The Song of Sun and Flame – Part 1 of the Caidan Chronicles
AN:
I have updated the first few chapters from the previous ones posted, general ideas the same just added in more detail, I'll try not to keep changing things too much but I just felt some bits needed more to it.
So, this story is part of a series of stories that occur in the same 'multiverse'. It is part of a paracosm which I have had since I was a kid. It does get a bit wild considering that I am a huge sci-fi, fantasy and musical nerd so yea lots of craziness going on but that's what I like about it.
A few disclaimers:
1. This is a multi-crossover story with basically any fantasy/sci-fi media you can think of. For now, I'll stick to HotD but I will be doing more stories like these in other worlds as well so stay tuned cause honey, you're in for a wild ride! Since this is multi-universal, I also tend to make a lot of references to other media whether its things I say or what I do so look out for that and see if you can spot them all. Obviously all rights go to their original creators, HBO, Warner Bros, Lucasfilm etc.
2. I wrote this story for myself to help get my paracosm out onto paper. I would love feedback on how I could improve my storytelling as this is my first real fic but ultimately, I'll tell the kind of story I want, some bits are funny and silly, maybe a bit of singing thrown in for flavour and ya know I guess that's what I like about fic writing, it can be.
3. That being said, though weird and whacky I still do like to stick to realism at times and how I think the characters would react as we see them in their worlds. This fic in particular, is going to be a bit of a slow burn because Aemond is a stubborn ass and I love a good fleshed out character.
4. TW for gore/violence, sexual assault, talk around chronic disease and spice – any of those not ok then move on people!
Since music is also a big part of what gives my headcannon atmosphere, I'll also be linking songs into scenes periodically so that you can get the sort of vibe we're going for or if there is a song playing in the story, it will also be linked. I would highly recommend putting on the song as you are reading the scene to give it more context/atmosphere.
With all that being said, I do hope you enjoy this complete brain dump based on my current HotD obsession. I'm sure you're here for the same reason, darling.
Lots of Love,
Shattered Light x
Chapter 1: Stone
SMACK!
My collision with what appeared to be a hard, stone floor was enough that I was seeing stars. I felt the weight of other bodies pressed up against me, some cursing, others trying to nurse bruises from their fall. My vision was blurred, Shit, my head hurts. I tried to compose myself, trying to refocus on my surroundings. I heard another curse, Mark. My friend was beside me, his glasses askew and the sleeves of his frilly, white shirt were torn, a nasty graze protruding through the fabric.
"Ow! Chloe! Would you get off? That's my foot!" Malina, I could see her struggling to pull her twisted ankle out from under Chloe's bum while Chloe herself was trying to throw off Husnan, no easy feat given he was half a foot taller than her. Josh, being on the edge of the pack had already managed to scramble free, their scruffy, brown and purple hair sticking up more awkwardly than usual and was now trying to help the others. I hauled myself up while clutching at the growing bulge on the back of my head. Gods, how far had we fallen? I felt the slick, stickiness of the blood pooling onto my curls, the liquid clumping each strand into a chaotic mass of scarlet, brunette and gold.
We were in the university not moments ago, sitting and enjoying our lunch as we normally do together. Laughing about whether our psycho of a professor was actually going to fail us all out of spite or just curse us until his ears went purple. It was perfect, Husnan was talking about going home to see his family over the break. He is North African and doesn't see home much, so we were very excited for him. Malina on the other hand was raving loudly about the upcoming practical, freaking out as she normally does, the whole 'Oh I am worried I've not done enough. What if they bring up the mechanism of rifampicin? I'm doomed'. Gods, she was cynical even for a pharmacist. But still it was perfect.
Until it wasn't.
Until the world swallowed us whole and we were thrown into the chaos. Tossed and turned and falling far, far and forever. Into the void down, down until…
SMACK!
