Gargoyles: Knights & Dragons

A Gargoyles/Game of Thrones/A Song of Ice & Fire crossover.

…

Chapter 1

Essos. The Disputed Lands.

Flags fluttered in the wind followed by the sounds of cheers and the clattering cacophony of hooves hammering earth and splintering crashes of wood and metal. Aegon wheeled his horse, a charger black as sin, around as he took up another tourney lance offered to him. Hefting it in his arm, getting a feel for the weight of it, Aegon looked over at his opponent.

It had been a few weeks since Aegon and his teachers/family had joined up with the Golden Company. They had recently received word from the Spider that war had now engulfed Westeros following the death of the Usurper Robert Baratheon and the trial and execution of Lord Eddard Stark at the command, or more accurately the whim of the newly crowned Joffrey Baratheon. The Quiet Wolf's eldest son and heir Robb Stark had rallied and mustered his bannermen and levies and marched south from the North and had earned the epithet the Young Wolf after smashing a Lannister host led by the Kingslayer Ser Jaime Lannister of the Kingsguard in the Riverlands and captured the Lion in chains. There were other claimants to the Iron Throne such as the Usurper's younger brothers, Stannis, and Renly Baratheon.

Renly didn't last long despite him having a vast number of soldiers and support from the Stormlands and the Tyrells on his side, but he'd been killed all the same in his own tent. There had been many rumours of how Renly had been assassinated, the most common and popular belief was that his newly appointed Kingsguard, Lady Brienne of Tarth had murdered him for rejecting her advances. With Renly dead, the Tyrells had retreated back to Highgarden in the Reach and the Stormlanders had merged with Stannis' host, making him by far the largest and strongest contender for the Iron Throne.

With the chaos that had been happening in Westeros, Varys had sent word to Aegon's mentor and father-figure, Lord Jon Connington, to join the Golden Company and have Aegon learn the life of a soldier. A couple of months of drilling and a few skirmishes later, Aegon had been learning what it meant to be a soldier. It was then Captain-General Myles 'Blackheart' Toyne had called for a squire's tourney, for a variety of reasons; one was to reveal Aegon to the Golden Company captains, the second being to give the squires in the Golden Company a chance to show off their skills and give them a chance to earn their spurs.

After being introduced to the Golden Company, Aegon had then taken part in the Tourney. He'd faced off against other squires, riding hard and sure, knocking a few off their horses. Some his lance broke off their shields earning him a point. His opponents had given as good as they got against him, and a few had come close to knocking him off his horse. But whether it was through luck or skill (Aegon liked to think it was skill), Aegon had prevailed and was now facing off the next squire, a pimply dark-skinned Dornish boy that rode a horse that was as foul tempered as him.

Aegon's charger snorted and pawed the ground with one hoof. It seemed like to charge before the herald could even sound his trumpet, and in all honesty, Aegon couldn't blame his steed for its eagerness. He'd have liked to charge out and meet his foe too instead of waiting. After a torturously long moment that felt like an hour rather than a minute, the herald blew his horn and Aegon hardly needed to kick his horse into a gallop for it did so as the horn was called. Setting his eyes firmly on his opponent, Aegon couched his lance, aiming for the chest. His opponent seemed to be aiming his lance at his head. As the lance neared Aegon's head, he twisted his head to the side, narrowly avoiding the round blunted tip of the lance and lunged forward with his own lance. The Dornish boy gave a strangled cry and fell off his horse as Aegon's lance smashed and shattered against his chest, knocking him backwards through the force and inertia.

The crowd of assembled knights, lords, ladies, magisters, and the like cheered wildly as Aegon raised his now shattered lance in triumph while a maester and a team of stretcher bearers carried the dazed and winded squire off the field to be treated.

The next two squires made their passes at each other, giving Aegon a chance to rest his charger. Ser Rolly Duckfield helped Aegon off his horse and helped him pull of his helmet. "You're doing well, lad. I've taught you well it seems," the shaggy-haired knight proclaimed proudly as he offered Aegon a skin of water.

"I like to think so, ser," Aegon replied with a smile, but then his smile faltered as he said, "My pardon, but for a moment when I'm tilting against the other squires, it almost feels like they're letting me win."

