Tully was the only son of Lord Houster, married to Rosalind Frey. The young Lord was blessed with three children of his own. Unlike his Frey wife, Edmure was said to be an easily swayed man, and his indecisive nature would show as he would refuse the call from The Crown, made no meaningful action against the Sparrows, and continued to provide them with refuge in the Riverlands much to the anger and perplexity of his sword Lords, and his lady wife who would go on to play a major role in resolving this whole mess.
0000
ROBERT BARATHEON
Robert Baratheon had been filled with fury since the campaign against the wretched Blackfyres had begun. His hatred for the pretenders soared after they had made an attempt at the life of his wife and children using his own brother.
Renly had always been fickle and had often felt neglected with both him and Stannis being in Kingslanding, yet he had never expected this of him. Betrayal, and not just that, but kin slaying. It had really surprised him, and when the news about the siege reached him, he had every intention to turn back and cave in that traitor's head.
Yet, his guards and Cersei had been able to react quickly and were able to escape the castle while seeking aid from nearby houses who had been quick to react to the call, readying men to lend aid to their liege lord. In the end, the whole rebellion had been short-lived, with Renly succumbing to arrows fired by men of House Connignton as he tried to capture Cersei.
His brother's death had brought him both a sense of loss and relief, yet with the quick response from Stannis and his bannermen, Storm's End had been brought back under control in less than a fortnight, with Stannis personally beheading all the captured men, ending the rebellion and taking away his chance at revenge.
Yet his rage wouldn't let him seethe, and soon he would have his revenge. And so filled with this rage and determination, Robert watched as the ships of the Golden Company neared the shore of Grey Gallows, the massive armada swallowing up the shoreline as he and his men stood back and waited for their army to land.
Robert stood at the head of the army. Fifteen thousand men trained for war at his back arranged in four battalions stood at his back. He himself was clad in his armor, steel forged by the finest smiths of the continent. The armor was light, given its size, and was ornate enough, decorated with the sigil of his House with several stages of gold carved into the metal along with the massive horns that shot out of the helmet.
"Is this really smart to let them land like this?" questioned his vice commander, the only white cloak that had accompanied him on this campaign, Benjen Stark, the first Northern to join the Kingsgaurd in three hundred years.
The man seemed rather quiet and serious at first glance, but Robert had spent years sparring with the Whitecloaks and was quite aware of the hidden boisterous nature of the man. Though none of it was on appearance at the moment as the Golden Companies ships reached the shore and came to a halt.
Robert nodded, his eyes narrowing at the person standing at the head of the ship, he seemed clad in black armor, unlike the rest of the Company, which was fashioned into the signature gold-plated armor.
"Yes, this is the best course of action. Those ships are laden with scorpions and trebuchets. Having our army any closer would bring us into their range," he began as he motioned for one of his squires to come near as he pointed toward the uniquely dressed man.
"Use the far eye and see who is the person wearing the black armor," he ordered as he turned towards Benjen once more.
"Let them begin landing. As soon as they have begun, we shall shower them with arrows and boulders and then crush them with a sweeping cavalry charge, but if we attack now, they will simply pull back," he replied, and Benjen Stark nodded.
"It is a solid plan," and suddenly Robert frowned as the Golden Company raised their banners, but this time alongside their banner was another banner.
A black three-headed dragon on a red background. Opposite of the banner of the Royal Targaryen line. It was the sigil of House Blackfyre. The pretenders were finally here.
"My lord, it's the Blackfyre banner. The person you pointed out is probably…." The squire began nervously as Robert's eyes narrowed.
"Daemon Blackfyre!" he mouthed, and the very words made his anger flare up as his fists balled up. He picked up his Warhammer and began to step forward, his eyes focused onto the shadowy figure clad in Black armor, the man responsible for every tragedy that had befallen him in the past year.
The Golden Company had begun disembarking with their armies dismounting from their ships rapidly. It was time to make their move.
"MEN!" he shouted, his voice reverberating across the clearing as the men perked up at his command. He was in no mood for reviting speeches, and had the old King been alive, he would have chided him for his impatience and bruteness, yet one look at the men behind him told him that there truly was no need for words.
"LET'S SHOW THESE FUCKING PRETENDERS WHAT RETRIBUTION FEELS LIKE!" he shouted and men roared at his words, shaking the very ground as they followed behind him, stepping out of the cover that the small forest provided.
Even at such distance, he could feel the anxiety bubbling in the Golden Company as they saw the assembled fifteen thousand men.
"ARCHERS! TO THE FRONT!" he commanded and felt the men shift as the archers stepped forward, the army's signature unit wielding the recurved bow took the front line.
