A/N: EDIT: Still not feeling well, made some errors, went back and fixed them...hopefully.
Still, that's not a lot of feedback...but a man tried. A man goes to lay down now, for he is exhausted.
FINALLY! Its ready! I can stop delaying this chapter and unleash it for all to see! Well, the first half at any rate. Had to split it in two; the chapter was getting wickedly long and folks were frothing at the bit for an update. Couldn't stomach another delay.. Second half might come early again depending on feedback. Now then, time for that early update.
I wanted this to feel like an actual episode from the show.
Hopefully I succeeded. Suppose time will tell.
*waits eagerly for feedback*
On another note, this WILL be bumped up to M in the future. After all, its Game of Thrones. You've been warned~!
If this makes it to 400 -its already well past 325~!- by some miracle, I'll update it early again. It'll receive an update regardless of course; time and feedback tend to determine update speed for me these days; that, and my health.
With my fifteen year anniversary on this site finally here, I find myself reflecting on the little things in life. What was once a lazy pastime meant for me and a few friends really grew and evolved over time. There are days when I look back on the last fifteen years here and I wonder if anyone will remember me; if I made an impact, despite never making a single cent on any of these stories. Some days were happier than others, and some stories I enjoyed writing WAY too much; to the point where I'd stay up all night working on them.
And of course, there are times when I look to the future and wonder what will become of things when I'm gone.
Of course, I try not to dwell on the latter overmuch; I'm still alive and still writing. In an ideal world, I'd like to keep doing so for as long as I can. But old age is catching up to me and these days, the world is filled with so much madness and death. Feels like everyone's lost their minds, the world over. Even before that, so many friends and fellow writers I once knew are gone, now. Will I still be here in twenty years? Ten? Five? Its a chilling thought. But for now, I'm still here, still writing.
Not Q&A for a bit, as someone complained. Ah, well.
Alight, I've kept you long enough. As ever, I own no quotes, references, quotes, themes or memes!
They're simply tributes to legends far greater than I; an old man who writes as a pastime.
Now, then...Shall We Continue?
"She's fond of you."
"Oh, hush."
"Have you considered her proposal?"
"That's what it is, isn't? Marriage. I've never been married, even before...
"Before?"
"A slip of the tongue, uncle. Don't mind me."
~Banter.
Taking Flight
Marriage.
The word bounded about Naruto's brain like a mad hare as he sprawled in the grass and stared up at the stars.
Did he dare?
The heavens held no answers for him. Not tonight. Instead that infernal word persisted, tearing his thoughts to bloody pieces.
Should he accept?
By the sage, did he even want to? He'd never been married before, not even in his first life. There had been a moment when he thought he might've found someone, that things worked out, but they never did. And so he found himself here, with no experience on a terribly risky venture with no idea of what lay in store. He knew he wasn't right in the head these days, not completely, but even so, he found himself at a loss.
If you were going to marry someone you should love them. Shouldn't you?
That was the absolute basic of the basics.
Did he love Daenerys?
He felt he could, given time, and the chance to know her. She'd suffered through an awful lot, but she hadn't let it break her. She was mad too, she just didn't realize it yet. Every Targaryen was, in their own way. Some were simply better about it than others. They were all fixated on their own dreams, their own goals. Hers was the Iron Throne. His was vengeance against House Lannister; the monsters who had stolen away his second life and any chance of peace he might've had beforehand. But afterward...? Well, there had to be an after. For both of them...
He idly conjured a rasenshuriken to his hand just to make sure he still could, held it there for a moment, then lobbed it into the ocean.
It arced gracefully into the waves, then vanished into the depths.
The short, sharp act of violence brought him little peace.
With a sigh, he craned his neck backward. "What do you think? Should I marry her?"
Ancalagon rumbled from where he lay beside him, low and deep in his throat, a bass note to rumble the cliffs.
"Right, you've not properly met her yet, have you?" An idea dawned and he grinned, pausing to scratch his head. "We'll fix that tomorrow...
(.0.0.0.)
Where had Aegon wandered off to now?!
The dawn had come and with it, the forgotten prince had vanished once more,
Daenerys might've found it amusing if her nephew weren't so damnably skilled at hiding.
Sometimes it seemed Aegon could only be found when he wanted to be. At others he simply...vanished, often for hours at a time, wandering off to do gods knew what.
