Cold winds blew in the empty courtyard, howling and bringing snow into the empty space of Winterfell, deserted of all but one. A single man, dressed in armor of divine quality and power, with a sleeveless blue tabard, displaying a white dragon, clutching a sword, with a crimson mark on its chest in the golden sun and surrounded nine golden stars, traversed the deserted yard, before reaching for the open gates and stepping through them. Moments later he was in the dark gallery like place, where statues of ancient lords and kings were displayed, with the man moving along them deeper into the bowels of this crypt, unbothered with by the darkness.
Only when he was deep enough did he reach his objective- a young and beautiful raven haired maiden, with a crown of blue roses adorning her head, holding a candle, turning to him and looking at him. There was a certain resemblance between the two of them, which was clear as day when the man removed his visored winged helmet. The man was handsome in face and looks, with long black straight hair that reached for his shoulders, eyes of the color of sky, strong jaw that was covered with a well-groomed beard. The moment though when their eyes had met, his eyes blazed with power, signifying that he was no normal man, not anymore, with the woman's face changing into one of sadness.
"You were not meant to become this, my son. Your destiny was different." She spoke with sadness and grief, akin to a mother morning loss of her son. "You do not belong with them, with these false gods and their pawns. Yours was to be a different life."
"And what my destiny was to be in your mind then, mother?" He asked, his voice betraying anger. "An exile on the Wall, a despised bastard, or plaything in the hands of the King and others? The Seven cursed curse my existence, the Old Gods ignored my pleas, and as for the King… He had what he wanted from you, his precious Visenya. All I was to him is reminder of you and your death, one that he despised and hated."
"Rhaegar never hated you. He grieved and closed off his heart from you, but never hated you. You are his son, and he loves you still." She said with serene voice, though he did not believe her, or more accurately, did not care.
"He had a strange way of showing it, then." The man simply stated, before letting out a sigh. "You have plagued my dreams with these images for months now, saying one thing over and over. Perhaps it is time you have seized your attempts. We both know, that I will not return there." Lyanna Stark's eyes locked with her son's in a contest of will.
"Westeros is your home, Daeron, and where your true family is. And that family needs you more than ever, as do the people of the Kingdoms. Cold winds are blowing from the Far North, and winter comes with them, one that brings only white death and endless horrors." Lyanna stated to him. "The Realm needs you, and you must heed its call. For the love you bear for me, my son, you…"
"Once I bore love for you, but that time has long since passed. Now… Now there is nothing. And I am no longer Daeron Targaryen. I am Galahad Sundrake." Galahad replied to her, having had enough of it, taking in a breath before speaking. "KOS VOD GAAF!" And with this Shout, the spirit of Lyanna Stark faded from the existence, and with this ended the dream.
Tamriel. Skyrim. Whiterun. 303 AC/ 4E 207
Galahad's eyes opened wide the moment he spoke the Words in his dream, and the next second he realized that he was in his bedroom, his golden eyes staring at the ceiling of his Breezehome Manor. Letting out a sigh, he gently turning his head to the left and then to the right, and saw two absolute beauties of a women sleeping on his shoulders, oblivious to the fact that he had awakened, and Galahad was most grateful for it, as the sight of her sleeping form brought a smile to his face. The last thing he wanted was to awaken his wife, Morgana, and though he was the Dragonborn, Dragon of the North Ysmir and many more things, he was not someone who liked to incur the wrath of one the strongest Dovah, besides himself and Alduin.
Most believe that Dovah, or Dragons, only possess one form and that is of massive drake, capable of flight and raining down fire, ice and more, but that was not the case. Children of Akatosh and Mara, all Dovah possess the ability to transform into a form that is distinctly human, yet is unique to them in many different ways, like in looks and aura, making them all distinct from other races. Though Dovah have no gender originally, upon obtaining this ability, they choose either male or female and settle on it forever. Though most Dovah preferred never to use this power, for in their eyes, it was unbecoming of a Dovah to lower himself to the same form and status as mortals, and when Alduin rebelled against the Aedra, he outright forbade Dovah to turn human, under the threat of death or exile. As for those who accepted this form, there were none who supported Alduin and his madness, and most either fell in battle, or fled into exile.
Morgana's parents were among the former, they've managed to escape the wrath of their elder brother, having discarded their Dovah names as a form of defiance and acceptance of their new ways. It was impossible to say that Uther and Viviane were many thousands of years old, for they looked just a bit older than Morgana, but it was undeniable that they were beautiful, as seen with their daughter. Morgana possessed a body, beauty and grace that rivaled that of goddesses, with golden sun kissed long hair that reached to her hips, warm blue-green eyes and figure that would make any woman green with jealousy. Truly, Galahad believed himself to be blessed to be with her, for she is love of his life and true treasures, equal in value and importance to only four other things.
Having lost himself in the thoughts about his wife, Galahad's memory jogged him about the dream that had plagued him not a few minutes ago, and this soured and cooled his mood. Looking out the window, he could see that the sun was not far from fully rising, and knowing that he wouldn't be able to go back to sleep now, he decided that he could start his day early, something that he had done more often than naught. Managing to gently remove himself from the embrace of Morgana, Galahad snuck his way out their bedroom, but not before dressing himself in simple and practical garments.
Once he was out of the bedroom, he was in the hallway of the second floor and Galahad moved to down to the first floor of his recently expanded house in Whiterun. Reaching the ground floor, he was about to leave the house, but before he did that, he noticed a familiar face sitting at the hearth, polishing his greatsword, dark as moonless sky and adorned with burning runes. Galahad turned to the man, older than him by five and ten years, yet not showing it in the slightest, possessing a strong build, with square jaw and short black hair and brown eyes. The man himself noticed that he was being looked at, and stood up in attention, bowing his head slightly before speaking up.
"Grand Master, I was not expecting you to be awake so soon." The man spoke politely.
"Nor was I expecting to see you up so early too, Garran. And it is Galahad to you, remember." Galahad reminded the man, who simply chuckled. "I remember the times when you used my face to mop the training yards in Daggerfall, and call me far less honorary things." Garran Crowe smiled at the memory of that, before speaking up.
"Aye, so do I and you have proven to be a worthy man to inherit the mantle of Grand Master, Galahad. And you were a good mop rag." At that the two chuckled at the joke, before Garran continued. "Is Lady Morgana going to join us soon?"
"No she is still asleep, and I have no intention of denying her the rest." Galahad said. "And what of you, Garran? Why are you up so early?"
"The same reason as always: Vaermina is always keen to tarnish my rest, and I am keen to deny her the pleasure." Garran told Galahad, who nodded to him, knowing why and how his former mentor and trusted friend had earned the ire of one of Daedric Princes. "And what of you, Galahad? It is not the first time I see you awake earlier than usual, and with the look of concern upon your visage."
"It is nothing of consequence, Garran. Just a bad dream, that's all." Galahad dismissed it as such, though he could clearly see Garran not buying it.
"Forgive me, Galahad, but I know a man who woke up from a bad dream when I see one, and you are not one of them, not to mention that compared to me, Vaermina has no reason to be cross with you." Garran noted with a small sigh. "Had you been a boy, I would have pried further and demanded you answer this question."
"Yet now I am not a boy." Galahad noted without any humor in his tone.
"No, now you are a man, a hero, and one of Grand Masters of our Order. And all I can offer now is advice: do not bury that which eats at you deep inside you." Garran told him, with Galahad nodding to him, before they heard a loud thud coming from the kitchen, forcing them to turn their attention there." Thieves or assassins?" Without a thought, Garran grabbed his greatsword and prepared for a fight, before he saw Galahad chuckle and shaking his head at that.
