Just a little what-if scene... What if our favorite heroes from Game of Thrones and Lord of the Rings met? I would imagine the introductions would go something like this...
This was written after season 7 aired and beofre season 8, so I am sure this will feel dated as the series continues and stories are expanded... and in typical GOT fashion, im sure some charecters will be killed off making this story seem obsolete...
I have no plans to use this elsewhere, and honestly, I cannot even fathom a reason as to why Aragorn, Legolas and Gimli would even be in Westeros (or how they would get there). But I am going a bit stir crazy right now and need something to keep me occupied for a few hours. I hope this comes off as funny/ironic as I think it is, but then again I might just be losing my mind LOL. I know it feels very unfinished, but again, this is just a scene that popped into my head that never had any intensions of going anywhere.
Eirinte, this is for you! ^_-
Dragonstone. The very name of the massive castle sounded as foreboding as it looked and the small foreign company being escorted to the throne room kept themselves on high alert. There were only three of them - a man, elf and dwarf - but the heavy concentration of shields and spears used by the Unsullied warriors flocking their every move demonstrated the kingdom's sheer power and outstanding numbers.
"We should not have come here, Aragorn." The blond elf nearly whispered as he eyed the eerie back stone walls of the ancient fortress. It was familiar to him in some ways; a palace carved from volcanic rock mirrored that of his own home in Mirkwood. But unlike his father's halls, the air was thick with tension and unresolved stress and their welcome upon this unknown land was rigid and cautious - far from warm. Legolas repressed a shutter and glanced to his friend.
Aragorn gave a small nod to the elf. He too felt the overwhelming sense of untrust the moment they set foot on the sandy beaches of Black Water Bay, but his response was a counter, trying to justify their journey here.
"They say this Queen has impressive forces - her allies are many and strong-" But a gruff voice cut the man off.
"One must be mad to call this place home, and it's a Queen no less!" Gimli tried to stifle his wailing, but the idea of a grand woman calling *this* place home went against everything he could picture for a queen. The dreary and dark halls were lined with banners and tapestries nearly as black of the walls themselves, but bright read threads of silk stitched the ruling emblem of a mighty three-headed dragon clawing its way forward, spewing fire.
The dwarf's eyes were not the only ones to go wide at the sight.
"Queen Daenerys not mad." All eyes turned to the front of the procession, watching the lead guard as he called back. He was listening closely to the guest's small exchange and stepped in to defend his beloved matriarch. "She strong. She kind. She give hope to those who have none."
The dwarf's eyes squinted as the escort looked over his shoulder with a firm stare, daring them to speak ill of his queen.
"What was your name again?" the dwarf quipped back. His mind already drew a picture of this High Lady and he could not fathom anyone with a kind heart dwelling in this seemingly evil place. Though preliminary introductions were made upon their arrival, the lead guard's name was hard to take seriously.
"Grey Worm." the leader stated, his unbending posture never faltering in their march along to the throne room.
"Grey Worm?" The dwarf questioned, still skeptical. The first time he heard the name he hoped his ears misconstrued the broken speech within the guard's dialect, even placing more blame on the noisy churning surf of the beach where they were originally confronted. But 'Grey Worm' was once again presented as the guards name. "And is that a name *she* chose for you?" the dwarf's disbelief was keen.
"No. That name come from first master. Queen Daenerys tell me to choose new one - one that I am proud of, but I first fight for her with that name and now it give me pride." The guard lifted his head slightly, showing fulfilled gratification towards his unusual name, but the new comers only exchanged puzzled glances.
They said no more.
They were hurried along, following the twisting maze of hallways until a heavy set of iron doors blocked their path. The marching ceased instantly. Despite the number of people in the hall, the guests found that an unnerving silence settled over them. However, it was not long before the doors there pulled open and they were ushered through.
The throne room was typical for a palace; It was expansive and arid to hold a large formal gathering should such an occasion arise. A landing for a throne-chair sat atop a small flight of stairs, giving the mighty leader the highest vantage point within the room. Much like the hallways they saw in passing, the court was dark. A few narrow windows let some rays of light filter through the salted air, but rather than helping the cause, the gleaming light only cast thicker shadows in the recesses set about the room.
The High Seat itself was carved from the same glassy rock that the walls were composed of, but the impressive size swallowed the young, petite, silver-haired Queen who watched the contingent move forward. She was silent, but her intense gaze commanded respect.
She was only surrounded by a two others, raising more questions within the foreigner's minds. No doubt these people closest to the Queen were lords or advisors, but one was short - that of Gimli's stature and the other was dark-skinned woman.