She had thought to find him up here on the cliffs again today as she had yesterday, but alas, he was nowhere to be seen. Wind tugged at her hair as she turned her gaze to the clouds. She could glimpse Drogon and her children wheeling out high above the waves from here fighting over something they'd caught, but there was no sign of Ancalagon among them. In all likelihood he'd probably flown off in search of food. So where had his master gone..?
A faint cry was her only warning. Her gaze snapped up.
Ancalagon hurtled out of the clouds overhead not a heartbeat later, a dark meteor with both wings tucked flat against his sides as he dove. His roar rattled the world. In an instant she understood. He must've been gliding only a moment ago. Small wonder she'd not heard him. As she looked on he spread his wingspan once more and let a thermal lift him upward before beating the air with ponderous majesty. Even at this distance the wind from his wings assailed her like a hurricane. She glimpsed a shock of pale hair atop the dragon's broad back before he swept in.
He landed with a mighty crunch and that seemed to rattle Dragonstone itself.
His bright eyes saw her, and she in turn saw them narrow.
Oh, dear.
The greater dragon lumbered forward, slowly at first, then with speed.
Daenerys felt her heart skip a beat.
No, surely not. He wouldn't dare.
He absolutely would.
Ancalagon surged forward on all fours, opened his mighty jaws, and roared right in her face, a cry so loud it left her ears ringing and eyes watering. It seemed to go on and on, as though he intended to deafen the very would itself. An ugly pang of realization struck her then, as she rocked back on her heels. Was this how she appeared to others when she rode Drogon? How terrifying she must seem when she sat atop his back. She'd never once given thought to how others might see her.
Now she had a taste of their fear; and she found it rather unpleasant.
The roar cut off abruptly, leaving Daenerys reeling, but those jaws didn't close, not for a moment. Ancalogon snarled at her, baring countless teeth for her to see. She glimpsed a tongue of fire simmering in the back of that massive throat. Oh gods. He was going to burn her alive. It should have terrified her. Yet she only felt a strange, eerie calm.
So be it. She'd come this far.
If this was to be her end, she would face it head on.
Daenerys raised an ungloved hand, then held it up before the dragon's face to touch his snout.
Ancalagon could've snapped that hand clean off; bit it right in half with her arm and the rest of her besides-she wouldn't have been able to do anything about it. Instead he inhaled deeply, drawing her forward. His growl became a pleased trill as his pupils dilated. Abruptly, he shoved his snout into her chest, forcing her to catch his snout or be bowled over entirely. The faint smell of fire and smoke assaulted her senses and she released a short, shuddering breath, trying to control her hammering heart.
"Good boy...
(.0.0.0.)
"Good boy...
Naruto watched the singular scene unfold atop Anacalagon's back.
A broad smile split his whiskered face from ear to ear.
He'd left it to his old friend to decide, and so he had.
That settled it his doubts. She was a keeper!
Marriage it was, then.
"Aha!"
(.0.0.0.)
"Aha!"
Aegon slid down off his back to land beside Daenerys, grinning like a madman. Which he probably was, the daft bastard. "He likes you~!"
She laughed a little and let the black behemoth go, nearly broken by the experience. "How do you know?"
Her nephew tapped one hand to his scared skull. "He would've eaten you otherwise."
She granted him a scathing glare. "You were certain he wouldn't?
"Fairly." he shrugged one shoulder. "He wanted to get the measure of you, probably."
"And if he tried to eat me?"
"I wouldn't let him." the way he said with such assurance-she almost believed him. "No need to worry about that now, look!" he laughed as the giant dragon laid down beside them with a pleased rumble. "You've clearly impressed him. You'll get along just fine."
"Aren't you afraid of losing control of him?"
"Control?" the broken prince scoffed and walked past her, lingering on the edge of the cliff.. "What control? The idea that we control the dragons is an illusion. Its a partnership." He looked out to see and her dragons beyond. "For you they're you children. For me, well." He chuckled, looked back to Ancalagon and scratched the beast's snout. "I guess you could call Ancalagon my brother. He doesn't speak, but he reminds me of an old friend."
Her brow furrowed. "A dragon?
"Its a long story." his face closed down. "I'll tell you about it sometime."
Silence stretched between them.