"Neither." Galahad said to him, as they moved to the door with Galahad reaching for the handle
The moment he opened the door, he saw quite a picturesque sight before himself: apples lying around the floor, with the bowl that held those apples placed squarely on top of a little girl's head, who herself was sitting on the floor, while near her, two boys and another girl were busy grabbing apples, before they saw that they were found out. The boys bore striking resemblance to the man, with the older one having Galahad's eyes and hair of Morgana, while younger one had blue-green eyes of his mother and darker hair of his father and both of the girls had the features of their mother, with the older one the having the eyes of her father. Gently, Galahad kneeled before his youngest daughter and took the bowl off her head, revealing warm green eyes and a head of long, messy blonde hair and unmistakable eyes of her mother, but with a few details that made it clear who her father was.
"Father." She immediately said, looking into the warm golden eyes of her father. "I…" A blush of embarrassment came upon her face, realizing that she was caught red-handed, again.
"Tried to sneak an apple off the shelf, after you saw it." Galahad calmly finished for her, his tone soft and comforting as he looked at her. "Are you hurt, Arturia?" He asked of her, who shook her head, helping her to her feet, before looking at his kids. "And what about you three? What do you have to say for yourselves
"I'm sorry I woke you and mama, or the maids." Agravain, his eldest son, said with a guilty look. "We didn't mean to make a mess, we just woke up and didn't want to wake you, so I decided to get some food. But the stool shook and..." Agravain looked at the downed stool, making it clear what had happened.
Galahad picked up the apples and put them into the bowl, but not before giving each of them, with each of his kids promptly starting to eat it.
"And how exactly did you manage to sneak past Garran, I wonder?" Galahad asked of them with a small smile.
"We snuck outside by the branches and then entered via window over there." Faye, his eldest daughter, answered, while eating her apple.
"Hm, reminds me of another rascal, who always woke up early and sneak his way into kitchens before everyone else." Garran huffed with humor, as he looked at Galahad. "Couldn't keep his hands off apples too, despite how much his bottom was tanned."
"Did we wake you, father?" Gawain asked of his father, as he finished his apple
"You didn't wake me us up, I woke up on my own. And if you woke up and was hungry, you should've woken us, or at least me, up." Galahad said with a small sigh, while Gawain nodded to him, before eating up the apple. "Guess you take after me when it comes to sleeping and eating." Galahad smiled at her, while Arturia ate her apple, before speaking up.
"You too liked to get up early and eat before everyone else?" She asked, with Galahad chuckling.
"I still do, my little sun dragon." He said with a smile. "Come, let wash your faces and get some actual food, and then, we can go visit Jorrvaskr." Kids' eyes beamed from excitement when she heard her father say it.
"Yes!" His kids almost jumped in excitement, before remembering that her mother still slept. "Sorry…" At which Galahad had suppress his own laugh, and led his children to the water basin.
It took them some time, but once they were all washed up, fed and dressed up, the two exited the manor moved towards the Wind District, with Arturia and Agravain practically running around Galahad along with Garran, with the former having a smile on his face. The streets were only beginning to fill up with people and none of the children were still out and about, but that didn't bother his kids as they ran ahead of their father, while also asking him to hurry up.
Looking at his children, Galahad couldn't help but remember his own childhood, one that was nothing like that of theirs. His was not a happy childhood, not one filled with love and joy that he and Morgana gave to Arturia, but a constant of misery and pain. Seen by his father as the one who took away his supposed love, by his good-mother and siblings as an outsider, while to the others he was a bastard, sired by then Prince Rhaegar and born alongside his trueborn sister Visenya. Born of one woman, but divided by the fate that their father determined for them, with Visenya acknowledged and legitimized, while Galahad was left a bastard, his status clear for everyone, including those who wished to do him harm, and who did it.
Very early on Galahad learned that he had no friends in the Red Keep, and that to most of the Targaryens he was an outsider, with Rhaegar practically encouraging this view with his silent permission and cold harshness he treated Galahad with, while at the same time, showering Visenya with love and fatherly affection. Alien to even his own blood, Galahad's childhood was a lonely, gloomy and most unpleasant one, and when 5 years ago Morgana gave birth to Agravain and Faye, and then a year later, to Gawain and Arturia, when he first took Agravain in his arms, he vowed that he would never let his child suffer what he had suffered. He will love all of his children he would love and care for them with all his heart, and never would he lower himself to what his father was.
Shaking off the thoughts about his former home, Galahad sped up and caught up with them, with Garran keeping up at his pace, and after a bit of a walk, they reached Jorrvaskr, the home of the Companions. Walking around the longhouse, the group scaled the steps and reached the top of the rock where the Skyforge was located, Galahad and Arturia were greeted with the sight of Eorlund Grey-Mane already heating up the forge.
"Uncle Eorlund!" Arturia excitedly called out to him, before running to him, as the old Nord turned and faced her and Galahad. "You are already working? What are you going to forge? A sword, a spear, an axe?"
"Calm yourself, lass, before you bite your tongue, or jump off to the skies from all that excitement." Eorlund grumbled as he blew the bellows, with Arturia looking like she was ready to quite literally jump in the skies. "By Shor, girl, isn't it a little too early for you? Most kids these days sleep until sun is high up."
"And most old men sleep until sun is well past noon." Galahad commented, as he stepped closer to his daughter.
"Aye, but someone has to take care of all the arms that the Companions are using. Great warriors all of them, and complete idiots when it comes to how to even sharpen a blade without losing all of their fingers." Eorlund spoke, as he continued heating up the forge.
"Father knows how to sharpen a blade, and make a new one, and he is the greatest warrior of all." Faye pointed it out, with Eorlund nodding to her.
"That is true, lass, which is why I have him repair his own equipment." Eorlund noted with a huff, as he finally heated up the forge. "Now, why are all of you up and about at such an early hour?"
"We just woke up, that's all." Galahad answered, before he looked at the weapons that needed repair. "Farkas' sword gotten dull again?"
"Aye, for the third time in the month already. I swear it's like he's using his sword to chop wood instead of foes." Eorlund said in a gruff manner. "Well, since you are here, might as well go ahead and make yourself useful, Harbinger. And as for you, rascals, there's your training swords and dummies. Feel free to beat it to death." And with that, Galahad took up Farkas' sword and moved to the sharpening stone, while his children went on ahead to train with the dummies, with Garran supervising the entire affair.
A few hours later.
Once Galahad was done helping out Eorlund, he moved down to supervise Arturia's practice, and also get a bit of practice as well, not that he needed it, really. His body and instincts were on a level beyond that of a simple mortal man, with Galahad possessing strength, speed, agility and stamina that were outside of reach for anyone, even if one were to use enchantments.
Being born with the blood of the Dovah is one thing, but even among Dragonborns of the past, Galahad was different, unique due to the fact that he was blessed not just by Akatosh, but by all of Aedra and even by Shor himself. Such blessings showed themselves in various ways, like mastery of arts, arcane ways and arms, or growing stronger and faster than others, with the clearest evidences being his eyes and a birthmark on his chest in form of a red ruby.
But the true extend of his difference from others, or what priests call his divinity, was revealed when he slew his first Dovah and absorbed his soul, and with the knowledge of Dovah, came power and change. Every soul taken further fueled Galahad's power and might, but also changed and transformed him into something more than mere mortal, fueling and opening up parts of himself that he didn't knew existed. Only later did he learn from Paarthurnax that the souls of Dovah enhanced his powers, but also forced a change of his nature, or an evolution, as Alexstraza called it.
Slowly, with every Dovah slain, Galahad himself transformed spiritually and in nature into more than simple Dragonborn, becoming someone closer to that of Aedra and Akatosh, someone on par in status and power to Alduin when the two finally faced off against one another in Sovngarde. There Alduin acknowledged Galahad not as a mortal, but as a Dovah and even a brother of sorts to himself, equal in might and power, and their battle revealed to Galahad that he was indeed more than Dovah or Man at that point. And upon the defeat of Alduin, the rest of Dovah acknowledged him as the strongest, and pledged themselves to him, and thus Galahad took the place of Alduin as Lord of Dragons, or Thursedov, as they liked to call him now.