As I finally looked up at the hall surrounding us, I could have sworn I heard my heart shudder. It can't be…
Draped elegantly over the wall, staring down at our party with menacing authority was a great banner of black and red. All three of the delicately embossed dragon heads appeared as if they were staring with cruel intent. Preparing to strike at any moment. My sight caught onto where we had been thrown, seeing the grand staircase beneath us, twice the width of the one in the old college building back home. Three times the height. The dragon statues were abundant and though menacing, were the picture of nobility and power. There's no way. This is not possible. But I had to know. Before I could stop myself, my body willed me to the nearest window to look out onto the great city below. I stared at the muck and grime and filth and knew now that I had no idea what was truly possible.
Westeros. We had landed smack bang in the middle of Westeros. I was looking out onto King's Landing. Seeing the Scept of Baelor, Blackwater Bay and the Dragon Pit, each iconic landmark appearing even more impressive in reality than it ever did in a book. And we had the shittiest luck and landed in possibly the most dangerous location in all the Seven Kingdoms.
The Red Keep.
As I frantically turned back to my friends, about to aid the crumpled mess that was our arrival, I felt a cold pain latch itself onto my neck.
I froze on the spot.
Malina, who had finally freed her ankle, covered her mouth in a terrified gasp. My stone body forced itself to turn slowly and stare into the face of the great knight, holding his deadly sword to my throat.
Ser Criston Cole.
"Well. This is certainly a sight I do not often see," I felt his blade just below my ear, ice cold, pressing near my jugular so hard it was daring to draw blood. "Who are you, strangers, and how did you get into this castle?" In comparison, his eyes were the complete opposite. Molten. A vileness born from hatred and loathing. I knew what had happened, yet I could not begin to understand how Rhaenyra had caused him so much pain.
"Put down your blade Ser and I will tell you all you wish to know." I would not look away. Not give him the satisfaction of knowing how my chest clenched. Not let him know of the adrenaline now setting my body alight, ready to flee.
Or fight.
"Answer my questions, and I may decide to let you and your friends live." Josh had now risen. Though they came only an inch under Criston, they nowhere near matched his strength or power. Chloe had her hand on their chest, preventing them from stepping forward, not risking my life over their recklessness.
I sighed in defeat, "My name is Eilidh. My friends and I have no idea how we got here, only that this is not our world. We come from another."
Criston was laughing not a second later, "Another world? Do you take me for a fool?" His sword angled further towards me, so much so I took a step back into the wall, his stature blocking me from my companions.
"Yes, and I can prove it." I kept his gaze, brown on brown, bark to steel, trying desperately not to be felled.
Another laugh, "How?"
"In our world, we have seen yours as fiction. Stories about Westeros and its inhabitants."
Criston smirked callously, "And you think this will save you?"
"I do," My friends looked at me in fear, the blade still stinging at my throat, "Your name is Criston Cole. You were lowborn but knighted after fighting against the Dornish Incursion."
"Everyone knows this," he said.
"I know," I steeled myself for what I was about to say next, words which could very well be my downfall, "But do they know about Rhaenyra? About you breaking your vow because you thought you loved her, only for her to reject you for duty and wish to keep you as her whore?" Criston's eyes turned to lava. His tan skin flushed with rage. His blade swung back, about to take my head before…
"Ser Criston!" His sword stopped mere inches from my throat. I choked out a breath, turning my head to my saviour.
Clad in scaly green, fiery hair tied draped perfectly over her shoulders, my eyes widened as Queen Alicent Hightower stood tall and firm in the entranceway, "What is the meaning of this?!" She demanded. Her sights set on me, in my tight jeans and cropped blue t-shirt. To my friends, equally as oddly dressed, who had finally crawled out of their heap and were now staring at her in shock. And to her gallant knight, fuelled with rage, about to sever my head.
"Your Grace," Ser Criston had lowered his sword and stood firm at attention, "I found these people, spies I believe, lurking through the castle."
The Queen furrowed her brow, scanning us once more, "Spies? I fail to see how spies, would land themselves in such a state in broad daylight right in the middle of the hall. So," She walked over to me, "I will ask again, what is the meaning of this?"