"TAKE AIM!" he shouted and heard the thrum of more than a bows getting drawn, and then he raised his war hammer, and saw the Golden Companies archer take their positions as well.
They fired their shots, yet their arrows landed in front of them, with only a few managing to land on his men, and even if they were blocked by shields. Yet his wouldn't fall short.
"FIRE!!!!" he shouted as he brought down his Warhammer!
SCHING! SCHWING! BOOM! THUNK! THUNK!
The sky was littered with arrows, scorpions, and boulders and he saw havoc break out in their enemy's camps as the onslaught ripped through the fabled Golden Company.
"AGAIN!" he shouted, and the barrage continued, showering their enemies with arrows, scorpions, and boulders.
"CAVALRY! MAKE READY!" he shouted again, and the three thousand heavy cavalry stepped forward, clad in full plate armor, castle-forged spears in hand as they lined up at his call. The armies' training over the years showed its effects.
"CHARGE!" she shouted, and the ground shook with the gallop of fifteen hundred horses, as the men rode past him, heading straight for the disorganized and disheveled men of the Golden Company.
Robert felt a smile form on his face as he felt his plan begin to take form when suddenly Benjen Stark spoke from the side,
"Something isn't right. Look at the nearby ships," said the man, and Robert frowned as he noticed the anomaly. Despite getting hammered, the few ships besides the main ship had shown no hurry to dismount and had their men still on board despite their brothers dying in front of them.
And then he stilled as he heard the sound of horns being blown from their enemy's camps, the massive sound filling his heart with dread.
The cavalry marched on, and though the men were panicking he could sense no sense of urgency from the rest of the Company. And suddenly from the ships docked at the shore, a number of projectiles were fired.
Projectiles headed straight for the cavalry.
"HOLDDD!" he shouted but by then it was too late, and he watched as the first of those projectiles landed on the charging cavalry.
BOOOM!
"AGHHHHHHH!" "AH!"
"AHHHHH!" "SAVE ME!" "FIRE!"
"RETREAT!"
Devouring them in a massive torrent of green fire.
0000
QYBURN
"What is the meaning of this!" Aemon shouted as he threw the response from Edmure Tully in front of Qyburn. He made no motion to reach for the letter, given that he was already aware of its contents.
The recently crowned lord had delicately refused the Crown's call and had declared that he could in no way step up to stop the people from carrying out their duty to the Seven, and that doing so would be going against his oaths to the Gods.
It was a farce, and after Qyburn's recent failure with the abduction of Lord Eddard Stark and assassination of Lord Houster, this was the third time the Preacher had outplayed him.
The young Prince seethed in rage and paced angrily in his room. The North was already enraged by this and were days away from crossing the Moat to bring back their kin. Prince Aemon had been able to halt their aggressive response, yet even then, the Crown couldn't let go of this.
"Have you found out, who killed Lord Houster?" the Prince suddenly questioned, and Qyburn nodded.
"Yes, my prince. It seems that the so-called Preacher is now leading all this personally. He had bribed one of the acolytes in the castle to poison Lord Houster, given that he knew that he wouldn't be able to sway the wizened lord and how he holds considerable influence over the young Lord Edmure," Qyburn answered.
The bribe hadn't been monetary, and instead, the young acolyte had had the words of treason whispered into his ears by a woman that he suspected was an employee of the Preacher.
"This Preacher is proving to be quite troublesome," muttered the Prince, and Qyburn would tend to agree with the Prince.
"Indeed, and I have confirmed it from considerable sources that he has approached the Blackfyres for an alliance, and I believe the Blackfyres would be happy to accept such an offer," and he saw the Prince stop at his words, his eyes widening as he realized that this could unravel all their victories over the Blackfyres and could hurt them massively.
Not to mention, the religious strife building up in the capital was a major concern as well, with the Fait beginning to flex their power as they saw an opportunity to regain a portion of the influence they had lost with King Aerys's reforms.
"This cannot be allowed to happen. We need to take care of this right now," said the Prince as he walked to the map hanging on the wall. His eyes scanned the various castles and houses in the Riverlands.
"Write to Stannis, have him and the men I sent with him get ready to march onto the Riverlands," the Prince ordered, and Qyburn nodded, putting the order in the back of his mind.
"Do we know where they are keeping Eddard?" the Prince questioned, and Qybrun shook his head.
"Not at the moment, my Prince, but the Kingsmen are looking into it. No matter where he is being kept, we will know soon enough," Qyburn told the Prince, who grit his teeth and nodded nonetheless.
