AN: I have given up on only posting finished fics. There are so many WIPs I want to be able to share and discuss. This is the first one, and the newest. Titles of this fic are taken from various poems of Georg Heym. Translation of the Title: Beyond sweet sunsets, and of the Chapter Title: Thrown down far into the burning country

He never thought he would meet a godly being after he died, especially as he didn't believe, wasn't a nice person and often blasphemed. So, he was rather surprised when he stood before one after bleeding out due to a piece of metal stuck in him. And when the being talked in a thousand voices and didn't send him to hell, well…

"We have come to take you to our world, mortal, there is a task for you." Were its only worlds before it lifted him – his soul? – by the neck and began walking.

"Hey! You! What will be my reward? I won't do anything without a considerable reward!"

"Be silent!" It told him and-

When he woke he was lying on the most uncomfortable bed to ever exist. When he looked around he noticed that the miserable bed stood in a room almost more miserable than it. Where the fuck was he?

As soon as he had though that, the information he sought (and much, much more) came to his mind. But there was only one thing he was recalling clearly: Your name is Euron Greyjoy.

With a heavy headache he woke once more, a child – Aeron? – was calling his name and telling him to wake up, it was apparently time for "breaking the fast".

Fuck, it was true, he was trapped inside insane Euron, he who went so many steps too far. D- (what was his name before? how had he forgotten?) did not want to be here, at all! At least Aeron (?) – he opened his eyes and looked, truly it was little Aeron – was not fearing him, there was still hope… Which year was it?

You have landed in the year 278, you are 12 years old. Adapt.

What? Where was that voice coming from? Aeron didn't hear it, obviously, he was still prattling on. Euron was interrupted in his musing with the arrival of another boy – Urrigon Greyjoy, Urri for short – another member of his family the canon Euron would abuse and mistreat horribly. But it had not happened yet, for Urri wasn't afraid of him. Or had it only not happened yet to his family? Had Euron already mistreated others?

No! I have sent you here, because Euron has not yet become the monster he would have become, without you. You will never become that monster.

That was the voice of that godly being, and it was here- Keeping a close watch? And helping him? He would never become like canon Euron? A stone fell from his heart, the whole room seemed to brighten. Maybe the whole thing – being in a fictional world because of some being – wouldn't be that bad?

"Brother, how much did you drink last night?"

What? Oh, it had been Urri who spoke. Drinking? Well yes, he was twelve, wasn't he, not that his father would approve if he knew, but he didn't.

"Too much, little terror, to be awoken in such a manner and at this hour." Out of reflex he smiled and winked at them. And they both began to giggle. He knew, knew that they liked him and Euron – Euron, their favourite brother – did…

Nausea crept upon him, and to the appropriate noises of disgust of his little baby brothers, he threw up last night's dinner.

"You really drank too much." was the comment of Aeron while Euron was washing out his mouth with the fresh water a maid placed in his room every day.

Euron only smiled wanly at his brother as a response, being hangover was as good as an excuse as any.

The rest of the day went alright, everyone suspected that he was hangover, and that seemed excuse enough when Euron was a bit slow to react to anything. Or spacing out while having to sort through a new information dump the godly being – for who else would do that? – threw at him. In the evening he was able to act like the Euron his family knew (and loved), an Euron who was dead? But who would have died anyway and became the monster of the canon?

Well D-, whoever he had been before, could live with that death, even with the death of the nice brother Euron.

Maybe the god wanted to replace one monster with another?

The next few weeks were rather uneventful, and that meant he had almost nothing to do, the only duty he had was training in weapons. Apparently, the reformation his father, Quellon Greyjoy, tried to do didn't even including tutoring for his children by a Maester. There had been someone in the past who taught them all to count, write and read, but that was the extent of their intellectual education. So, he and all his brothers, beside Balon who was the heir, had nothing to do four hours a day. They used the time to explore the castle and its surroundings or play games. Having siblings was great, Euron had much more fun than in his other childhood. At least when he wasn't bored to tears because it was raining too much, or nobody wanted to play the same game again, or…

That would not do! And this was an excellent opportunity to make his public persona a bit more like him. This meant reading books.