"How do you mean, my prince?" Rolly asked.

"I don't really know," Aegon replied. "It feels as though when I come nearer to them, their aim isn't quite as sure or they slow down as they ride closer," he said uncertainly.

"Perhaps you're seeing things," Rolly said easily. "I mean, you were revealed to everyone as the lost son of Prince Rhaegar Targaryen," he added. "So, mayhap the other squires don't intend to harm you too much?" he offered.

"I'd rather they did intend to, Ser," Aegon said sternly. "How else will I win the respect of the Golden Company captains if the other squires go easy on me?"

"As you say, my prince," Rolly said with a nod of his head. "Anyway, best get your helmet back on and onto your horse. You're up against the last squire," he advised.

"Good," Aegon said with a nod of his head as he put his helm back on, fastening it before climbing back onto his charger. Flicking the reins, Aegon had his horse trot out and he picked up a tourney lance. He looked over at his opponent and spotted the three black castles on a field of orange on his shield. House Peake, Aegon thought vaguely, a house that had lost two of its castles in their numerous rebellions. Ages before during the Dance of Dragons, the patriarch of House Peake had tried to have his daughter wed to the then King Aegon III but had failed spectacularly to do so. A wry smirk passed over Aegon's lips under his helm as he thought of denying a house of rebels another victory.

Readying himself, Aegon waited for the sound of the horn and quickly enough, the trumpeting sound of the horn blew. With a kick, Aegon's steed charged into a gallop same as the Peake's did. Aegon and his opponent made numerous passes at each, breaking their lances off each other's shields. One pass, Aegon was nearly knocked off his horse, but he quickly caught himself and pulled himself upright in the saddle and grabbed another lance and charged again. Again, his lance broke off his opponent's shield, but the same was for the Peake squire.

Soon after, Lord Jon called it a to halt and bade them to present themselves and asked for Blackheart to make the final judgement. Aegon tried not to let his tiredness show as the Captain-General stared at him and Peake in a calculating manner, assessing them with hard eyes before speaking loudly for all who were present to hear his words.

"Both of these young men performed admirably. They've both shown great skill at lances and horsemanship. A true show of chivalry," he said slowly before adding, "But from what I'd seen with my own eyes, it was Prince Aegon who rode and couched his lance more skilfully throughout this tourney. Let it be known that the prince has won!"

The crowd cheered and clapped wildly. Aegon raised his helmet high and gave a beaming smile, elated that he'd won his first tourney. The Peake boy scowled and left the field, muttering curses under his breath.

"Prince Aegon. Approach, please," Lord Jon said, his face stern but proud. Aegon dismounted his horse and stood before his mentor. "Kneel." Aegon did so as Lord Jon drew his sword and spoke, "Aegon Targaryen, do you swear before the eyes of the gods and men to defend those who cannot defend themselves, to protect all women and children, to obey your captains, to fight bravely when needed and do other such tasks, no matter how hard or humble or dangerous they may be?"

Aegon looked up at Lord Jon and nodded his head. "I do, my lord," he said bravely.

Lord Jon then rested the tip of his sword on Aegon's right shoulder before moving it to his left and spoke the words. "In the name of the Warrior, I charge you to be brave. In the name of the Father, I charge you to be just. In the name of the Mother, I charge you to protect the young and innocent. In the name of the Maiden, I charge you to protect all women. In the name of the Smith, I charge you to be diligent. In the name of the Crone, I charge you to be wise and serve as a guiding force for all those who come after you. Arise, Ser Aegon Targaryen!"

Aegon rose to his feet and if he had thought the cheering before was loud, this was colossal. "A knight, a knight!" one woman cried out. One man shouted at the top of his lungs, "Ser Aegon Targaryen! The Conqueror Reborn!"

Myles Toyne stepped down from his seat as servants rushed forward, carrying a chest of cedar wood and polished copper. Myles bowed his head as the chest was opened.

"Blackfyre!" Aegon breathed out as he gazed upon what lay within. The fabled sword of Aegon the Conqueror and used by many Targaryen Kings until it was given away. The sword of kings and pretenders. It was beautiful; the blade was all Valyrian steel, dark and smoky, almost black in colour with ripples all along from there metal had been folded a thousand times over. A gleaming red faceted ruby was set in the pommel, beautifully and elegantly cut into a diamond shape while the hilt was fashioned out of smooth and polished dragonglass and the ends of the quillons were wrought into roaring dragon heads of cold black iron.