Him might and power in arms or magic were undeniable, and he was extremely hard to kill, while time itself had neither power nor sway over him, meaning he achieved immortality. He could move fast enough to keep up with Dovah, strike hard enough to break steal plate, and fight for days without rest and not feeling winded in the slightest. Even his Thu'um now so powerful, that even a single Word could cause untold destruction if he was not careful, so he had to be careful with how much power he could put in his Shouts. And along with all of this, came an aura of power and authority that all Dovah possessed, something that allowed them to bend others to their will, with Galahad's being strong enough to break even Dovah into submission, hence why he restrained it through mental focus, thanks to his training with Paarthurnax.
While his mind were occupied with such thoughts, Galahad's body was moving around, as he wielded a blunted training glaive against three Nord fresh bloods, armed with swords. Having noticed how these three particular newcomers were acting with unwarranted pride and arrogance, Galahad had decided that now it was time to teach them a lesson. Though the Companions had no official leader and he was a Harbinger, a counselor and an advisor to them, unofficially, Galahad was seen as the second Ysgramor, though they referred to him as Ysmir. And these three definitely needed to be dealt with, for they acted disrespectfully towards those that were their brothers and sisters in arms, looking down on them simply due to them having served either as a Stormcloak or a Legionary.
After dividing up all three of them, Galahad them made short work of them, bring them down to the ground, before stopping and putting his glaive down, and speaking up to them and others around him.
"Tell me, is this worth boasting about?" He asked of the three. "No, it is not, nor are your skills with the blade, your bravery or courage warranting so much blistering as you've been making. If you wish to boast about something, then first earn the right to do so, not by word, but by deed and feat. I may have accepted you into Companions, but you are yet to earn the right to speak as you did, and before you do that, you will learn first how to fight properly. From now on, you are barred for a month from taking on contracts, are to train here, under the eye of a senior Companion, and if I hear about you slacking or continuing on with your attitudes, you'll learn what it means to draw the ire of the Circle." And with that, Galahad put the glaive in the stand, while Vilkas, Farkas and Aela moved closer to him.
"Fine job teaching these whelps a lesson." Aela noted, as she watched the rest of the Companions go about their business. "It'll also be a lesson to others, who might think that just because they've been accepted here, they can say whatever they wish."
"Aye that was the idea, considering that we've swollen in numbers over the past year." Galahad said. "I remember when there were less than a hundred of Companions, and now we are not too far from getting all five hundred of the numbers."
"Many of them are drawn not just by the promise of glory and gold, but also by the chance to see and fight alongside you, Ysmir." Vilkas said respectfully. "You've brought a new life to our brotherhood, something that the Old Man would've wished to see. I at times wonder if he looks at us with pride from Sovngarde, now that the Companions are again clean."
"He does, Vilkas. He and Ysgramor both." Galahad assured him, before he turned to Farkas. "By the way, Farkas, Eorlund wanted me to tell you, that the next time you blunt your sword like you did, he'll instead get you a hammer."
"But he did fix it, right?" Farkas asked, with Galahad simply shaking his head at that.
"Aye, he did. And you are in charge of overseeing those three for the first week." Galahad simply told him, with Farkas looking at him with shock, while he moved to Agravain and Arturia, who were sitting on the bench.
"Wow, Father, you are really good with that spear!" Agravain said in amazement. "Can you teach me how to fight like that?"
"It's actually a glaive, Agravain, a relative of spear, and I'm sure your father will be more than happy to do so, when you are big enough." Morgana's voice drew the attention of Galahad and his children, with the kids hopping off the bench and from dummies and running to hug her. "Imagine our surprise when we woke up: our bed is empty and cold, while our children are nowhere in sight. It would appear that you are in need of a bit of disciplining, my dear husband." Morgana said with a slightly humorous tone.
"Oh, and what about my little accomplices?" Galahad chuckled, as his children turned to look at him with a betrayed look.
"They shall will be serving out their punishment with Garran, if he is available…" Garran simply nodded and motioned the children to go with him, leaving Galahad with his wife.
"You know that it's less of a punishment and more of a reward." Galahad reminded Morgana, who chuckled at that.
"Perhaps, but it serves a purpose at the moment." Morgana's tone turned into a more serious one, with Galahad catching onto it. "Galahad, we need to talk." Knowing that there was no denying her, Galahad simply nodded to them, and the three headed to the personal chambers of Harbinger within the longhouse, before arriving them and closing the door.
"This is about me sneaking out in the morning, isn't it?" Galahad asked of them, with Morgana shaking her head softly.
"Had it been before this month, we wouldn't think anything of it. After all, both you and Arturia are early risers." Morgana noted, before she turned with a concerned look towards her mate. "But for almost the entire month you have been troubled by something, Galahad. I can see it in your eyes, beloved, the way you seem to lose yourself in thought, or when you suddenly wake up at night or early in the morning."
"I thought at first it was your occasional brooding, but when it became more frequent and you started to wake up suddenly at night… Galahad, we are worried for you." Morgana told him with a concerned tone, as she moved closer to him. "You don't need to tell us that this is nothing, or that you can handle it, because we know you can handle anything, but this is not something you can end with a blade. Please, Galahad, talk to us." Galahad looked them in them in the eyes, and after letting out a sigh, spoke up.
"It's… It's Lyanna Stark." Galahad simply said. "She is the reason of my concern."
"Your mother?" Morgana asked in a slightly surprised tone. "But she died when she delivered you, right?"
"Aye, she did. I have no memory of her in any way, never even saw her face or heard it described to me, and yet she, or rather her spirit, has been visiting me in my dreams, taking me to Winterfell, and speaking to me about my fate and what my purpose is, or it was supposed to be." Galahad stated to them, with Alexstraza tensing up a little when she heard it. "According to her, I was not to become the Dovahkiin or a demi-god I am now, and that the Old Gods had a different purpose for me. At times, she sounded as I have run away from what I was supposed to be."
"And do you feel like you have made the wrong choice?" Morgana asked of him, with Galahad immediately shaking his head.
"Never." Galahad said without hesitation. "She may be trying to convince me otherwise, or tried so, but I never doubted my own choices, especially now. Maybe she simply chides me for not playing as a pawn in game of her gods."
"You were never a pawn or a tool of anyone, especially other deities, false or true ones." Morgana immediately told him, as she moved to him. "You were given your blood and soul by Akatosh and Shor, yes, but the choices and actions that you took were always your own. A Dovah does not bend easily to the will of Gods, and you bend to no one's will, hence why you are so favored by Boethiah and hated by Molag Bal." At the mention of that, Galahad simply chuckled.
"Perhaps and yet… There is something that she has been mentioning, over and over again, that I can't simply shake off." Galahad spoke, as he recalled. "She said many times, how cold winds blew from the Far North, bringing with them endless horrors and white death, and every time she spoke of them, she urged me to go back to Westeros. It's almost like she wants me to stop this supposed apocalypse."
"That "horror" she speaks of was stopped by one of Shor's Avatars almost ten millennia ago, and it was the horror of "the Old Gods" making, one that they unleashed in hopes of returning to their original state of spiritual entities, before Nirn was created." Morgana stated to Galahad. "Only their creations turned against them, and instead of delivering them their salvation brought their death. Now, only husks and shades of their former selves remain, nameless and forgotten, replaced in their roles and authority by Kyne. As for those creatures, they were banished from Nirn, never to set foot in it again."
"And yet she spoke as if that horror is coming back." Galahad revealed. "Was the same not said about Alduin?"
"His was a different kind of banishment." His wife reminded to him. "And if they are coming back, or you believe that they do so, what shall you do, Galahad? Shall you rush to defend that realm?" Her question lingered in the air for a bit, before Galahad gave his response.