He started small. One or two chapters a book about military history (if he had to place it) read during a day it was raining heavily.

Then another chapter, but not too soon afterwards, then another and another until he had read the whole book. Then another book, read a bit quicker, the next one even quicker. And in the end, after months of carefully increasing his reading, everybody accepted that Euron read every day for a few hours.

And his siblings followed him. They didn't read as much as him, and Balon (who was a bit jealous, Euron thought, that his younger brother was the favourite of many in the family) even less. But still, they all had found the joy a book could offer. Praise to his ancestors who put together a reasonably well stocked library.

Then something happened, the dreams began. Oh, they started out innocent enough, but when Euron dreamed the first time about flying with ravens over Pyke, he knew that his situation had just become much more dangerous. Bloodraven was trying to awaken his "third eye", trying to make him a greenseer. He wasn't surprised that magic or something akin to it existed, he died and had met a godly being and had awakened again. But to have one dangerous magic user interested in him, an interest which could make Euron insane...

Could he resist? Did he want to? What would make him insane and what would not?

After some more dreams, he had at least some answers. He did not want to be caught in Bloodraven's net, in the net of the Old Gods. Resisting was possible, and he hadn't gone insane so far.

Not yet at least. But there was a price none the less. He had stopped reading again, stopped doing anything really. All his energy seemed to be taken away by the fight against something who wanted to – change him. Make him more? No! Lesser. He would not become more, no matter what the raven was telling him.

Even when awake the raven was there. Was there no respite? But what was Euron even thinking, a respite in dreary Westeros?

"Are you sick?" Was now a question his brothers asked him regularly. Fear in their eyes as they had all heard the stories that the children of father's first wife had died of sickness.

"No." Euron answered every time.

"You have stopped to drink months ago, it can't be that. Euron, what is happening if you are not sick?" Was the question his father asked.

"I have weird dreams, nightmares really." Was the answer Euron finally gave. "I am flying in those dreams and then I fall and – crash."

His father did not react as Euron thought he would. He first looked startled, and then fearful.

"Are you able to wake up?"

"No. I… I can't. Do you know what is happening to me?"

His father's lips turned down. "At first there were only rumours… Young children all over the Iron Islands getting dreams just like that. And it was true, one or more every year. Many died at first, or went completely insane, some became even twisted things best not spoken about. Luckily a solution has been found. You and all your younger brothers will sail south tomorrow. This curse often falls upon the younger siblings when an older had been struck with it once. Yes, you will all sail tomorrow and will stay south until Aeron is fourteen."

Euron was speechless. He would have never thought that Bloodraven was searching for greenseers so intently. Was able to stomach that many causalities. In the books… He had always had the impression that Bloodraven trying to awaken the gifts of greenseeing was something he did sporadically. Maybe three or four attempts at the most before he got Bran. Not so often that the Lords knew of the problem, that it was fact, not rumours.

And they had even found a cure, a solution. And it sounded so plausible, Bloodraven needed Weirwoods, didn't he? And if you went south (or east), with enough distance between yourself and a Weirwood, the magic didn't work?

Interrupting Euron's internal monologue, his father spoke again.

"Fear not, son, this will be one of the last nights you will have such a dream. Go and pack your things, I will talk to your brothers. And then organise the ships who will take you all south, and send the ravens to- Hmm, Lord Dayne owes me a favour, I'm sure he will agree to take you in for the next years. I promise you." His father hugged him. And Euron began to cry, his father was helping him, and he would not become insane. "Everything will be taken care of, and I will be able to visit you soon. Fear not." His father was still hugging him and Euron continued crying in relief. Things would become better.

The next day he and Victarion and Urrigon and Aeron sailed south. They were sort of sad to go, but hopeful that it would help Euron and keep them all safe and interested in Starfall and the South. This was the gist of their chatter, in the first few hours of their journey, during which it was still interesting for his brothers that they were journeying.

Meanwhile, Euron was feeling like reading again, and listened to his brothers talk with one ear. (And ignoring their fond smiles for him, when they saw him more relaxed than he had been in months, finally reading again, smiling even!)