The guests were brought to stand before Queen, stopped only by the sudden halt of the soldiers and a barrage of spear points that instantly trained on the three individuals. They held their hands up, showing that they had been disarmed earlier and they posed no threat.
She held a slim hand up and the subtle command lifted the spears, pushing the Unsullied warriors back a pace so the Queen could clearly see each of the three guests that stood before her. Casually, she nodded once to the woman standing beside her chair, giving yet one more unspoken request that was immediately carried out.
They waited.
The dark-skinned woman moved forward, her graceful movements beckoned respect of her own. She had a gentle smile on her face - the first sign of any friendly gestures since their arrival, but she was not here to be nice. She had a job to do.
"Gentlemen." She stared out and landed her dark eyes on each of the three eccentric beings standing before her. "I am the queen's advisor and translator, Missandei. We recognize you are foreigners, not from this land. Do you speak common?"
It was the burley dwarf that spoke for all three of them, but his response was short to maintain their caution. "Aye."
"Good. You have the honor to stand in the presence of Daenerys Stormborn of House Targaryen... First of Her Name, Lady of Dragonstone... *Queen* of the Andals and the First Men... *Queen* of Meereen... *Khaleesi* of the Great Grass Sea... The *Breaker* of Chains, The Unburnt, and... *Mother* of Drangons."
The translator arched a single brow, her polite smile tainted smugly after her barrage of high and dignified titles. Her queen was powerful and no one could compare to her or overshadow her accomplishments.
"You have a lot of titles, M'Lady." the dwarf stated plainly, shifting to stand a little straighter to look every bit as the strong dwarf warrior he was to match up to the queen's silent assurance who had yet to speak.
"I've been busy." Her qucik and easy responce bordered a snear for she did not want to engage in small talk.
"I see."
The queen stood gracefully to her feet and strolled to the edge of her perch, her steps were nonchalant and she clasped her hands lightly behind her back. She took her precious time in evaluating the people before her, noting all cues from their mannerisms, to the way they dressed to piece together who these people were and what they wanted.
"What is it that brought these three foreign... *commoners*... to stand before the rightful Queen of the Iron Throne?" Her assumptions were a slur used to show she had more important matters to deal with and wanted to end this seemingly petty meeting. Intimidation was her best non-violent tactic and she held their gaze waiting for an answer.
"Commoners?!" The dwarf nearly shouted, but his heated defenses was cut short by a smooth command from Legolas who stood beside him.
"Then who *are* you?" her defiant words dared them to call her wrong.
The regal elf took a step forward. He too projected the confidence that was being thrown into their faces. He squared off his set shoulders and addressed the court with his own authority.
"My Lady-"
"Queen." Daenerys interjected and corrected the elf with a stiff smirk.
The elf took a calming breath. This conversation was not going as planned but despite their hopes, the elf leveled his sapphire eyes, smiling only to hide his annoyance.
"... My Lady." the elf stated, slower this time with an underlying boldness which earned him an aggravated, mocked grin. He answered to no queen. "We have traveled far from our homelands and left the boundaries of Middle Earth."
Everyone in the room quirked their bemused brow. They had never heard of Middle Earth before, but the elf did not elaborate and pressed on.
"This is Gimli, son of Gloin... and is Lord of the Glittering Caves." The elf held his hand out to present the stout dwarf who was still working on containing his temper. The queen and dwarf locked eyes, but said nothing to one another.
"I am Legolas Thranduilion... Prince of the Woodland Realm and Lord of Ithilien." He bowed his head and pressed an open palm to his heart before sweeping it out in front of him in formal elvish greeting.
"*You* are a prince?" Her tone was soft, yet still bordered disbelief. However, she never gave the elf a chance to respond. "And yet you act as subordinate and take on the role of mediator." Her eyes turned hard. "I do not know what 'prince' means in your lands, but here a prince is a person of power." Her lips pursed, disappointed that these people could be taking her for a fool. She had no time for this and turned her head to sever her attention. He was not worthy of it.
The queen meandered a few paces so she stood directly in front of the travel-weary man who had been quite the entire time. She shrugged her nose to him.
"And what of you?" her comanding tone was dead.
Aragorn opened his mouth to speak, but never got the chance as the elf jumped back in. Rarely did anyone tell him what to do and this queen's flippancy made Legolas bristle. If she was concerned about titles, he could supply them.