"You know the answer to that, Morgana: if the Nirn is in danger, I will always answer the call, as is my duty now. But Westeros is not all Nirn, and I am not a solution to every problem they have." Galahad said strongly. "Call it selfish or cruel, but just because my long dead mother calls me to answer my "supposed" duty, I won't budge and abandon my life here. Gods or no gods, none can command me without my say so." Galahad's dragon aura showed itself a little, with Morgana shuddering a little at that, before moving to him and hugging him closely.
"Good." She said. "And as for your visitor, shall we exorcise her out your thoughts?"
"No need, I've taken care of it." Galahad assured her. "I've had enough her, so I banished her away from me through a Shout." Galahad told her, with Morgana closing her eyes and let him hug her closer.
The two remained in this position for some time, basking in the presence and feeling of one another, needing not any words to be said between them, for to them, their love and affection came not just through words, but also through silence.
A month later.
A trio of men rode their mounts towards the outer gates of Whiterun, where before the entrance near the road they saw a massive statue made out of white marble. It depicted a duel between two men, one armed with a longsword and bearing the symbol of a dragon, while the other held a hammer and shield in both hands, while three dragons lay at the feet of the swordsman. The three men stopped to look at the statue, immediately recognizing one of the men depicted here, for well over twenty years ago, two of them had faced off against him, and drove him off of their future liege and king. They dismounted, and after seeing their horses to the stables, moved to the statue, where they read the writing.
"To Ysmir Galahad Sundrake, Savior of Whiterun, Great Thane of Skyrim, Dragonborn and Stormbringer, in honor of his stalwart defense of our city and felling Robert Baratheon, the Oathbreaker and Foul Stag." Jaime Lannister read the tablet, before speaking up. "I've always wondered where did Robert go, if not even Spider could not find him, and what became of him. Always thought he either died in a fight or from too much wine. I guess I now have the answer to that question."
"Maybe, but it is not him we track, Kingslayer." Ser Arthur Dayne spoke up, as he moved closer to him, before looking up at the statue. "Still, I can't help but feel robbed of the chance to present that Foul Stag to His Grace, in chains and shackles."
"Do not sulk on it, Ser Arthur. Maybe we'll be lucky and be able to bring a souvenir to the King and..." Jaime jokingly told him, before they heard a distant roar up in the skies, forcing them to look up. "By the Seven…" Jaime said in a hushed tone, as they saw a massive form of the dragon fly through the skies, while the three Westerosi knights looked up in awe.
"Still fucking terrifies me every time I hear one of 'em." Benjen Stark said, as he looked up, calming down when the dragon finally left their view. "I know that these are supposed to be different all that dragons, but I simply can't wrap my head around how people so readily accepted them without any problem, especially after all the destruction they caused some years ago, from what I hear."
"We've accepted them because them dragons helped us defeat Thalmor for good just two years ago, and because they protect us now, thanks to Ysmir himself." The trio of knights drew their attention towards the man in a steel plate armor of Nordic style, who came to them from behind. "From your accent I'll take a guess and say you are not from Skyrim or Tamriel for that matter. You are from far away?"
"Aye, we are." Benjen admitted. "I am Benjen Stark, and these are Ser Jaime Lannister and Ser Arthur Dayne." The two men nodded to the Nord.
"I am Vilkas, a member of the Companions." Vilkas introduced himself. "So, you two are knights, huh?"
"We are Knights of the Kingsguard, sworn protectors of the King of Seven Kingdoms." Jaime Lannister replied, with Vilkas raising his eyebrow at that.
"Seven Kingdoms? You mean Westeros, that's a bloody half a world away from here, what in Shor's name have you two forgotten in Skyrim?" Vilkas asked of them.
"We are on a mission from our liege, to search and find someone very important to him." Arthur Dayne stated with steel in his tone, with Vilkas nodding to him. "We have reasons to believe that the man we are seeking is associating himself with you, so we would appreciate if you could help us find him, good ser."
"I am no Ser, unlike our Harbinger here." Vilkas pointed towards statue of Galahad. "And is this man you are tracking, is he a kingslayer, or has he stolen a relic from your King?"
"He… It is rather complicated." Jaime simply said. "It is of utmost importance that we find him. That is all we can say at the moment."
"If you say so, and who exactly is it that you seek?" The Companion asked of them.
"The one this statue is dedicated to, Galahad." Benjen stated to Vilkas. "We've heard that he has houses in all of cities of Skyrim, and we tried to find him in Solitude and Markarth, but had no luck."
"Aye, imagine so." Vilkas said to them. "Had a feeling that you were after Galahad, he has a knack for attracting attention, especially when he doesn't want it."
"You have our word that we mean him no harm, but it is urgent that we speak with him. Our King specifically sent us after him, and we are not leaving until we meet with him." Arthur Dayne stated to Vilkas. "Do you know where he is?"
"Aye, he's in the city, might as well take you to him, if you want." Vilkas told them, before motioning them to follow him. "I can see that you aren't gonna rest until you see him. Follow me." The trio followed Vilkas.
"Then, he is in the city, are you sure of it?" Benjen asked almost excitedly.
"Aye, pretty sure of it. Seen him just two days ago, when I went to take care of a pack of wolves in the woods south of here." Vilkas told them. "If nothing serious came up while I was gone, he should still be in Whiterun. Knowing him, he's probably either at the Skyforge, crafting another legendary weapon, or training recruits at the training yard."
"Forge weapons? You mean he is just a smith?" Arthur asked of him, with Vilkas simply chuckle.
"Just a smith? That lad's the best smith in all of Skyrim, if not all of Tamriel, and he's far more than that. It's easier to say what he isn't rather than what he is." Vilkas simply said. "From a healer to a warrior, from Champion of Talos and Shor to being Ysmir himself… The land hasn't seen his kind since Talos himself walked the earth."
"Yes, we've noticed that he is held in quite a great regard all over the land." Jaime noted. "Tell us, that statue at the entrance of the city, how did Galahad come to clash with Robert Baratheon?"
"I guess you Westerosi never really heard of it, but there was major rebellion and a civil war here in Skyrim not three years ago or so. Four years ago, leader of the rebels, or Stormcloaks, Ulfric Stormcloak attacked Whiterun with his main forces, supported by a mercenary force, led by Robert Baratheon." Vilkas began the tale. "That took Whiterun and the Empire by complete surprise, especially since Baratheon was supposedly on Empire's side, but, for some reason, he switched sides. He and his men sacked Riverwood, burning it to the ground, and then cleared a path for Ulfric to get his forces to Whiterun. Within a few days, the city was surrounded and besieged, with the Empire nowhere close to help. All we had were some 4 thousand men, against 16 thousand men, and so Ulfric commenced the attack, believing he could get an easy victory."
"I'm guessing that didn't come to pass." Benjen commented.
"Nay, it did not. Thrice the Stormcloaks tried to breach our walls, and thrice they were repelled, with Galahad always finding himself where the fighting was the fiercest and the thickest. On the fourth day, they catapults managed to bring down both of our gates, so we sallied out, with Galahad leading the charge at the vanguard. The man fought for three days before, but you could not tell, because the moment he reached the enemy line, he began to cut them to pieces." Vilkas said, as he remembered the carnage. "I've seen him carve a bloody path, killing thirty men with his sword alone, before we all heard the roar, then the second, and then the third, and then… We look up, and ran for our lives. Three dragons, headed our way, attracted by the battle, enough to wipe us all out, but Galahad didn't run. He stayed, and fought them."
"Fought them? Alone? That's impossible." Arthur replied. "No man can defeat a dragon, let alone three."
