SI POV

'Shall we introduce ourselves before having this conversation then?'

A voice in my head - another soul in my body. This would most certainly be an… interesting experience.

When I was given the chance, I had pounced on it. Being in a coma in real life was not very productive either way. Might as well try something different.

And Westeros was the final destination apparently. My companion, though - him I knew. Somewhat.

And he was my golden ticket to get past the most bizarre Lovecraftian shit that's scattered all over this world - without dying, or worse, being expelled… from my body, of course.

Now, I was no Hermione Granger with a magic wand and an eidetic memory. But I had knowledge that would give me a slight edge over quite a few people and things in this new world.

A Son of Poseidon added to that made it a lot easier on my mental health, or maybe not. We'll see. Now, only to come to a reasonable agreement on how we would be sharing this body.

'Of course, man. Call me Nick. Nice to meet you.'

'Hmm, any reason for such a, well, frenzied response to what seems to be our mother telling us our name?'

There's the sarcasm, but well, ugh! We're in Westeros man!

'Yes! A reason? I have reasons for days! I knew I was being reborn, but why in a family known for incompetence and insanity? Why in the body of someone who was, in simple words - the equivalent of a drunk cyclops? And why be born now? It's the worst time to be born. We would be fourteen when there's a war! Not at our prime! And then we're supposed to rebel against the King. We'd be nineteen then, and the entire rebellion will be the most pointless power play ever. You've fought on the losing side before… you know how it feels when you're destined to lose.'

The conversation got out of hand as all my frustration came pouring out. I took a few deep breaths, before looking up at the mental image of the voice inside my head.

He was not happy.

'Be careful with how you address me, boy! If we were not sharing this body, I would have ripped you to pieces for that!'

I shouldn't have said that, fuck. Well, I knew he was mad, and I could see why. I needed to calm him down.

'Okay, I'm sorry for the outburst. I'm just really frustrated with the situation, and I believe you are as well. So let's clear the air between us. I know who you are, and I know of some of your capabilities and feats. You are the greatest swordsman of all time and a Son of the Sea. I also know where we are and trust me, it's not a place we can afford to stand divided. The old man was our grandfather Quellon Greyjoy. One of the wisest lords of our house. And yes, we are born into nobility - heirs of the direct line in fact. Grandfather is the current Lord Reaver of Pyke, the castle where we are at the moment.'

'Pause. Can we go back to the part where you know about me? I know I am of some acclaim but I don't see how you would know any of that unless you're a demigod yourself, or a mortal with the ability to…'

'...see through the mist? Yes, let's go with that. Along with that, I also have minor dreamsight - like that of the demigods, but more than that, I know of the world we are in. It is completely unlike the Earth you are used to, hell we both are, and this one, well, it's a cesspool of horror and magic. Most I know nothing about, but there are some who stand out. The Night's King, who commands the dead with more ability than Hades himself is one of those. And the worst part - any mortal with the knowledge or some basic training can become a mage of considerable ability. You can see where this is going. And finally, I think it will be better if we leave the talk about prophecy alone altogether.'

That somewhat gave him a shock. A world without active gods, where men could assimilate the power and declare themselves as such was a startling thought.

'We need to discuss everything you know. Then, and only then can we come to a conclusive plan of action.'

I nodded and gestured for him to go on.

'Now, even though you say you know of me, if we're going to be sharing the same headspace, I agree that proper introductions are in order.'

I smiled, 'Well then, I am Nicholas Fean, born in Scotland, raised in India, and went to college in California. I love to cook, am excellent at math and physics, and I can train dogs to be the most terrifying yet loyal group.'

What? I grew up with just my dad, who was a dog trainer and started to learn how to cook when I was ten. I grew up with dogs and math homework in a small apartment in Mumbai and made it to college with only my SATs getting me through. I pursued a pure math degree, and then while I was running with my two dogs one fine evening, the fucking bus ran me in, and I never woke up.

Looking at the image of the person across me, six feet and a couple of inches tall, with a swimmer's build, sea-green eyes, and a head of golden blond hair, I nodded to him, and he responded with a smirk.

'Interesting… personally, I love to be at sea, drink rum, and collect gold. Lots and lots of gold, yes. Also, as you said, I used to be the greatest swordsman of all time, and I promise we'll get there here as well. I can also forge enchanted gold equipment. After all, I trust no one with my gold.'

I nodded, and he raised his hand in front of me, offering a handshake. I gripped his open hand in mine and grinned at him.

'And my name, is Chrysaor, Son of Poseidon and Medusa, the Golden Sword, and the greatest pirate to ever sail the seas.'

'Well met, Chrysaor. Now I believe we have a few months to discuss events and share the knowledge we might find interesting. After all, it would be of no use to forget the important stuff, and by telling each other, we should be delaying that possibility. Also, it's not like we could do much else. So tell me Goldenboy, I can call you that, right? Cool, so, have you ever smoked weed?'