"Coming of the Ice King."
Chapter 1
"The one who can unite them."
The Seven Gods of Westeros were shaking their heads at the chaos playing out on their land and among their followers. Once again the world is heading towards an open war for the legendary Iron Throne…will the humans ever learn?
On one side there was the rightful owner of the blasted chair, Deanerys Targaryen, along with her army of unsullied men and three dragons, slowly getting ready to challenge the current owner of the throne first chance they get.
While on the other there was the merciless queen, Cersei Lannister, that's not above using everything and everyone around her in order for her family to stay in possession of the crown.
The situation isn't helped by the rising of Wildlings over the Wall. The battle for the Iron Throne will distract the humans from the real danger and ultimately cause their downfall.
The clashing of those two houses will end in a bloodbath, especially with Deanerys's dragons, leaving the victor, whoever it might be, weakened and unable to handle the swarm of the undead coming from beyond the Wall.
It's a pity the humans don't realize this is a 'no win' situation, for everyone will be dead before the victor can even rule long enough to enjoy his power.
That is…unless they intervene.
"This can't continue like this, Father." The Goddess known as Mother whispered fearfully, her face filled with concern for the people under her protection. "They are putting far too much faith in the Wall and its ability to keep the undead from entering the mainland, to even think about the terrible alternative."
"As long they keep their little minds set on gaining the Iron Throne, they won't be ready for the upcoming winter and its undead followers." Warrior stated crossing his arms on his armored chest. "By the time they hear their wake-up call…they'll be as good as dead."
Father sighted and rubbed his temples, the ignorant humans were causing him another headache with their short-sightedness and the lack of being able to see the bigger picture.
At times like these he missed Eddard Stark, the only human who seemed to know where the real danger will come from.
Too bad that knowledge was taken to the grave along with him, despite his attempts to warn the rest of his race. The ignorant little pest Geoffrey had the nerve to behead the fair king of the North, an action that did not please the lord of Gods and was severely punished for.
He shook his head at the thought of the Lord of Winterfell.
Such potential for good…such a noble and caring soul…such a waste.
Shame he is now resting in Stranger's domain, otherwise he would undoubtedly be the perfect solution to all their present problems.
"Not if we…help them a bit." Crone, who remained silent up to this point, spoke up, bringing Father out of this musings.
"And how do you suggest we do that?" Smith, another god who preferred listening to the conversation rather than speaking up with his own opinion on the subject. "We can't stop the winter from coming, Sister." He said, annihilating the option before it could even be proposed. "It has been long since foretold. Preventing it from occurring would bring disastrous consequences, ones I would rather not think about."
"That has never been a possible option for me, Brother." Crone answered calmly, dismissing his earlier doubts. "What I propose is an idea so old and infallible, it might be just what we need to save our people."
"And what would that be, dear daughter?" Mother asked watching her curiously, at this point they were ready to welcome any solution that had even a minimal chance of success.
Crone smiled before telling her family her idea.
"A 'Chosen One' sent by us to lead the people against a threat far too great for one army to defeat."
The rest of the gathered gods mused on the idea, finding it both idiotically simple and yet widely renowned for its effectiveness in the God community. Whenever a godlike entity had a problem with his subordinates, they'd simply send someone 'destined for greatness' to clean up their mess. It never failed.
Normally the 'Chosen One' would be sent as a baby to grow up among the people he/she was supposed to save, but in this situation there was no time for the basic procedures. By the time the hero would grow up the undead would already swarm the mainland, rendering his purpose totally useless.
Westeros needed a leader and it needed him/her now!
"Very well then, Crone." Father spoke ending the thoughtful silence. "Say we agree to your plan, who would you suggest to put in that role?" He saddened. "All the honorable houses…the Starks, the Foresters…are either dead, taken into slavery or scattered around Westeros, alone and terrified." The knowledgeable king of Gods shook his gray head. "There is nobody qualified, dear Daughter. The era of heroes died out along with them."
The solution would have been dismissed if it wasn't for Crone's answer.
"I never suggested we had to take someone from Westeros." The young goddess smiled. "There are other worlds out there, filled with people that are more than good enough to be one we seek." Immediately, on her godly command, miniature versions of planets from different universes appeared before the Seven Gods. "All we have to do, is take the one we want."
"How do we proceed with the selection?" Mother asked eyeing a world not to different from their own. Instead of fighting an oncoming swarm of undead, they went against an all seeing eye and its army of truly terrifying monstrosities. The caring entity's soft heart went out to the poor younglings suffering through hardships and pain to save their world, along with an elf, two humans, an old wizard and a dwarf.
She shook her head and a lone motherly tear slid down her porcelain skin.
If she knew anything about life, they are going to lose.
Even with the help of their local gods, five adults and four little ones can only do so much against a seemingly endless army of monsters.
She can only hope they will at least be remembered for their heroic attempt.
"We list the characteristics of the person we need." Her daughter explained. "Once that's done the image of the chosen one will appear before us."
Nodding the rest of the gods though hard of who they want the person saving their people, to be.
"He needs to be smart and charismatic, to both be able to outsmart his enemies and pull people to him." Smith stated, earning a raised eyebrow from Maiden.
"He?" She asked, her cold voice showing her displeasure with her sex being depicted as weaker by her brother.
Smith just snorted at her quiet outburst.
"Men are more respected in the world of Westeros, always have been. It's better to be on the safe side and not place the faith of an entire race in the hands of a woman, who we aren't sure people will follow." He stated, shrugging.
"Deanerys seems to gather a lot of followers throughout the years." Maiden shot back, shooting him an angry glare.
"The young Targaryen princes has dragons and family claim on the throne." Smith reasoned, calmly. "The chosen lady wouldn't have those attributes to help her get followers."
With the argument silenced by that sentence, the gods returned to searching for their savior.
"He would need to be knowledgeable in combat, to be able to lead his troops into battle and fight his enemies alongside them." Father added. "It wouldn't be good to give them a leader that can do nothing but sit on a throne."
"In order to be fair and a good king, he'd need a heart of ice." Stranger, the personification of death, stated. "In times like theses a man needs to make the hard choices in order to remain in control, we can't have someone lead by feelings pulling the strings." His long coat flipped in the nonexistent wind. "I've seen many kind kings get killed by following their hearts. No…" He shook his head. "Kindness is a weakness…a disadvantage. Our chosen one should not suffer from it."
Mother shook her head at the statement but said nothing, showing that, despite not liking it, she agrees.
"He also needs to know how to lead a country, without rebellions rising against him." Warrior added wisely. "Once he sits upon the Iron Throne, he will be in charge of all of Westeros. Therefore it would be wise to appoint to choose someone who would be knowledgeable in the arts of ruling the world."
After a minute of silence, Crone finally spoken.
"Father, Moher, Brothers, Sisters." She addressed with a smile, holding up an orb with the image of a human shown on its surface. The man in the picture was in his late thirties to early forties, his eyes were icy-blue and looked to be as cold as the upcoming winter, his hair was auburn and brushed neatly not a hair out of place.
The name below the image declaring his identity for all to see.
Mycroft Holmes.
"I believe we found our Chosen One."
JA107: Hi guys! It's me, Julie with yet ANOTHER new story! Dunno if it's any good though…how about you guys tell mean the reviews. It's just an idea I had after playing though the 'Telltale' "Game of Thrones" game and seeing how divided and concentrated on getting the Iron Throne everyone is. I thought that the people of Westeros needed a new leader, someone who is skilled and smart enough to find a way to unite them all against his rule. If you read my bio you know only one person could have sprung to my head at that very moment ;)