"No mere man may not, but Galahad ain't no mere man, Ser, of that I can assure you. I don't know why, but the moment those dragons reached the field, they fully turned their attention to Galahad, and unleashed all of their Shouts and fury upon him. I know not all the details of how he did it, but by the time day turned to dusk, all three Dragons fell to his blade, and he returned back to the city and stood watch, making sure that Stormcloaks didn't attack." Vilkas told them, as they passed the inner gates and headed towards Wind District. "On the fifth day, Ulfric offered Jarl Balgruuf a parlay, and he accepted, only for Ulfric to try and seize Balgruuf, but Galahad was there with our Jarl and fended off the ambush, coming face to face with Baratheon. Galahad had a personal grudge towards Baratheon for destroying Riverwood and slaughtering people there, not to mention that the man was an oathbreaker and led all of the attacks on Whiterun. Galahad made quick work of that bastard, claiming his hammer as his own and used it to carve a bloody path to Ulfric when he launched his next attack. Galahad nearly rend him apart, and he only saved himself by running away, with his army soon following. Ulfric would curse the day he made an enemy of the Dragonborn till his very death a year later."
"Did he die in battle?" Jaime asked of Vilkas.
"Of sorts, aye. Armies of the Empire were at the gates of Windhelm, when Ulfric decided, as a last ditch attempt at saving his life, to challenge Tullius, general of the Empire, to an honorable duel. However, instead of Tullius, Ulfric faced Galahad, who at that time was a commander in Empire's army. Galahad stripped naked of his armor, with only his breaches and boots as garments, wielding a simple iron sword, while Ulfric came in full ebony plate and with shield and axe." Vilkas continued. "Ulfric tried to use his Voice against Galahad, but he was too quick and didn't get hit, and instead soon found himself with a blade in his throat. With a single stroke, Galahad ended the rebellion and war."
"It sounds almost too good to be true…" Arthur Dayne said skeptically.
"You can judge for yourself, if he is not what I said he is." Vilkas said, as they reached Jorrvaskr, and he opened doors inside, finding it surprisingly less populated than it usually is, but with Galahad and Garran in there, discussing matters with some of the Companions. "There he is." The trio of knights was surprised and shocked to see the man they were tracking down for so long right there.
"Good job on that crypt. We'll have something to drink to tonight for certain." Galahad smiled to the Companions, congratulating on their deeds, before letting them go and turning to Vilkas. "Vilkas, you are back already, and you bring… guests." Galahad's eyes widened slightly when he recognized who it were that Vilkas brought with him, with his left hand instinctively reaching for his sword on his hip, with Garran wasting not a second, reaching for his blade as well.
"Prince Maegor, it has been a long time." Ser Arthur Dayne said to him, with Vilkas looking at Galahad with surprise and confusion. "You have grown into quite a man, since we last seen each other."
"I wish it were longer, Ser Arthur." Galahad replied with a cold tone. "What are you doing in here?"
"Galahad, is there something I should know, or…" Vilkas asked, before briefly meeting Galahad's eyes, and understanding without words what he should do. "Aye, I'll see to it that you aren't disturbed." And with this, Vilkas hurried out of the hall, leaving Galahad alone with the three knights.
"Lad, by the Gods, look at you… If only Lya could see you right now…" Benjen was at awe from finally seeing his nephew, but Galahad shared none of his positivity.
"I asked you a question, all three of you: what are you doing here, in Skyrim, on the other side of the world?" Galahad repeated his question in cold tone, eyeing the three men with cold gaze.
"His Grace has sent us after you, Prince Maegor. Your father wished us to find you, and to bring you back home." Ser Jaime told him with a sigh, with Galahad looking him the eyes and seeing the truth in his words. "And I must tell that it was no easy feat to find you. Not helped by the fact of you changing your name."
"It is a name that he wears with pride and honor, opposite of what his previous one was." Garran stated coldly, drawing the attention of the Kingsguards and Stark.
"And who might you be to say that?" Jaime asked of him.
"Ser Garran Crowe, High Paladin of the Order of the Dragon and Castellan of the Brotherhood of Purifiers." Garran responded.
"So is it Brotherhood of Dragons or Order of Purifiers, I am confused?" Jaime flippantly joked, with Garran narrowing his eyes upon him, while he turned his attention to Galahad. "It seems this land certainly doesn't lack for fancy titles and names, Prince Maegor."
"Only for those that are earned by deed and right, and I am not Maegor. I am Galahad Sundrake, and you would do well to remember it, Kingslayer, along with the two of you." Galahad stated with narrowed eyes.
"Regardless, of how you are addressed in this foreign land, you are still Maegor Targaryen, son of King Rhaegar Targaryen and Lady Lyanna Stark." Arthur Dayne stated to him. "And your father has sent us after you, to bring you at last back home."
"And for what purpose would he need me to go back to King's Landing, exactly?" Galahad asked of them, his hand still on the hilt of his blade. "Does he still intend to send me off to the Wall, or is he going to execute me this time. And since when am I considered a Targaryen? Last time I remember someone calling me such, Rhaegar rebuked the man and said: "That thing is neither Targaryen, nor Stark. He is just Maegor the Cruel, for taking his mother at birth from his sister and me." Galahad reminded them, making Arthur wince a bit from the memory
"Maegor… Galahad, it's none of what you said… Look, lad, I know that you have your reasons for distrusting him, but the King just wants for you to come home. He is even going to forgive you for what you have done." Benjen told him, and that got a reaction out of Galahad.
"He is going to forgive me?" Galahad asked with his tone indicating incredulity. "That fucking man is going to forgive me?! After all that he has done to me, all that he has allowed Viserys to do to me, he still thinks that I care for his fucking forgiveness?!"
"Choose your words carefully, Prince. You speak of your father and your King." Ser Arthur reminded him harshly, with no effect on Galahad.
"He has not been my king or my father for over 14 years now, and even before that, he has made it clear many times, that I am nothing but an unwanted refuse to him, a stain on his perfect life." Galahad practically spat it out.
"That still does not change the fact that you are guilty of the crime you have committed." Arthur added, uncaring if it were to spark Galahad's fury or not. "It was your hand that had ended Prince Viserys, Maegor. Your hands are stained with his blood, blood of your kin. You should be grateful that His Grace offers you a chance at redemption."
"We all know that Viserys' hands too were stained in blood of his kin, my blood, many more times and long before I ended him, and we all know who allowed him such leniency and privilege." Galahad narrowed his eyes at the Kingsguards. "The two of you saw it more than enough times, how he beat me until I lost conscience and long past it, or how he tormented me, simply because he could, and what did you do, good Ser? I'll tell you: nothing."
"You know of our vows, Prince…" Jaime said with shame in his voice.
"Yet those same vows did not stop you from killing a crazed lunatic of a king, when he was about set the capitol ablaze. You know, of all the Kingsguards, with you, I at least had some measure of hope, that you would stop Viserys from hurting me, and yet…" Galahad said with venom in his voice. "So much for "doing the right thing despite the vows." At the very least, it taught me not to take my vows lightly, and never to make them just to break them later."
"It is unbecoming of you, Maegor. You are speaking about your grandfather." Arthur narrowed down his eyes at him, with Galahad remaining undeterred.
"And what do you know about me, Dayne? Last time you saw me I was 8 years old and was to be sent off on a ship to the Wall for defending my life. Now I am 20 years old, and I am not the scared kid I used to be." Galahad stated. "But I digress. I am curious, how did you find me and for what purpose does Rhaegar want me back? Enlighten me in that regard, and I might listen to what you have to say."
"Your father wishes for you to return back to Westeros, to reconcile and put the past behind the two of you. He has already issued an edict that legitimized you, and any of your potential children from marriage, and will officially acknowledge you as Prince of Summerhall." Benjen spoke up. "As for how he found where you are, he learned of it from a Priestess of Lord of Light, Melisandre is her name. She is a sorceress in all but name, she claims that her Lord of Light showed her a vision of you and where you are, and Rhaegar believed her, and sent us after you. And it turns out, she was right, though it did take us almost three moons to find you" At the mention of Lord of Light, Galahad exchanged looks with Garran.
