The winds howled, rattling the window of the ship. Waves of water rocked against the boat, and quick flashes of blue could be seen in the corner of my vision. I stared into the mirror across from me, still in disbelief.
I noticed the eyepatch first. My left eye was covered with an eyepatch, strikingly similar to what a pirate would wear. My remaining eye was a bright blue, offering peace and security if you stared within. Then, my lips.
They were an icy blue, seemingly radiating cold. Touching it brought little to no feeling, the nerves that were once there seemingly destroyed. I held my hand to my cheek, my eye greedily devouring my new appearance. I was handsome, in that there was no doubt. I had a roughish appearance, the kind that made many women in fairytales swoon. Long and wild black hair, almost as dark as the midnight sky.
A wild yet somehow alluring beard and pearly white teeth, a rarity for someone during the medieval period. I was covered in some sort of exotic armour, but even then I could see the muscular frame that was resting under the armour. Subconsciously, my hand began to reach towards the eyepatch, curious as to what sight awaited beneath it.
A hot flash of pain erupted in my head, a loud grunt escaping from my lips. My vision blurred, managing to clumsily stumble away from the mirror, taking a seat on the chair beside it. My head throbbed with pain, an influx of memories invading my brain. Memories of a life that was not mine. Sins of which I had not committed.
I was... I was Euron Greyjoy, supposed bringer of the Apocalypse.
I sighed, running a shaky hand through my silky hair. I was in the Game Of Thrones universe. Not only that, I was reborn as a bloodthirsty killer with dreams of becoming a god. A character who made Ramsay Bolton look like a common playground bully.
Fuck.
I was not... I wasn't the greatest saint in my past life, I will admit. Lying came as easy as breathing, and to some people, I could be considered a master of manipulation.
But was I evil? No. I wouldn't consider myself as such. Many others had committed far worse crimes than myself. I lead a common and mostly boring life. Nothing that would warrant me being placed into this universe. Without the right tools, this world was a death sentence. Between all the scheming and the plotting, there were various threats that threatened the world. The White Walkers, Daenerys The Mad Queen and the various other players in the game.
I searched my new memories, looking for any indication that would tell me how far from the main timeline I was. Robert... Robert was not yet dead. So The War Of The Five Kings had not taken place. The threat of the White Walkers was still years away.
Nevertheless, they would still come. My memory during the last moments of my previous life were foggy, whether I died naturally or otherwise I wasn't sure. But I did remember the feeling of inescapable emptiness that came afterwards. Cold hands reaching up towards me, trying to drag me down into the depths.
I won't experience that again, no matter what.
My knowledge of Game Of Thrones was limited to the TV show, some YouTube theories and various fan stories. I knew some details from the books, and how drastically different some events had occurred. But that was all. My knowledge could be useful, but I couldn't rely on it too much.
The storm outside had started to grow quiet, the winds and rain starting to slow in their ferocity. The once violent splatter of rain hand turned into a gentle tapping against the window.
Euron Greyjoy. He was one character I was fascinated with. At the least, the book version. Allegedly, he was capable of magic. Skinchanging and Greenseeing. He had claimed to visit Asshai and had imprisoned in his crew several powerful mages. He was shrouded in mystery and intrigue. The incarnation of evil. Whether that was all true or not? Well, I suppose I could find out for myself.
Euron rode aboard the ship The Silence. Raiding and pillaging his way across the world, from Westeros to Yi-Ti. The nickname of his ship was well-named too. His crew, my crew I suppose, were all mutes. Their tounges ripped out so that they could no longer speak. No man was spared, not even Euron's own bastard son's aboard the ship.
Euron's memories were faint, almost dreamlike. Some things were as clear as day, like the day he was exiled. Others were more foggy, harder to discern. Euron had indeed travelled the world and visited it's wonders. Braavos, Asshai, the doomed Island of Valyria. He had visited them all. And yet, my memories of them were faint. Some useless, even.
I had always wanted to explore the world, in my previous life. But work and poverty crushed that dream ruthlessly. But in this world? Perhaps I could revive that dream?
I brought a hand to my chin, idly stroking my beard. If I were to survive the coming wars, I would need to be strong. Sure, I could just sit on the sidelines and let the world turn as it should, but is that really my purpose here? Some being, some form of higher life had placed me here for a reason. Besides, the universe was generally shitty to be born into, but it used to be one of my favorites. To sit idle would be a waste to the chance given to me.
