Dragons and Thrones: A Reborn Terror

Prologue for the second story in my Game of Thrones-Dragon Age crossover series. Hope you enjoy it, just beware, as with all prologue characters, this chapter ends in their death.

Also, while obviously not at the start, since this starts right at the beginning of the year 299 AL (for Dragon Age calendar, 9:41 Dragon), some important characters ages will change, here they are:

Robb: 19-20
Sansa: 16-17
Arya: 14-15
Bran: 13-14
Rickon: 8-9
Joffrey: 18-19
Myrcella: 16-17
Tommen: 13-14
Gendry: 19-20
Meera: 18-19
Jojen: 15-16
Talisa: 19-20
Podrick: 16-17
Shireen: 14-15
Margaery: 19-20

Disclaimer: Game of Thrones belongs to George R.R. Martin. Dragon Age belongs to Bioware.

Prologue: Michel de Chevin

The air was biting cold and the snow blew around rapidly, it had come out of nowhere, this blizzard. Still, undeterred, the man continued to trudge onwards. The man was relatively young, no more than thirty years of age, with slicked back blonde hair and brown eyes, he had pale skin and was clad in fine armour, the breastplate was purple featuring a lion's head in gold, the armour itself was mostly blue.

The man clutched his sword tightly as he looked around; but, determining that nothing was coming, he relaxed slightly.

'If only they could see me now…how they would laugh.' He thought bitterly to himself. 'How the mighty Empress' Champion has fallen, his true heritage unmasked, a disgrace to the Chevalier's and now this, trudging through snow, chasing a rumour.'

The man sighed sadly as he thought not. It probably wasn't quite like that, but he had no doubt it was close. His name was Michel de Chevin, An Orlesian Chevalier and Champion to Empress Celene. But that was the past, following some drastic and unfortunate events, it had been revealed that he was in fact Elf-Blooded, his mother being an Elf, his father human.

If that wasn't disgrace enough, he had lied about it, particularly during his training, breaking one of the rules of the Academie des Chevalier. Worse than that, he could no longer protect Celene and then there was the matter of the demon he had unleashed.

That was his greatest shame, in a matter of desperation and wild hope, he thought the demon could help him. But of course he forgot, with demon's there is always payback, it got him out of a dire situation, but in return, he had released it from its seal and now it was out wreaking havoc.

Then came the explosion and he found himself no longer in Orlais, no longer able to do his duty and protect Celene.

'One thing is for certain, that demon didn't cause the explosion, even he doesn't have that much power.' Michel thought to himself. 'But what does? That will have to wait, until I hunt this demon down.'

He had recovered to find himself in a land called Westeros. Specifically a place called White Harbour, in what they called the North. He had heard about some troubling incidents upon the road lately; incidents that were too coincidental for him to ignore.

He knew it to be the work of the demon he had unleashed, and so he went to hunt it. Now here he was, no better off than when he had started. It was then the blizzard suddenly got worse and Michel stopped, drawing his sword and squinting through the snow; this was no natural blizzard.

"I know it is you, show yourself, Demon!" He cried.

He was answered with cold laughter.

There was a beat of silence before the mocking voice spoke; Michel hadn't heard it in a while, but he still recognized it.

"Ahem, Choice Spirit." It said before continuing. "Well, well, Michel my friend, welcome, so delightful to see you again."

Michel glowered. "Enough, I am here to put an end to you."

More laughter. "Oh, such cruelty, it need not be this way…I am not the worst thing here, especially when it comes to cold and ice."

"Silence, show yourself and fight!"

There was indeed silence, but the Demon did not appear. Suddenly red hot pain lanced up Michel's side and he cried out. He was struck again and again before toppling. Staring in disbelief at the blood pooling from several wounds that weren't there mere moments ago.

"No…" He choked out.

"Foolish, picking a fight you can't possibly win." The voice said again. "It didn't have to be like this, but you made your choice."

Michel saw the familiar shadowy figure standing over with, a cold grin touching its colourless lips, before the figure raised his hand, energy gathering in his palm and Michel's world dissolved in blackness, everything vanishing at once.

End of chapter, hope you enjoyed it, read and review please.