"Looks like Meridia has decided to again enlist me in her services." Galahad cryptically said, with Garran understanding his meaning, before Sundrake turned to the Westerosi and spoke again. "Even if he has decided to get me back, I have no intention of returning there. You have wasted your time coming here, and I suggest you leave. Not just Jorrvaskr, but Skyrim and Tamriel for good. Tell Rhaegar, that his son is long dead or something." With that said, Galahad finally removed his hand off his sword, with the three of Westerosi looking at him with confusion and incredulous eye.
"You… You cannot just turn your back on your family and birthright like that, Maegor!" Arthur Dayne said with indignation. "Only a fool and a craven would turn his back on his family like that, without even a second thought."
"You test the limits of my patience, Dayne, and that is not a good idea, even for you." Galahad said with threatening glare, quite unpleased by the fact that he was called both a fool and a craven, which irked his Dovah nature. "Leave now, or else I'll have you answer for your words in a less civilized manner." Dayne didn't back down, though much to his own surprise, felt quite a tingle of fear run down his spine when he stared into eyes of prodigal Prince.
"His Grace ordered us to get you back by whatever means necessary. If I must, I will make you come with us." Arthur assured Galahad, putting his hand on the handle of his sword Dawn, with Galahad smirking a bit at that. "You will comply, Prince, or I shall make you."
"Oh, I do not think so…" Galahad prepared to reach for his weapon, when Benjen spoke up.
"Enough, Ser Arthur! By the Old Gods, are you really going to fight him, just to make him come with us?!" Benjen looked at him incredulously. "You are a Knight of Kingsguard and Sword of the Morning, act like one." That seemed to knock sense back into Arthur Dayne and he relented, with Galahad doing the same.
"Wise choice, now leave. If you need, you can stay for the night in the inn, I'll cover the expenses, but I will not have you linger in here any longer." Galahad stated with force.
"Alright, Galahad, you… You have made your point." Benjen relented, before reaching into his bag and pulling out a sealed letter. "But, before we leave, there is something that I want to give to you. A letter, addressed to you."
"If it is from Rhaegar, then you may as well throw it into the fire." Galahad told him, with Benjen shaking his head at that.
"No, it is from Queen Mother." That had gotten a surprised reaction out of Galahad. "She asked me to deliver it to you, no matter your reaction or decision towards us and King's command." Benjen extended his hand and gave the letter to Galahad, who took it, unsealing it, before reading its contents.
Whatever the words were written in the letter were enough to extinguish the fire of fury in Galahad's eyes and calm him, as he read it. Garran stood close to his former pupil, yet not dared to ask or look at the letter, but from just looking at Galahad and his posture, he knew that this just changed everything. The letter was not a lengthy or profound one, but it took several minutes for Galahad to read it, and even after he was done, he needed time to process and think it all through, before he finally came to the decision and spoke up.
"You can stay in the inn. I'll take care of the expenses for your stay." Galahad told them before carefully folding the letter and tucking it away, before letting out a sigh. "I will need a month to prepare. Until then, you are not to seek me out without my say so, and if you decide to harass me, my friends or my family, I'll have you shipped in boxes back to Westeros." The three looked at him with surprise, not expecting such a complete turnabout.
"Does that mean that you will come with…" Jaime asked, before Galahad interrupted him.
"Yes, does that satisfy you? Now out of sight." Galahad told them, but Dayne decided to interject.
"As you know, Prince Maegor, we are Kingsguards, and therefore must…" Dayne tried to speak, but then Galahad has had enough, and allowed himself to reveal a bit of his Dovah aura, immediately overwhelming the will of the three.
"Get. Out." Galahad spoke in low, calm and threatening tone, and this time, the three obeyed, their very souls compelling them to leave his presence, and so they finally did, exiting Jorrvaskr, while Galahad regained control over himself. "By Talos, I swear that it's like my life is nothing but a plaything in hands of others…" Galahad quietly said, before he shook his head.
"Perhaps, but it is your choice, whether to play them or not. And you have chosen to play it." Garran told him, with Galahad letting out a sigh. "What is your command, Grand Master?" Garran asked of Galahad, needing not to ask him for details of the letter, for it was unimportant for him.
"Send word out to all of our Brothers in Skyrim, along with Grand Masters Pendragon and Kai. Have our Brothers come here to Whiterun, as well as Grand Masters." Galahad told Garran. "Best not leave our Brotherhood leaderless in my absence and without explanations on how to act and behave. I'll need to appoint a regent in my stead."
"And select the Honor Guard for you and your family." Garran added. "You are one of 8 Grand Masters of our Order, not to mention the greatest hero of our Order and all of Tamriel. Going in that place alone with your family without a suitable contingent of Knights is at least foolish."
"That is true." Galahad agreed, before turning to Garran. "I will need trusted men with me there. Can I count on you?"
"You need not ask." Garran simply stated to him, with Galahad nodding to him, before proceeding to think of the ways to plan it all out, as well as how to break the news to his wife and children.
And so, once again, his life was thrown upside down by the machinations and games of Gods, and yet, as always, Galahad was not going to back down from the challenge, even if he must confront the past that he wished stayed as far away from him as possible. He only prayed to Akatosh and Talos, that they watch over his children and wife, for where he was going with them was no place where he would want them to be. All too well he remembered that nest of vipers, and all too well Galahad recalled the venomous snakes that populated it, and him coming to them with his family would rattle them like nothing else in the world. He could already sense that he was made part of their "game of thrones", a war for power and prestige waged without war or battles, but through schemes and intrigue, in which Galahad wanted no part of it.
But if he was going there, he would have to play, and play well he shall. There is a reason why along with Meridia, Azura and Sheogorath, Boethiah counted herself among the most loyal of patrons of Galahad, outside of Aedra. Where would Plots, Schemes, Treachery and Deceit be more prevalent than in the heart of the Seven Kingdoms?
Three months later. Dragonstone.
Queen Mother Rhaella Targaryen sat in her chair in the hall with the famous Carved Table of Westeros, overlooking the eastern sea, with her gaze fixed upon the expanses of the seas. For an uncounted time, she had sat here, motionless and seemingly without any will or desire to move or at times breathe, and at times, she had even hoped for a second that it would be the moment when her life would finally come to an end. Today was not one of such moments, for today she had hope, a slim and weak one, but hope none the less. Hope that she would get to see her grandson, Maegor, after over 14 years of believing that he had perished in the seas, having been sent to the Wall after he had to do the unthinkable- kill her son and his uncle, Prince Viserys Targaryen.
Unthinkable it was in the eyes of all the realm and its people, but Rhaella knew better than most that what Maegor did was done not out of malice or sinister intent, as Rhaegar and others made everyone think, but out of desperation to save his own life. Rhaella didn't need the word of her grandson on that, because she knew, that Viserys possessed the worst aspects of her later husband, with his madness manifested in his maniacal aggression and desire for power. Ever since Rhaegar became King, Viserys' madness manifested and took hold of him, leading to him wishing death and suffering upon those that he believed who took what was rightfully his. Yet, so long as Rhaegar was King, Viserys never dared to even look funnily at anyone with Targaryen bloodline… except for Maegor, the unwanted son that Rhaegar despised for the simple fact of existing.
For as much Rhaegar adored and loved his youngest daughter Visenya, he hated Maegor twice as much, never even fully acknowledging him as his legitimate son, letting his status be that of a bastard. Another indicator of his hatred of the boy was the choice of his name- there was only one known Maegor in Targaryen House, the infamous Maegor the Cruel, a King so despised and hated, that no Targaryen dared to name their son this way ever again, until Rhaegar. Since the moment he was brought to the Red Keep, Maegor was alone in the nest of vipers, where nearly everyone either didn't care for him, or hated him, with only Rhaella showing the poor child love and affection he needed and deserved, for not even his own blood would do so.