"Honestly," I said, Josh nodded with encouragement, "We don't know, Your Grace. One minute we were having lunch in the Uni, and the next we fell into your halls. Somehow, we travelled from our world into Westeros, and we have no idea how to get back." I bowed my head at the Green, waiting for her judgement.
"Another world?" Her eyebrows shot up, "Tell me, what world could be so fragile that you would simply 'fall out' of it."
I met her eyes, "I wouldn't believe me either. I wouldn't have believed any of this had you not come. Had I not been standing in front of Queen Alicent Hightower, wife of King Viserys Targaryen."
"And why would that make me believe you, young one? Everyone in this Kingdom knows my name and my husbands, tell me something that will make me believe you or I will order Ser Criston to take your head." She looked down on me with such authority that I knew whatever I said had to make it worth her while. I approached her cautiously, Ser Criston's grip tightening on his blade once more.
What I spoke next was for her alone.
"I know how you felt. That day the King proposed marriage. The look Rhaenyra gave you; you knew you had made a mistake. And it had cost you your best friend. And the night of your wedding, she could do nothing but stare at you with betrayal and anger. And it saddened you, when the King took you to his bedchamber all you could do was look at Rhaenyra as she watched you betray her."
"You could have been there to witness all of this, spy," I saw her cheeks grow hot and her hand raised ever so slightly, preparing her knight to strike.
"It's true. But there is one thing I couldn't know by simply being there." I stared straight at the Queen, ready, "That all you thought about as Viserys consummated the marriage was that you wanted to be anyone else but Alicent Hightower."
She took a sharp breath, then another and another. Never leaving my eyes, seeing my understanding in them. Knowing what I knew.
"I am so sorry, Alicent." This brought her back to reality. She blinked and pulled herself out of her daze. She turned to Criston and I knew I had failed until…
"Take our guests to the East Wing. Find them accommodation and get the servants to run them hot baths."
He looked shocked, "But, My Queen…!"
"Now, Ser Criston," Her voice was barely a whisper but still it echoed down the long stairway. She turned to our group, "Once you have all settled. I will send my handmaidens to bring you to dinner. See that you are more… appropriately dressed. You will be in the presence of the King, after all. Until then, you may explore the East Wing. I will see you shortly." And with that, she left.
The knight stared after her for a moment, before turning to us, speaking through gritted teeth, "This way." And with that, we followed.
The thumping in my head had grown to a peak by the time I had reached the guest quarters in the East Wing. On our arrival, attendants flooded to our aid, taking each of us into a door that lined the vast corridor. Upon entering, the breeze from the high arches on the far side soothed some of my aching muscles. The attendant, a small, blonde, mousy looking girl scurried away, talking about the Maesters. I walked onto the balcony that looked down onto King's Landing. There was still a slight stench, but it was far more pleasant up here. I leaned on the banister staring into the room, noting the sandy colour of the walls which were littered with certain motifs pertaining to the history of Westeros, in particular, Aegon's Conquest. I saw Balerion, Meraxes and Vhagar soaring into battle with their terrible strength and power. I shuddered as I realised one of the great beasts still lived. The rest of the chamber was furnished mostly in greens and golds, a clear symbol of the Hightowers influence over the Capital. The warm four poster bed sat along the far wall, draped in veils of dark green silk. The tables and chairs were all made of oak, varnished deep chocolate. Each had leaves and flowers carved into their edges, twirling around each other in a complicated dance. I was just about to explore the bathing room at the far side of chamber when I heard a knock on the door.
I was greeted by the face of a young man in white robes and chains. He smiled at me politely before offering to inspect my wound. I allowed him and his trolley full of lotions and potions into the room. The Maester urged me to sit on the embroidered green and gold cotton of the bed. Why Queen Alicent had set us up in such lavish accommodation I had no idea, but I welcomed the softness of the mattress. He set about inspecting my cut and, deciding it needed no stitches, instead used a putrid smelling jelly like substance to fuse the severed edges together. I winced as his dark hands cleaned it. He was being as gentle as he could but the substance did nothing to dull the pain.
I tried to distract myself, "Maester," He nodded to me, "What is in the East Wing?"