'The sword that was lost has now returned to its rightful owners' Aegon thought to himself. He smiled bowing his head in thanks before taking up the sword and was given an ebon wood and leather sheath for it and tied to it to his belt.

Lord Jon then spoke to Aegon in a whisper. "Well done, my prince." Although the exiled Lord of Griffin's Roost face was stern, his pale blue eyes shone with pride and joy.

"Thank you, Lord Jon. I won't let you down," Aegon whispered to him before turning to the crowd and raised his gauntleted hand high and everyone cheered.

Soon, a call for refreshments was announced and Jon said to Aegon, "You'd best get out of that armour for the feast now, boy. I'll see you there." Aegon nodded at this and headed into the camp where his tent would be, intent of taking off his armour and changing into something more suitable for the feast. As he neared his tent, Aegon spied dark cloud growing on the horizon.

"A storm? That's unfortunate," he muttered to himself as he entered his tent where he began to take off his armour and set it aside in a neat pile.

…

Some servants had drawn Aegon a bath, something he was grateful for. He had worked up quite a bit of sweat and dust in the tourney, so a hot bath was certainly a welcome sight. After spending almost an hour in the large wooden tub, scrubbing his skin until it was pink and raw, Aegon climbed out of the bath, dried himself off before dressing himself.

Dressing himself in black trousers, a lambswool shirt and leather jerkin and fine but plain leather boots, Aegon looked at himself in the looking glass. His reflection stared back at him with a small smile present on its lips.

"I'm a knight," Aegon murmured to himself before giving a chuckle. "Still can't believe it," he added before he looked at his sword, Blackfyre, propped up against the table. His smile widening, Aegon tied the sword onto his belt and looked at himself once again in the looking glass.

"Did the Conqueror ever feel this way?" Aegon asked himself. And then there came a rumble of thunder and wind began to blow. The tent flaps began to flap and ripple as wind blew into the tent.

"A storm? At this hour?" Aegon asked himself with a sigh of frustration as he prepared to exit his tent. Then there came a fizzing, hissing crackling sound and a strange scent hit Aegon's nose making it wrinkle as he tried to identify what the smell was. Then a burst of light filled the tent, blinding Aegon forcing him to cover his eyes with his hands and a shockwave knocked him to the ground. Fumbling for his sword, Aegon drew it out and uncovered his eyes to see a bizarre sight before him.

Two old men stood before him. Both looked similar to each in face, yet their appearances were different. One sported a long white beard that almost reached his legs and he wore a simple grey robe with a black cloak around his shoulders. His twin had a much shorter cut beard of white and wore a more ornate elaborate robes combined with some kind of armour with a gleaming sapphire jewel set in the forehead of his cowl.

"Who… Who are you two?" Aegon asked in confusion.

The ornately robed man turned to his twin and said to him, "Here is another of the ones we need. See the potential in him?"

The mundane of the twins scoffed and replied, "I see nought but a young stripling! How could he help us gain our revenge?"

"Ah, he may be a stripling now, but once we send on his way, he will become a great warrior!" the richly dressed twin said with a toothy grin.

"Who are you both? How did you get in my tent?" Aegon asked feeling very confused by these two old men.

"Now, to send him on his way!" said the richer twin who raised a hand and before Aegon could even draw his sword, he was enveloped in a fiery white light and his vision went white as he was ripped away.

It was a whirling vortex as Aegon felt himself falling through what he could liken to a maelstrom of images of people and places he did not recognise before he landed in a darkened alleyway on his back.

…

Groaning in discomfort and pain, Aegon slowly sat up, rubbing his now sore back. Then the stench of who knows what assailed his sense of smell and he had to fight the urge to vomit. Slowly rising to his feet, Aegon looked at his surroundings.

Everything looked wholly unfamiliar to the newly made knight. The architecture was different and metal pipes lined the walls and balconies wrought of metal hung over Aegon's head. It was nighttime if the way the skies were dark and cloudy were any indication and there was a cacophony of noises coming from down the end of the alleyway where bright yellow lights shone and silhouettes of figures moved back and forth.