His siblings either preferred not to think of him, or ignore, while Visenya despised him for the death of their mother, thanks in no small part to Rhaegar infecting her mind with these thoughts. Daenerys cared not an ounce for her nephew, while Elia saw in Maegor only a threat to her son and daughter and a evidence of her husband betraying her, though she hid it all too well. But the worst of all was Viserys, who realized the status of Maegor and took to tormenting and torturing Maegor for now other reason other than that he could do so and vent out his frustrations and sate his sick desires. Nobody either dared or cared to stop Viserys' insanity and Maegor's suffering, with only Rhaella serving as the protective bastion for her tormented grandson, for as long as she was near, even Viserys dared not do as much evil as he wished.
But one day, she was not near them, when the news arrived that Lucerys Velaryon had died, Rhaella was sent to Dirftmark, to attend his funeral as the representative of the Crown. Though she held no love for the man, his wife was a dear friend and for the sake of comforting her, Rhaella agreed, though her heart was heavy from the decision. Throughout the entire time of her absence from King's Landing, a gnawing bad feeling filled her, leaving her in constant worry for her grandson, until the raven arrived with the news. And once she heard them, she rushed back to King's Landing as soon as she could, but was too late…
14 years ago. King's Landing. Red Keep.
Ignoring the nobles, servants and others, Rhaella moved with as much haste as she could through the halls of Red Keep, with Ser Barristan Selmy barely managing to keep up with her. She hurried, for she knew that any hesitation would damn the sole person in her family whom she loved unconditionally. Once she reached the doors of the King's solar, Ser Arthur Dayne was about to speak, but seeing the look in her eyes, simply decided to let her in without saying a word. Inside, just as Rhaella had expected, were her son Rhaegar, her gooddaughter Elia and the Hand of the King Jon Connington, all in mourning colors, signifying the fact that they were mourning the death of Viserys. Without even waiting for their greetings, Rhaella spoke up with a tone that would've been unheard of from a once meek and beaten down Queen.
"Out, both you." She commanded, as she looked eyes with Rhaegar, reading his emotionless face.
"Your Grace, it is a surprise to see you back so soon. Please, allow me to offer to you my most sincere condolences. Prince Viserys' death is a tragedy for all of the Realm and it's people weep…" Connington's words were enough to enflame Rhaella's temper, as she interrupted him.
"Have you gone deaf, Rooster? I said to get out, now." Rhaella stated to him, with Connington flinching, but remaining where he was.
"Your Grace, may I inquire, why are you not in mourning clothes?" Connington asked of her, unbothered by the fact that he was addressing someone who was higher than him in status. "It is unbecoming of a grieving mother to…"
"Lord Hand, I suggest you do as Her Grace commands." Barristan Selmy spoke up, bringing his hand to his blade with a look that left no room for negotiation. "Or else I'll make you."
"You are forgetting yourself, Ser Barristan." Jon stated with indignation. "You address…"
"Jon, do as my mother asks. You are relieved." Rhaegar said to him in his melodic voice, with Jon Connington finally leaving, though Elia remained, as the King rose up from his seat and walked to the table with wine and cups. "Though I disapprove of his lack of tact, he is correct about your attire, Mother. People will ask and say uncomfortable things, if they see you like this." Rhaegar stated, as he poured some wine to himself.
"To Seven Hells with the people and my attire! You know why I am here, Rhaegar." Rhaella stated with fury in her voice. "What have you done to Maegor? Where is my grandson?!" She practically screamed at him, while Rhaegar simply drank a bit of it.
"That "thing" is no longer of any concern to you, Mother, or to me. He has faced the justice for his sins, and shall now pay for them." Rhaegar simply stated to Rhaella, before she walked up to him, and then threw the cup out of his hands, bringing his full attention to her. "You know what he has done, since you are here, and yet you ask where he is? How unbecoming of you, Mother."
"Answer my question! Where is Maegor?!" Rhaella practically roared at him, with Rhaegar refusing to answer.
"Maegor was sentenced to the Wall. His ship left the King's Landing a week ago, Your Grace. By now, he should've already reached the Narrow Sea." Elia spoke up, bringing the attention of Rhaella to herself.
"A week ago, but that means…" Rhaella gone pale at the realization that hit her, making her stumble back a few steps. "I received word four days ago… You intentionally did not inform me immediately, knowing I what would do?! You sentenced and sent him out on the very same day?!" Rhaella looked at her son with fury.
"Justice needed to be served swiftly, and still this was a mercy, compared to what he has done to my brother and your son." Rhaegar calmly replied, with Rhaella looking at him with an incredulous look. "Did you know that they found Viserys with over twenty stabs, with Maegor over his body, a dagger in his hands, continuously stabbing him, covered head to toe in blood of my brother? There was no need for trial- he is guilty of murder and kinslaying, and so I punished him for his sins."
"His sins? And what about Viserys' sins? What about him and how he tortured Maegor?! Or how about he beat him, nearly mutilated him several times, what about it?!" Rhaella shouted at her son, who didn't have a response for it. "Do not even try to defend him! Everyone knows that Viserys was a monster, yet the only one who truly suffered from his madness was Maegor, all because you allowed it! You are as guilty in this as Viserys!"
"It was not my hand that killed him, but Maegor's. He made his choice and now shall pay for it." Rhaegar replied.
"What choice?! To allow Viserys to murder him, or to finally defend himself?! There was no damn choice, and you bloody well know it!" Rhaella said with anger, as she breathed heavily, before composing herself a little. "You will stop that ship and bring Maegor back." Rhaella demanded of Rhaegar.
"It is done, Mother. Maegor will serve out his sentence on the Wall, where he shall atone for his…" At that moment, Rhaella has had enough of Rhaegar sanctimony, and walked to him and slapped him as hard as she could on his cheek, shocking him and Elia.
"The only one who needs to atone for any sins here is you, Rhaegar, and I have had enough of your damn hypocrisy! You will bring my grandson back to me, and we will leave you and this damned city and Keep for good." Rhaella stated to him with a ferocious look of determination. "You do not wish him here or anywhere close? I shall take him to Dragonstone, but you will bring him back, or else…" At that moment, the door into the solar opened up, and in stepped Ser Arthur Dayne.
"Your Graces, apologies for interruption, but a raven from Claw Isle arrived, bearing news." Ser Arthur said, as he gave the letter to Elia, who immediately opened it and read, her eyes suddenly widening at the contents.
"Lord Celtigar writes that the ship carrying recruits for Eastwatch was hit by a thunderstorm… Its remains washed ashore of his Isle, with… With no survivors." Elia said, as she looked at Queen Mother, who was shaking when she heard it. "Your Grace, I…" At that moment, the world blurred for Rhaella, and she fell upon the cold floor of the Red Keep, darkness taking hold of her, as the realization, that her beloved grandson Maegor was dead, set in.
Present.
She woke up only a week later, yet despite the dreamless sleep, she was unable to forget what she had heard before she fell unconscious, though she wished so. Once she was strong enough, Rhaella departed the Red Keep for good this time, despite the pleas and demands from her family, leaving for Dragonstone, and living here ever since then. She had refused to leave the island even when Rhaegar personally came to her four times, not seeing him even once, or when she had the summons to attend Aegon's wedding to Margeary Tyrell, nor when she received news of their firstborn son. To Rhaella, her family died when Maegor was shipped off by his callous father to the Wall, most definitely elated at the fact that he was rid of both Viserys and Maegor at the same time.
Though Viserys was her son and there was a time when she had loved him, that love died when Viserys lashed out at her, striking her with his hands and lashing out much like his father did. That day, she was only saved when Ser Barristan had intervened and knocked Viserys out before he could do much harm, but the damage was done, and since then, Viserys seized being Rhaella's son. The rest of her family was no better in other regards, and whenever she heard the news from her friends, allies and spies, she wondered if these two generations of Targaryens were afflicted all with madness or not.