The Maester smiled warmly, "Well, there is the Godswood gardens, the training grounds where the men can train in combat," I scoffed quietly but the Maester tried to ignore me, "And the library." Bingo. If we were going to be here a while, then the least I could do was brush up on my Westerosi history.
"Has the Queen given us access to the library?" I asked.
The Maester looked surprised, "My dear, whatever for?"
"Since I'm here, I thought it would be wise to research the Doom of Valyria and the Field of Fire."
His eyes grew curious, "Ah, a student of history, are we? Forgive me, it is a rare thing for those of your… standing to be able to read such complicated works."
"Because I am lowborn and a woman?" I asked, my brow raised.
He sighed, "Forgive me. It has simply always been the way of our world."
I smiled at him, "In my world, knowledge is a right. Not a privilege given to those with power."
He smiled back, approvingly, "I couldn't agree more, My Lady."
As he left, my friends greeted him by the door, their tracksuits and summer dresses standing out against his long robes.
"Shit, Eilidh that really does stink." Josh flopped down on my bed. Most of them had been patched up. Mark had a gritty green salve applied to their scrape while Husnan's knee had been sewn.
Malina sat beside me, looking worried, "What did you say to her?"
I looked down and shook my head. Now we were here, I would not reveal Alicent's secret to them.
Chloe stared at the city below and spoke determined, "It doesn't matter. All that matters now is getting home."
"But we don't even know where we are, let alone how we get back." Mark said.
"Westeros." They all turned to me. Most eyes looked shocked or scared or a bit of both, "We're in Westeros during the height of the Targaryen dynasty."
Malina sighed, "So, that's how you knew all that stuff about Criston and Alicent?"
"Yes."
Josh stared up at the ceiling in a daze, "Well… shite."
"Yea…" I sighed heavily. Everyone had gone quiet, assessing the weight of what I had just said. Eventually, the servants returned and offered us all baths. Everyone filed out and all I could think, sitting on my plush cotton bed was Yes. Shite.
Heathens by twenty one pilots
After soaking for a considerable time in the scorching water, I made my way down to the Great Library, hoping to start on my research before we were called for dinner. The servants had attempted to put me in a corset, but I shooed them away. I would not be forced into such constrictive attire until I was required to do so. Instead, I just kept on my regular clothes, slipping my surprisingly intact phone into my pocket. The Maester, Orwyle, hobbled up to me as I entered.
"It is lovely to see a new face in my dusty old office." He said gesturing to the miles on miles of old papers, leathers, and wood, "I took the liberty of finding you a couple of volumes to get you started." He pulled me over to a large desk which was mostly covered in two absolutely enormous books, weathered and ancient.
"If you need anything else my dear, I'll be just round the corner." He said, vanishing into the shelves.
The large tomes were both bound in thick leathers, one embossed in gold and the other in silver. The former read: The Rise and Fall of Old Valyria by Maester Antinuous; the latter: The Songs and Tales of the Seven Kingdoms by Grand Maester Gawen, later continued by Grand Maester Allar. I eagerly grabbed the gold book, only to open it and find a peculiar script I was only slightly familiar with.
I rounded a corner where I found Orwyle placing scrolls onto one of the mahogany shelves, "Grand Maester? Where might I find a book for translating High Valyrian?"
He called over his shoulder, too engrossed in his work, "On the shelf just two aisles down, second row, large metal book covered in jewels. You can't miss it." I followed his directions and heaved the massive text onto the table.
Flicking it open, I began to study the most basic worlds, writing down their script with quill and ink left for me and reciting each in turn. Vala, Ābra, Riña, Taoba. Man, Woman, Girl, Boy
I sat there for so long the afternoon had flown by, I could see the sun starting to turn a burnt orange, staining the books. The Grand Maester was long gone, down the labyrinth of books. And I was alone. I kept recited as best I could, trying to adapt to the rolling r's and harsh wording of the language. I managed some other useful phrases as well, managing to string together a full sentence.