"Have them do it on first priority, and also make them scout out all the hiding spots of these sparrows. I want to know each and every one of their hiding spots," said the Prince as he turned away from the map, fury burning in his eyes.
"We are going to kill them all in one fell swoop," said the Prince, and Qyburn gulped and nodded along, knowing that he had no place in dissuading the Prince from this line of action.
"And since the High Septon seems so amicable to their cause, it is perhaps time for a new High Septon to rise up. Septon Barthos has served the realm enough, and it is time that the Seven meet one of their most devout followers," said the Prince cryptically, the message behind his words clear.
Kill the High Septon and have someone more reasonable take his place.
"It will be done, my Prince," Qyburn said. Given the many vices enjoyed by the most devout, it wouldn't be much difficult for his associates to slip a little poison into his wine.
"Anything else, my prince?" he questioned and saw the Prince's mind race as he began after some thought.
"And have an edict written and distributed to all the lords of Riverlands, that the Crown may be on the lookout for a new Lord Paramount of the Trident!"
And as he was reeling from the shock of those words, there was a sudden knock on the door of the solar, making them both frown.
"My Prince, it is an emergency. I bring urgent news from the Stepstones!" came the voice of an acolyte, and he saw the Prince perk up at those words.
"Come on!" the prince ordered quickly, and the acolyte entered the solar and made a quick bow as the Prince motioned for him to continue.
"My Prince, the Blackfyres! They have joined up with the Golden Company and are closing in towards Grey Gallows for a massive attack!"
0000
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Thanks for reading!
The abduction of Eddard Stark was a major embarrassment for the crown. The young Lord was on his way back to the North, and while he was traversing across the Riverlands, the young Lord would find himself caught up in a riot of the Sparrows, where they were said to be burning the followers of the Old god along with the wierwood trees signifying the place of worship in the faith of the First Men.
Many speculate that the abduction was planned, and that the crown was in search of a pretense to declare the Sparrows as vigilantes so they could be brought down without much opposition from the populace. But it should be noted that the Royal Family enjoyed much popular support at that time and needed no justification to declare the Sparrows as outlaws.
Nonetheless, the abduction would cause major havoc for the Crown, especially with their armies away on the campaign in Stepstones. The Crown needed to bring down the Sparrows.
Prince Aemon wrote a strongly worded letter to the Lord of the Trident, Lord Hoster Tully of Riverrun, yet conspicuously, the old Lord would suddenly die of chills, the lordship going to his son Edmure.
Edmure Tully was the only son of Lord Houster, married to Rosalind Frey. The young Lord was blessed with three children of his own. Unlike his Frey wife, Edmure was said to be an easily swayed man, and his indecisive nature would show as he would refuse the call from The Crown, made no meaningful action against the Sparrows, and continued to provide them with refuge in the Riverlands much to the anger and perplexity of his sword Lords, and his lady wife who would go on to play a major role in resolving this whole mess.
0000
ROBERT BARATHEON
Robert Baratheon had been filled with fury since the campaign against the wretched Blackfyres had begun. His hatred for the pretenders soared after they had made an attempt at the life of his wife and children using his own brother.
Renly had always been fickle and had often felt neglected with both him and Stannis being in Kingslanding, yet he had never expected this of him. Betrayal, and not just that, but kin slaying. It had really surprised him, and when the news about the siege reached him, he had every intention to turn back and cave in that traitor's head.
Yet, his guards and Cersei had been able to react quickly and were able to escape the castle while seeking aid from nearby houses who had been quick to react to the call, readying men to lend aid to their liege lord. In the end, the whole rebellion had been short-lived, with Renly succumbing to arrows fired by men of House Connignton as he tried to capture Cersei.
His brother's death had brought him both a sense of loss and relief, yet with the quick response from Stannis and his bannermen, Storm's End had been brought back under control in less than a fortnight, with Stannis personally beheading all the captured men, ending the rebellion and taking away his chance at revenge.
Yet his rage wouldn't let him seethe, and soon he would have his revenge. And so filled with this rage and determination, Robert watched as the ships of the Golden Company neared the shore of Grey Gallows, the massive armada swallowing up the shoreline as he and his men stood back and waited for their army to land.
Robert stood at the head of the army. Fifteen thousand men trained for war at his back arranged in four battalions stood at his back. He himself was clad in his armor, steel forged by the finest smiths of the continent. The armor was light, given its size, and was ornate enough, decorated with the sigil of his House with several stages of gold carved into the metal along with the massive horns that shot out of the helmet.