Deciding to leave the alleyway and see if there was someone who could help him find a way back home, impossible as it might've seemed, Aegon walked down the narrow alley and found himself staring at what he could only have dreamed of.

Tall massive blocky buildings and towers soared towards the heavens, made of carved stone or glass so smooth that it would make the lens makers of Myr weep in envy. Metal carriages with blacks raced up and down the smooth roads with no horse or oxen to pull them. People dressed in clothes that looked finer than anything Aegon had seen walked along smooth paved pathways running along the roads. Aegon gaped like a trout at what he was seeing and he dumbly walked along the paved pathways, his gaze twisting and turning as he took in this wonderous sight.

Walking past an alleyway, Aegon spied a trio of rough looking men wearing less fine attire. Averting his gaze so as not to draw attention, Aegon hurried on his way, but it seemed futile as the rough looking trio of men lurked behind him, chuckling to themselves. Putting a hand to his sword, Aegon readied himself for a pre-emptive attack as one of the ruffians spoke.

"Lookie-lookie, boys. We got a knight in shining armour here," the man said with a wicked sneering grin on his craggy face. "Long way from Camelot, ain't ya?" he taunted.

"I have no quarrel with you, ser," Aegon responded evenly. "I simply wish to be on my way home," he said.

"Ooh, have no quarrel with us, huh?" one of the thugs asked mockingly. "Talk fancy, don'tcha? Think you're better than us, huh?" he accused.

"I don't think. I know," Aegon corrected proudly.

"Well, let's see how much better you are once we cut you up a little," the third of the thugs said as he pulled out a knife from his waist and the other two men pulled out similar weapons.

Backing away slightly, Aegon drew his sword, the spell-forged steel gleaming in lights, drinking it in.

The first of the thugs seemed nervous at the sight of Blackfyre and asked his compatriots, "That real? Sure looks it."

"Be cool, man! Probably just plastic!" the second of the thugs replied in an attempt to keep morale up.

"Come and find out if you dare!" Aegon said to the ruffians.

"There's three of us and only one of youse!" the third retorted waving his knife around. "We gotcha outnumbered, In-Shining-Armour!"

"Are you gonna stand there talking all night, or are we going to fight?" Aegon replied as he his sword in both hands, ready for the conflict about to ensue.

With a growl, the second of the padfoots launched himself at the young knight who lightly swung Blackfyre at the man's cheek and was rewarded with a yelp of pain and surprise as the supremely sharp black cut his cheek near to the bone and blood spurted out.

Stumbling backwards, the padfoot clutched his wounded bleeding cheek looking at Aegon in surprise and alarm. "It's real?" the man murmured fearfully.

"Aye, and it'll do more than give you a cut cheek!" Aegon warned.

"Blow this! I'm outta here!" the wounded thug said as he threw down his knife and ran out of the alleyway.

"Hey! Where ya going?! Coward!" third thug shouted before looking at Aegon angrily, yet the anger was tempered with caution. The first thug was backing away slowly, sweat pouring down his bow as he realised that he and his compatriots had bitten off more than they could chew.

"If I were you, I'd leave whilst you still could," Aegon told the two thugs. "Unless of course you want to find just how deeply a Valyrian blade can cut?" he asked lightly.

The two thugs looked at each other in alarm when suddenly a voice cut in.

"Stop right there! NYPD! Put your hands up!" the voice belonged to a woman and Aegon turned around to see an older yet still young and attractive looking woman wearing a red leather jacket and blue pants, holding some strange L-shaped object in one hand and flashing some kind of golden trinket in her other hand.

"Who are you?" Aegon asked as he regarded the new arrival. Her hair was dark as a Notherner's and her skin tone was hard to match up as it was a mix between dark and nut brown. Was she perhaps Dornish, Aegon wondered.

"Drop your weapons! And hands on your head! I'm not gonna ask again!" the woman warned them.

Deciding to play nice, Aegon slowly placed his sword on the ground in front of him and raised his hands in the air as a show of surrender.

…

Half an hour later, Aegon sat in a small cell by himself. After having his hands clapped in irons, Aegon was then put in one of those strange metal horseless carriages where he was taken to what was called a Police Station where he was quickly put into a cell by himself, presumably to await trial.