Rhaegar courted mages, foreign sorceresses and priests that worshipped a fire god of all things, Rhaenys schemed with Martells and her cousins, the Sand Snakes, to see herself made Queen, while Aegon indulged himself in vanity and vane glories, as well as whores and decadence, unaware of manipulations of his wife. And while this was happening, Elia held little to no sway over her children and as for Daenerys… It appeared as if Rhaella's womb produced nothing but madness, for her daughter too thought herself a Dragon now, with how she had her husband, Renly Baratheon, burned alive in an "accident", though no smart person would ever believe what had happened to him was truly an accident. As for Visenya, she took to emulating her deceased mother, Lyanna Stark, who always served as an inspiration to her, yet the girl emulated not her mother, but the image that was created by her father, rumors, songs and hearsay. Wild, untamed, prideful and ferocious with a temper that was matched by her spitefulness towards anything and anyone who wasn't like her, Visenya embodied the worst impulses of her bloodline.
She hoped and prayed that Maegor turned out better than all of them, away from all of them in that distant and mysterious realm of Tamriel. With her thoughts focused on her family, Rhaella did not hear when Ser Barristan stepped inside and gently touched her, awakening her.
"Your Grace, my apologies, but there are three vessels on approach to the harbor." Barristan informed Rhaella, as per her wish. "They do not bear any known banners or flags, Your Grace, but the ships themselves, they appear to belong to those from Tamriel."
"A-are you certain, Ser Barristan?" Rhaella asked with her breath stilled, with Barristan nodding to her.
"I've had the new Master of Harbor confirm it for me. He said that those two vessels are called galleons, and serve as main ocean-faring ships in Tamriel." Ser Barristan said. "And he also said, that he knows the crest that they bear, crest of Sundrake. Your Grace, that name, he said…" Barristan wasn't able to finish, as Rhaella sprung into her feet and hurried to her chambers.
"Have a detail arranged for me, Ser Barristan! I shall greet them myself at the harbor!" She shouted, with Ser Barristan moving to complete the order of his Queen.
Several hours later, Rhaella and the best of her household guard stood at the harbor, dressed in the best of her gowns, befitting of a true Queen of Seven Kingdoms, one that showed status, regality and nobility, and not seduction and flesh, as seemed to be the custom in King's Landing now. Rhaella watched as the leading vessel of the three docked and once it did, from its decked marched out a column of ten men, armed with halberds and swords, and armored head to toe.
They descended down to the dock, and then formed into two lines, creating a corridor, with discipline and coordination that left quite an impression upon her and others. Their arms and armor were of impeccable quality, possibly only compared to that of Ser Barristan's own, for they were dressed in plate armor, with chainmail covering weak spots, with their swords and halberds were clearly superior in all forms to those that her own household guard employed. Such an escort of warriors was worthy of high lord, or even a King, and Rhaella could clearly see that there were many more of men like them on board, and it created many questions and anticipation started to become barely bearable.
Though her eyes lingered upon them for a moment, Rhaella's gaze averted from them the moment she heard that someone else was descending down the ladder, and when her eyes reached the one who it was, she froze in place. There marched not a boy, but a man, strong, tall and regal in stature, dressed in fine garments of blue and white, not flamboyant or screaming of luxurity, but elegant in simplicity and style. He stood taller than Rhaegar and was stronger in body, making her son look like a boy before a true man, and in the gaze of his blue eyes, she saw not melancholy or vagueness, but determination, will and focus.
Beside him, she saw a woman, dressed in regal and elegant robe and gown, that for a second reminded Rhaella of Joanna Lannister and her daughter Cersei, but she dashed away that thought, when she saw how her eyes were of different shade of green, almost blue, and her features were softer and warmer, and how she made both of women look like pale imitations before a masterpiece. And near them, she saw four children, two boys and two daughters, all of whom bore the resemblances to the two persons Rhaella saw just now, the realization that they were their children coming to her.
When they finally reached the dock and stopped before her, Rhaella looked the man in the eyes, finding in them not the boy she once knew, and when she finally spoke, her voice gave away her weakness and sense of desperation.
"Maegor… I-Is that truly y-you?" Rhaella asked, voice on the brink of breaking down into tears, pleading to all of the gods that this was true.
Instead of answering straight away, the man simply reached to underneath his shirt and pulled out of there a silver medallion in form of a circle, with Rhaella's eyes widening at the sight of it. It was then that he spoke.
"It was my fifth nameday, when you gifted me this medallion. When you gave it to me, you said: "No matter what others may say, you will always be both a wolf…" The man spoke with a soft voice, before Rhaella interrupted him.
"…and a dragon, and not even Kings or Gods may deny this right to you." Rhaella repeated what she said to her grandson, and tears finally came from her eyes. "M-Maegor, m-my boy…" She whispered, as she finally confirmed who it was, and without hesitation, moved to embrace her long lost grandson, with him returning her affection.
"It is me, Grandmother." He softly told her, as he hugged her close to himself. "I have returned."
Well, I hope that this intro chapter is engaging enough to captivate you and your attention for the things to come. Hi, my name is Ronin, or Alex, call me whichever suits you better, and this… Is actually something I haven't done yet- a Remake of sorts of my earlier story, Dragon Champion of Aedra and Nirn, which I was doing about a year ago, if memory serves me right. While it was good start, I found myself kinda bogged down and couldn't even get out of Westeros and into Skyrim, so, as I unfortunately have a tendency of doing, I abandoned it.
Nowadays, with my exams done and health improving (I've had a rough start of the year due to having Covid-19 and blood-pressure issues) I've decided to give a new shot to this idea, only with a bit of different execution. Instead of starting off from childhood, our Protagonist, Galahad Sundrake, aka Maegor Targaryen, aka Not-Jon-Snow, will start off as a grown man, already having de-facto completed all of Skyrim game's quests and more. Just to make it clear for those who may be confused from the start: he was called Maegor back in Westeros, but when he appeared in Tamriel, he changed his name to Galahad and was granted the surname of Sundrake. So when people speak of Maegor or Galahad, they refer to one person, the protagonist, so be aware of it.
Now, this story will feature many OCs and other things, like with Galahad's wife and children and others, and his story of how he appeared in Tamriel and what he was doing there for 14 years (he appeared there when he was 6 and is now 20) will be explained in future chapters. Now, in terms of his power… Galahad is OP, plain and simple, like the man has nearly all of his stats maxed out. He is not even human at this point, having become like Alduin in nature and power, in large part thanks to his divine nature and having defeated and consumed dozens of Dovah souls. And as for the Order of the Dragon and Brotherhood of Purifiers, that too will be covered in next chapters, for now I'll just say that even before Skyrim and during its events, Galahad was making a name for him and was as busy as the current Daedric Prince of Madness during Oblivion.
Now, this story, surprisingly even for myself, probably won't be a harem, which is something I haven't done in… 6 YEARS?! Man I didn't even realize it was that long! Anyway, I'll try to stay on a straight and narrow this time, but who knows...
Anyway, I hope you enjoy this chapter and give me a comment about it, a suggestion for future events or your opinion about it, since your support helps me get better.
And addressing a certain issue some of you may take due to me being a Russian… If you do not like the fact of it, you may leave this story and that's it. I do not want anything to do with politics and have them involved in here, and I think that what is happening right now is inhumane and atrocious and that is something I would never wish upon anyone. I neither support nor reject what is happening in Ukraine, I simply want it to be over, that is all, and I hope you will understand my position on the matter.
With that out of the way, hope you enjoyed the new story.
Next time: Grandson and Grandmother; Sundrake shines among Targaryens.
Until next time!
PS: Sorry, there seems to have been some mishap with when I posted it, hope it's fixed now!