"Aegon istan endia naejot zaldrīzesdōron skoriot ziry vēttan zȳhon lua," Aegon travelled west to Dragonstone where he made his keep.
"You pronunciation is terrible, you know"
I whirled in my chair to face the intruder, and my body went cold hearing the smooth voice that invaded the silence. I gawked at the man before me, his tall broad shoulder, honed from years of fighting, covered in a jet-black cloak. His icy white hair stood out starkly from the beige and brown of the surrounding books. His hands were rooted firmly behind his back as he stepped casually towards me. His face was not so casual. His face was stone, as if sculpted by goods, no imperfections, save from the crude scar that ran down his left eye, which was obscure by a crude eyepatch. Even with the scar, especially with the scar, he would have been beautiful, if he wasn't wearing a vile frown across his face.
Aemond Targaryen stood before me. His one good eye sharp as metal, glinting in the candlelight. It is said the Targaryen's were forged from fire, but nothing could be further from the truth when it came to Aemond. His raiment was ice: bitter, lifeless, and perfect. I hadn't even heard him approach. He prowled towards me like a cat waiting for the right moment to strike, silent as snowfall.
"Aemond," I breathed, my body now rooted to the spot.
"So, the rumours are true. You do know us all," He spoke so casually that I was slightly surprised, "I didn't believe my mother until, well…" He looked me up and down, observing me. Taking in the gold in my hair flowing wildly down my shoulders; the exposed skin peering out from my cropped shirt; and the tightness of my jeans as they curved around my hips and hugged my legs. I felt very exposed at this point and moved my arms to cover my midrift, not that the prince seemed to care. He stalked around me, eyes rooted to mine, until he took a glance at my choice of reading material, "I never knew that commoners could read. What a rare commodity this is."
"I'll have you know, Your Highness," This had made my cheeks hot with anger. I took a step towards him, but he only looked down on me with boredom, "That being lowborn in my world does not prevent you from gaining knowledge, unlike here." His eyes narrowed.
His eyes flicked to my notes, seeing the messy scrawl of illegible symbols and phrases.
"These are not for your eyes, riña. It is far too refined for your understanding." His disapproval was apparent.
"I happen to understand it just fine, taoba." I could see the vein on his neck bulge. Not as dumb as you think, eh little prince?
"Ao iā ōtor syt se zaldrīzes naejot hegagon." You are a sheep for the dragon to slaughter. His smirk was gone, only cold remained.
I sighed and sat back in my chair, "Leave me to my reading, Your Highness. I have enough to worry about without you to distract me."
"I'm afraid you are hoarding the one book of substance in this place." He gestured to the metal tome, "Give it to me and you'll have your peace."
"If you want to read it you can wait until I am finished," I had retrieved my quill and was about to continue translating when I felt strong hands grab my jaw, turning it sharply until I was face3e to face with the prince.
"I don't think you heard me," His one eye was turning my body to ice, "Give. It. To. Me."
I had enough. I smacked his hand away with force, backing out of my chair, staring daggers into his eye, "Tell me, when Lucerys Velaryon cut out your eye, did he also sever your common sense or is that something you have always lacked?" He stared at me for a moment, mouth opened slightly in a mild shock.
I stared back in confusion, which was a mistake.
Not a second later, his slender hand was at my throat, his knife was drawn and pushed viciously into my neck, backing me against the table. His body was dangerously close. I could feel a storm rising from him.
"You may have my mother fooled in this little game you're playing but I will not so easily be convinced." I tried to back away, tried to escape him but he held me tighter. My lungs were screaming for oxygen and my heart was threatening to escape from my chest. His one eye was ablaze. Oh, now you've done it, "You are nothing. Your lives are meaningless to me. I will not hesitate to cut you or your friends down. And I will enjoy watching you all bleed as your life drains from you. Insult me like that again and you will know the meaning of suffering. Is that understood?" I nodded quickly, my eyes seeing stars. Everything was so close to fading before the rush of air filled me again. I collapsed onto the floor, my hands on my neck, trying to regain my vision once more. I looked for the Dragon Prince, but he had vanished, the Valyrian book along with him.