Sitting around and waiting for something to happen was never my style. I always liked to push forward, no matter the circumstance, and that wouldn't change here. I needed to prepare, to grab every advantage I could for the coming threats. My own survival was paramount of course, but there was a reason I had been placed here. There had to be be.
In my previous life, whenever I felt the last dregs of motivation and purpose leave me, I wrote a list. A list of objectives and what their end result would bring. Go to the gym? Muscles that allowed me to grow stronger. Study? The chance to earn more income and work less.
All my goals were often selfish in nature, and if it didn't benefit me? Well, I probably wouldn't bother completing it. Like I said, I'm not a particularly good person.
But I need a list. Something with high quality goals but still achievable. I nodded to myself, grabbing some parchment and quill from the cabinet of the mirror, idly noting the golden quality of the quill.
Euron had already amassed quite a bit of wealth in his time as a pirate, easily able to gather a fortune if sold to the right bidders. Golden trinkets, supposed magical items and such. Wealth shouldn't be a problem, at least not yet.
- Step One - Learn Magic
Magic in its current state was something not often seen, at least in Westeros. Many rule it off as fairytales, and if someone were to use it, they would probably be cast off as evil. But I knew better. Bran was able to skinchange and greenseer. Two completely broken abilities. Skinchanging allowed someone to invade the mind of an animal and control it, or at the least see through its eyes.
In theory, it could also work on humans. But it was seen as a great taboo. Not that I really care.
Greenseeing. This I was a little more unsure of. But from what I remember, it allowed you to glimpse into the past, present and possibly the future. Bran was able to see his father, Ned Stark, in the past and learn the truth about Jon's true parentage. Alas, nothing was done in the show about it. A forgotten point. But it shows the power of Greenseeing. Something I was eager to learn.
Step Two - Master the Way of The Sword
The memories were dancing around in my head. But I would need to rebuild the muscle memory and train my reflexes. Knowing how to fight was one thing, but mastering it would allow me to gain a newfound respect from others. Arthur Dayne, Sword Of The Morning, widely regarded as the best swordsman in the world.
Barristan Selmy, Kingsguard of Aerys and Robert. Two respected swordsman who could win any duel presented to them. Mastering the sword would allow me the chance to remove any rivals legally, without much question or protest. It was incredibly important.
Step Three - Solidfy a Power Base
I needed a staging grounds, and for that the Iron Islands was my best bet. Once Balon died, I would be able to return to the Islands and put forth my claim in the Kingsmoot, like the original Euron did. It would gain me a small army, nothing great but it was a start.
Step four?
A small smile crept across my face as the memory entered my mind. Euron was in possession of probably the most valuable thing in this world. I sat up from my golden chair, noting the fact it was encrusted with jewels which would probably allow a simple man to live out the rest of his life in luxury. I moved to the back of the ship cabin, my eyes landing on my prize.
I fished the key from my pocket, inserting it into the keyhole. It slid in perfectly, a satisfying click emanating from inside the lock. The chest slowly creaked up, revealing its contents. My breath hitched as my eyes landed on the object, no doubt a glint of greed being visible in my eyes.
Euron, in the books at least, was a man of mystery and intrigue. He was in possession of many magical objects which were priceless. But none such as this. Euron was in possession of a dragon egg. My eyes greedily devoured its appearance, the shell onyx black, seemingly pulling the light from the room and consuming it.
If my memory was correct, Euron threw the egg overboard in frustration after several failed attempts to hatch the eggs. I would not be so foolish. Hatching the dragon, however. Well, that would be difficult. But I had my knowledge which would help me. And knowledge, or at least theories, of how Daenerys hatched her dragons.
I needed the blood of a King, or someone related to one. Blood magic and sacrifice was a heavy theme in the magic of Game Of Thrones. Melisandre is the first person that comes to mind. She used the blood of kings to kill three apparent usurpers. Robb Stark, Joffrey Baratheon and Balon Greyjoy, if I remember correctly. And it worked.
Robb was killed at the Red Wedding, Balon died to a 'storm' and Joffrey died from poison. All because Melisandre used the blood of a bastard, Gendry. This was only speculation, but it was how Daenerys hatched her three dragons.
She killed Khal Drogo, someone who could be considered a king. Her baby also died, and she burned the witch alive at the stake. She then went into the fire and returned with three hatched eggs. Three blood sacrifices. The recipe to hatch the stone eggs had been hidden in the Targaryen House Word's for centuries.