"Is this really smart to let them land like this?" questioned his vice commander, the only white cloak that had accompanied him on this campaign, Benjen Stark, the first Northern to join the Kingsgaurd in three hundred years.
The man seemed rather quiet and serious at first glance, but Robert had spent years sparring with the Whitecloaks and was quite aware of the hidden boisterous nature of the man. Though none of it was on appearance at the moment as the Golden Companies ships reached the shore and came to a halt.
Robert nodded, his eyes narrowing at the person standing at the head of the ship, he seemed clad in black armor, unlike the rest of the Company, which was fashioned into the signature gold-plated armor.
"Yes, this is the best course of action. Those ships are laden with scorpions and trebuchets. Having our army any closer would bring us into their range," he began as he motioned for one of his squires to come near as he pointed toward the uniquely dressed man.
"Use the far eye and see who is the person wearing the black armor," he ordered as he turned towards Benjen once more.
"Let them begin landing. As soon as they have begun, we shall shower them with arrows and boulders and then crush them with a sweeping cavalry charge, but if we attack now, they will simply pull back," he replied, and Benjen Stark nodded.
"It is a solid plan," and suddenly Robert frowned as the Golden Company raised their banners, but this time alongside their banner was another banner.
A black three-headed dragon on a red background. Opposite of the banner of the Royal Targaryen line. It was the sigil of House Blackfyre. The pretenders were finally here.
"My lord, it's the Blackfyre banner. The person you pointed out is probably…." The squire began nervously as Robert's eyes narrowed.
"Daemon Blackfyre!" he mouthed, and the very words made his anger flare up as his fists balled up. He picked up his Warhammer and began to step forward, his eyes focused onto the shadowy figure clad in Black armor, the man responsible for every tragedy that had befallen him in the past year.
The Golden Company had begun disembarking with their armies dismounting from their ships rapidly. It was time to make their move.
"MEN!" he shouted, his voice reverberating across the clearing as the men perked up at his command. He was in no mood for reviting speeches, and had the old King been alive, he would have chided him for his impatience and bruteness, yet one look at the men behind him told him that there truly was no need for words.
"LET'S SHOW THESE FUCKING PRETENDERS WHAT RETRIBUTION FEELS LIKE!" he shouted and men roared at his words, shaking the very ground as they followed behind him, stepping out of the cover that the small forest provided.
Even at such distance, he could feel the anxiety bubbling in the Golden Company as they saw the assembled fifteen thousand men.
"ARCHERS! TO THE FRONT!" he commanded and felt the men shift as the archers stepped forward, the army's signature unit wielding the recurved bow took the front line.
"TAKE AIM!" he shouted and heard the thrum of more than a bows getting drawn, and then he raised his war hammer, and saw the Golden Companies archer take their positions as well.
They fired their shots, yet their arrows landed in front of them, with only a few managing to land on his men, and even if they were blocked by shields. Yet his wouldn't fall short.
"FIRE!!!!" he shouted as he brought down his Warhammer!
SCHING! SCHWING! BOOM! THUNK! THUNK!
The sky was littered with arrows, scorpions, and boulders and he saw havoc break out in their enemy's camps as the onslaught ripped through the fabled Golden Company.
"AGAIN!" he shouted, and the barrage continued, showering their enemies with arrows, scorpions, and boulders.
"CAVALRY! MAKE READY!" he shouted again, and the three thousand heavy cavalry stepped forward, clad in full plate armor, castle-forged spears in hand as they lined up at his call. The armies' training over the years showed its effects.
"CHARGE!" she shouted, and the ground shook with the gallop of fifteen hundred horses, as the men rode past him, heading straight for the disorganized and disheveled men of the Golden Company.
Robert felt a smile form on his face as he felt his plan begin to take form when suddenly Benjen Stark spoke from the side,
"Something isn't right. Look at the nearby ships," said the man, and Robert frowned as he noticed the anomaly. Despite getting hammered, the few ships besides the main ship had shown no hurry to dismount and had their men still on board despite their brothers dying in front of them.
And then he stilled as he heard the sound of horns being blown from their enemy's camps, the massive sound filling his heart with dread.
The cavalry marched on, and though the men were panicking he could sense no sense of urgency from the rest of the Company. And suddenly from the ships docked at the shore, a number of projectiles were fired.
Projectiles headed straight for the cavalry.
"HOLDDD!" he shouted but by then it was too late, and he watched as the first of those projectiles landed on the charging cavalry.
BOOOM!
"AGHHHHHHH!" "AH!"
"AHHHHH!" "SAVE ME!" "FIRE!"
"RETREAT!"