"This... is King Elessar... Aragorn, Son of Arathorn, Heir of Isildur, founder of house Telcontar, Chieftain of the Dunadan, Strider - Ranger of the North... known to many others as Longshanks, Wingfoot, Elfstone, Estel, Thorongil. He has reforged the broken line of kings, reunited the world of Men... and is the true King of Gondor. *You* own him your allegiance."
The elf tightly held a cocky smile and Daenerys bore daggers into him with her pale blue eyes.
"Is that so?" She dragged her sights away from the smirking elf to get confirmation from this so-called king, but the man rolled his eyes closed.
"Legolas..." the man reproached with a mumble. That was not how he wanted to handle the situation and was lost with how to proceed. Of course they did not want to be walked all over, but meeting resistance with their own hard front would not help their case.
"Are you a king?" Daenerys questioned again.
With a sigh, the king claimed ownership to his names. "I am."
"Then, I assume you are here to bend the knee."
The king worried his brow. That was not at all why he was here and was taken aback at how easily this queen jumped to conclusions.
"What? No!" Aragorn began to argue.
"Fight against me then?" Daenerys accused, her anger was starting to rise as this man, much like many others, outright refused to acknowledge her lordship and rightful place on the Iron Throne.
"My Lady-" Aragorn tried to gain control of the conversation, but the young Matriarch nearly shrieked her correction once again.
"Queen!"
"I did not come here to take over and wage war against you. However, I did not expend all my efforts to get here just to call you my Queen."
"You might as well do it now." An unexpected voice piped up from the dark shadows of the throne room and the company was surprised to see a man standing off to the side. It was easy to miss him in their surveillance of the area, for he wore all back and blended into the palace. Even his mop of shaggy dark hair and stubby beard hid most of his face and it seemed as though he manifested from the palace itself. He emerged from his dark alcove, his thick cloak trailing in his own wind as he marched towards the fair-haired queen. He rested a single hand on the pommel of his sheathed broad sword at his hip, passivly demonstrating he was capable of using deadly force against the unarmed trio. "If you've seen what I have, you would be honored to call this woman queen."
Daenerys gave a soft, grateful smile to the tall dark man who returned it, but Aragorn interrupted their moment.
"With all due respect sir, who are you?" The King of Gondor eyed this odd man, but he saw distinct familiarities between himself and the stranger and knew there must be more to this man than could be seen. Much like Aragorn, his manor of dress was made from the finest materials, but years of wear and facing harsh elements distressed the once rich materials causing leather to crack and cloth to fray. Both men sported scruff on their faces, having no time to care for themselves and though they were confident, there was an uncertainty in both their eyes in knowing they had to answer the call of duty despite not wanting a role of power. Perhaps the only defining difference in the two men was their age. While Aragorn was not considered old for his Dunadan lineage, he was considerably older than the man taking his stance beside the mighty Queen.
The man dropped his hand from his sword and shifted as he conjured up his own plethora of identities, but everyone looked to the far end of the room as yet another person spoke up.
"An' I suppose since there are formalities being exchanged and people representing others, it is my turn to relay titles." he walked forward to stand beside the man dressed in black. He too had thick facial hair but it was various shades of grey, which matched his short hair. "My name is Sir Davos... an' this... This is Jon Snow... He's a bastard."
Silence.
No one spoke after the unusual introduction and the three foreigners pondered over everything.
"A bastard..." The dwarf quiped, his voice sarcastic with the realization that they were viewed as low-life foreigners not worthy of a queens time, but Jon's only identity was predicated on his parents scandalous affairs. "This man is a bastard and stands within your good graces, but a dwarf lord, elf prince and the King of all men are treated with distain?"
Daenerys flew to Jon's defense without a second thought. "Jon Snow's birth title *is* a bastard, but he has claimed the title of King of the North with his leadership skills and fighting expertise. Tell me, what is it that you have *earned* hum? What deadly foes have you faced to earn your title of *prince*? Is that not handed down? While being lord of sparkling caverns sounds fancy, did you earn that title, or were you granted it?... and you... the one who 're-forged the line of kings'... born as the heir to the throne, a connection by blood... Did you earn your title, or was *that* handed to you?" she snipped tartly, but her rampant lecture continued. "We were born to no titles and fought with everything we had to be where we are today - to be *who* we are today. Do not come here and presume that any of us are beneath you. You know nothing of the foes at our door steps and the danger we have faced to be where we are today."
Aragorn looked first to Legolas... then to Gimli before he turned back to the Queen.
"You have not heard of Sauron... have you?" The King of Gondor asked, his dubious expression set his jaw as he prepared to unleash a tale of the nightmares they faced.
Again, sloppy ending, but oh well!