"Well, this is going well," Aegon muttered to himself as he wondered just what kind of world he had landed in and how he was going to get back home. Lord Jon must've learnt of his sudden disappearance and was beginning to search for him.

As he rest on the small hard little bed that hung of the wall, Aegon waited for whatever was to come next.

Then the door clicked as the locks apparently were loosened and the door swung open to reveal the woman who had arrested him alongside a tall older man with near snow white hair and beard, wearing a tweed jacket, brown pants and leather shoes.

"Mr Connington, your uncle has paid your bail and explained the situation. You're free to go," the woman said to Aegon.

"Mr Connington? Uncle?" Aegon parroted those words in confusion.

The woman looked at the 'uncle' who smiled warmly and said to her, "Apologies. My nephew sometimes forgets to take his medicine and forgets himself at times." He then gave a friendly grin at Aegon who raised an eyebrow at him questioningly.

The woman looked at Aegon and the other man before shaking her head and leaving the room.

"Who are you, ser?" Aegon asked the man who paid for whatever this 'bail' was.

"Not here. I'll explain once we're in a safe location," the man replied in a much more serious tone of voice.

"I don't understand," Aegon then said. "I've never met you before," he added.

"That would be true. This is the first time you have met me, but it's not my first time meeting you," the other man replied mysteriously.

"Not the first time? What are you babbling about?" Aegon asked.

"I can't explain here. Walls have ears," the man said to him. "If you want answers as to where you are, then you could do worse to stay here and not find out where you are," he explained.

Aegon looked at the small cell and reluctantly nodded before looking at his 'uncle' and said to him, "Very well. I expect answers though."

"And you'll get them," the stranger replied. "C'mon. Time's a-wasting," he said to Aegon.

"What about my sword?" Aegon asked in worry.

"Already taken care of," his saviour replied assuringly. "Let's go!" he said sternly as he left the room without waiting for Aegon who quickly followed him out of the cell, through some corridors and out into the open where a long back metal carriage awaited them.

"Get in," the stranger told Aegon opening a door. Aegon climbed in and sat down on one of the soft leather seats. The other man climbed in after him and pressed a button on one of the arm rests. With a growling hum, Aegon felt the carriage began to move and drive way from the police station.

"Who are you, ser? Why do you claim to be my uncle? I only have one uncle that I know of and he was killed most recently," Aegon said.

"A simple cover identity for you," the stranger explained. "Much like your cover back in your own world as the son of Old Griff AKA Lord Jon Connington," he then said.

Aegon looked at the man in surprise. "You know I am from another world and you know of my foster father?" he asked.

"I know that you are from another world, Mr Targaryen and I know of your foster father," the stranger replied and he then raised a hand to stop the questions forming on Aegon's lips. "I cannot say more until we're at a safehouse. So just bear with me," he said.

"May I at least know your name?" Aegon asked crossly.

The old man gave a grin and said, "I've gone by many names over the course of my life, but there is one name I am most commonly called by those who know me."

"And that is?"

"They call me MacBeth."

TO BE CONTINUED…

A/N: There! First chapter of this is done and dusted! This was something I'd been planning for a while and was something of a brainchild between me and Jebest4781; basically Aegon VI/Young Griff lands in the Gargoyles universe. There were two ways I could've done this; the first was the chapter you see here and the second was the crew of the Shy Maid end up in Camelot via the Mists of Avalon, so depending how this chapter goes, we may see a rewrite of this first chapter using the second route.

Anywho, timeline wise, this first chapter is set approximately a year or two before the start of season one of Gargoyles, enough time for Aegon to acclimate to his new surroundings and establish his cover identity before beginning his work with MacBeth and perhaps even meet the likes of Xanatos or Fox and the Pack.

In other news, I'm working on an Elder Scrolls/DC Comics crossover and I'm trying to decide what the setting should be and I've set up a poll with a list of options and so far, DC Ame-Comi girls is the most popular, followed by a DC/Marvel Infinity Crisis NSFW crossover. So feel free to cast your vote on the poll if you haven't already.

And apart from that, I haven't got too much more to say, so I'll leave this here and catch you all next time.

Be kind to one another,

Angry lil' elf.