Devouring them in a massive torrent of green fire.
0000
QYBURN
"What is the meaning of this!" Aemon shouted as he threw the response from Edmure Tully in front of Qyburn. He made no motion to reach for the letter, given that he was already aware of its contents.
The recently crowned lord had delicately refused the Crown's call and had declared that he could in no way step up to stop the people from carrying out their duty to the Seven, and that doing so would be going against his oaths to the Gods.
It was a farce, and after Qyburn's recent failure with the abduction of Lord Eddard Stark and assassination of Lord Houster, this was the third time the Preacher had outplayed him.
The young Prince seethed in rage and paced angrily in his room. The North was already enraged by this and were days away from crossing the Moat to bring back their kin. Prince Aemon had been able to halt their aggressive response, yet even then, the Crown couldn't let go of this.
"Have you found out, who killed Lord Houster?" the Prince suddenly questioned, and Qyburn nodded.
"Yes, my prince. It seems that the so-called Preacher is now leading all this personally. He had bribed one of the acolytes in the castle to poison Lord Houster, given that he knew that he wouldn't be able to sway the wizened lord and how he holds considerable influence over the young Lord Edmure," Qyburn answered.
The bribe hadn't been monetary, and instead, the young acolyte had had the words of treason whispered into his ears by a woman that he suspected was an employee of the Preacher.
"This Preacher is proving to be quite troublesome," muttered the Prince, and Qyburn would tend to agree with the Prince.
"Indeed, and I have confirmed it from considerable sources that he has approached the Blackfyres for an alliance, and I believe the Blackfyres would be happy to accept such an offer," and he saw the Prince stop at his words, his eyes widening as he realized that this could unravel all their victories over the Blackfyres and could hurt them massively.
Not to mention, the religious strife building up in the capital was a major concern as well, with the Fait beginning to flex their power as they saw an opportunity to regain a portion of the influence they had lost with King Aerys's reforms.
"This cannot be allowed to happen. We need to take care of this right now," said the Prince as he walked to the map hanging on the wall. His eyes scanned the various castles and houses in the Riverlands.
"Write to Stannis, have him and the men I sent with him get ready to march onto the Riverlands," the Prince ordered, and Qyburn nodded, putting the order in the back of his mind.
"Do we know where they are keeping Eddard?" the Prince questioned, and Qybrun shook his head.
"Not at the moment, my Prince, but the Kingsmen are looking into it. No matter where he is being kept, we will know soon enough," Qyburn told the Prince, who grit his teeth and nodded nonetheless.
"Have them do it on first priority, and also make them scout out all the hiding spots of these sparrows. I want to know each and every one of their hiding spots," said the Prince as he turned away from the map, fury burning in his eyes.
"We are going to kill them all in one fell swoop," said the Prince, and Qyburn gulped and nodded along, knowing that he had no place in dissuading the Prince from this line of action.
"And since the High Septon seems so amicable to their cause, it is perhaps time for a new High Septon to rise up. Septon Barthos has served the realm enough, and it is time that the Seven meet one of their most devout followers," said the Prince cryptically, the message behind his words clear.
Kill the High Septon and have someone more reasonable take his place.
"It will be done, my Prince," Qyburn said. Given the many vices enjoyed by the most devout, it wouldn't be much difficult for his associates to slip a little poison into his wine.
"Anything else, my prince?" he questioned and saw the Prince's mind race as he began after some thought.
"And have an edict written and distributed to all the lords of Riverlands, that the Crown may be on the lookout for a new Lord Paramount of the Trident!"
And as he was reeling from the shock of those words, there was a sudden knock on the door of the solar, making them both frown.
"My Prince, it is an emergency. I bring urgent news from the Stepstones!" came the voice of an acolyte, and he saw the Prince perk up at those words.
"Come on!" the prince ordered quickly, and the acolyte entered the solar and made a quick bow as the Prince motioned for him to continue.
"My Prince, the Blackfyres! They have joined up with the Golden Company and are closing in towards Grey Gallows for a massive attack!"
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RandomDragon
I trust you know where the happy button is?
- Joined
- Jan 1, 2023
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so they use wildfire and whatever means necessary to win i guess...but honestly do they even HAVE a plan for afterwards? they only have what 2 members? can they afford a dynasty that won't weaken from time?
I'm pretty sure they don't really, and honestly this is going to be painful in the longer run the more they can run amok.
I'm pretty sure they don't really, and honestly this is going to be painful in the longer run the more they can run amok.
ThunderBasilisk
Well Worn Bastion
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Man shit just keeps escalating.