"Fire and Blood."
That was only a theory, however. To my knowledge it was never confirmed on what actually hatched the dragons. And then there was the fact I was not a Targaryen. Bonding with dragons was something that was exclusive to those of Old Valyrian blood. So even if I hatched it, would the bonding actually work?
My remaining eye moved to the corner of the room, noting the object that lay there. A giant golden horn.
Dragonbinder. Whether it would actually work or not? I wasn't sure. Something for the future, I suppose.
I moved back to the mirror, boring into my own eye. This world was one of chaos and despair. Wars were common. Peasants died in the streets and people would step over them, lest they join them. A world where the strong thrived and weak died. If I wanted to survive, if I wanted to come out on top, I needed to be strong too.
I nodded to myself, moving to the door of the cabin. We were currently sailing around the Narrow Sea, searching for ships to raid. But I had a new goal in mind. My memories of the crew were faint and dreamlike. It was time I met them personally.
The waves crashed again The Silence, a light rain tapping against the deck of the ship. The storm had long parted and the sky was beginning to form a clear blue. The Silence was manned by around 43 crew members, all of them mutes. While I couldn't talk to them, they would follow my instructions almost devoutly. Which is what I needed. The beginnings of a plan, a proper plan, had began to form while I surveyed the deck. Robert hadn't died, not yet. And from my memories, Jon Arryn was still alive. The War Of the Five Kings had not yet taken place.
I had time to prepare. I had thought of several options, while I surveyed my ship.
Plan number one - Sail to Essos, to Daenerys Targareyn. She was inexperienced, easy to manipulate, at this stage at least. Save her and her brother from exile. I could offer her the Iron Islands as a gift. And snatch her dragon's from under her. It was a risky plan, full of variables that could go wrong, but doable.
The second plan, though this one would be done at some point irregardless. Immediately sail to the Iron Islands, kill Balon like Euron would, and claim the salt throne. This too was risky however. With enough practice, I was sure I could become as charming as the original Euron. However, those who supported Balon had not lived through a second failure of a rebellion. One failed rebellion might be accepted, but two? I assume that was why most Balon's supporters had turned to Euron once he'd died.
The third plan, though easily the least risky. Focus on my training, continue pillaging the known world. Gather wealth for the war to come. Raid ships across the various seas. Explore the world of Ice and Fire. Gather allies and knowledge. The plan I was going to go with. The first two plans could be achieved at a later date, and easier. I was still unfamiliar with this world and rushing in too quickly would lead to my death. Easing myself in, training and learning, it was the plan that made the most sense.
The waves were steady, and the winds were quiet. I stood at the helm of the ship, an eerie silence apparent. Despite their muteness, the crew worked diligently and effectively. It was almost as if they communicated telepathically. I cleared my throat, preparing to speak.
"My crew. My family. A dream came upon my through the night, a dream of hope and terror. I have a new goal in mind, a new destination. Sail to Braavos. As fast as the winds will carry us."
Euron spoke to his crew a bit more violently, a few looks of surprise on the crew's face. While I was not as skillful as Euron, my knowledge made up for it in other areas. My reasons for visiting Braavos were not particularly interesting. Braavos held one of the nine wonders, The Titan Of Braavos, which I would like to see. But I also wanted to see, with my own eyes, the people of this world.
Besides, the ships heading to Braavos were bound to be filled with riches and plunder, which I needed. While it was true I held a small fortune already, it wasn't enough. I needed to be rich enough to rival the Lannister's and Tyrell's. An ambitious goal, I realised. But it was possible. The cities of Essos were far richer than Westeros as a whole, and in Braavos resided the Iron Bank. Angering the Iron Bank was a risk, true. But the rewards outweighed that.
I closed my eyes, a small smile appearing on my lips. I was a player in the game now. And I held an advantage no other did. Knowledge. The knowledge that would allow me to not only survive, but thrive and conquer.
The wind picked up, blowing my hair slightly. Whoever, or whatever had placed me here, they placed me here for a reason. Even now, their eyes were likely on me. Well, I would entertain them. Thoroughly.
Westeros, Essos, Yi-Ti and the lands beyond Asshai. Everywhere. They would all be mine, one day. Greedy, perhaps. Some might say impossible. I didn't care. I knew what I wanted, and I vowed I would get it.
Like the last 60 percent of this chapter was wrote while I'm drunk so if I apologize if it doesn't make sense or just in general shitty I'll fix it when I wake up probably.