Belatedly, it occurred to her that she ought to ask Aegon for his answer; if he had agreed to her offer. So much hinged on his cooperation. He had the potential to make things very difficult -impossible even!- for her if he too it into his head to strike out on his own. Moreover, she was curious to see what he would say.
"I accept." He beat her to the punch once again, the rascal.
Daenerys felt her heart skip a beat despite herself. "I beg your pardon?"
"Your proposal." he pivoted back to face her in his entirety, smiling softly. "If you'll still have me."
Oh. Oh!
"Are you certain?" she nearly cursed herself for the slip, but her tongue defied her regardless. "This isn't something you can take back."
"Hmm." he stepped to her and took her hands in his, idly tracing her knuckles with one calloused thumb. "I'm sure."
Oh gods, why did her face feel so warm? She rather like the way his had fit in hers-no! Bad girl! Focus!
With this, their causes were united as one. They would face Westeros together.
So why did she feel so restless.
She should've been thinking about the Iron Throne; yet in this moment she found he thoughts broken and disjointed. It felt...rather nice, knowing she wasn't alone in the world anymore. So what if her only other -known!- relative was a little mad. He wasn't a screaming lunatic like her father, nor was he a sniveling coward. Here was someone who would stand beside her, not in front of nor behind her. An equal. She couldn't remember the last time she'd had one of those, not in the truest sense of the word...not since Drogo.
Could she learn to love Aegon as she had him?
She found him pleasant enough company, if a bit wild.
But he didn't know. She couldn't have children. She'd have to tell him, and soon-
Mercifully, he released her hands and stepped backwards to his dragon. "Care for a race?"
Daenerys arched a pale brow. "I'm not sure that would be wise."
"Wise, she says. Ha!" Aegon laughed happily as he climbed atop Ancalagon. "Who said anything about being wise? This is meant to be fun." She stared at him for a long moment until, at length, he sighed. "Don't be a stick in the mud. You'll be glad of moments like these when you're queen, ya know. You'll have precious little time for them in the future."
"..."
Ancalagon swiveled his massive head to look at her again in agreement. Aegon grinned. "Afraid you'll lose, your grace?"
The spark of competition kindled within her bosom. "I didn't say that."
"Then you have nothing to fear." he slung himself into the saddle.
Her gaze met his. Her intended didn't budge. Not one bit.
"Go ahead," he grinned." Call Drogon. We'll wait...
(.0.0.0.)
Tyrion considered himself a wise man.
Not the strongest and certainly not the tallest, but wise? Yes, wise enough. He drank and he knew things. Well, perhaps less so the drinking these days. Still! He prided himself on reading between the lines, seeing things before others could; anticipating the actions of both allies and enemies alike.
And this?
This boded poorly.
Yes, most poorly indeed.
He had seen them together for several days now, Daenerys and Aegon, holding hands. Talking to one another. Conversing. They had flown away together some time ago, racing across the cliffs. Aegon had won said race most handily, but it was what came after that concerned him. They'd flown out across Blackwater and not returned for some time. When they finally did, they looked smug about something.
Could dragons look smug? Theirs certainly had.
It soon became something of an open secret in the days that followed.
They spent much time together as their armies massed, preparing.
Granted, the unlikely duo slept apart and hadn't shown any outward signs of affections, but still. The rest of the Council began to take notice of it.
Now, in all fairness, Tyrion wasn't privy to what they were thinking- their Queen had not shared her plans with them- but he could make an educated guess. It was precisely said guess that alarmed him. The realm did not have the fondest memory of the Targaryens to begin with, not after the horrid insanity of the Mad King. And yet here two of his kin were, openly consorting with one another. The knowledge was suppressed for now, but once they began moving their forces across the rest of Westeros, that would soon chance.
Oh, yes. This could go very poorly, very quickly.
He finally dared to broach the subject come breakfast one morning. "I understand congratulations are in order?"
Daenerys shot him a withering look, set down her fork, cleaned her lips with a napkin and took a deep breath. Her face became a curious study of contrasts. "They are."
"Well?" Olenna tutted at her. "Don't keep us in suspense."
Daenerys pushed her chair back, took a deep breath stood to address them all.
"I will marry...
Silence ruled over them all.
...my nephew," she finished. "Lord Aegon Targaryen.
Oberyn's smile was just a shade short of smug. "And when did you decide this?
"Several days ago." She lifted her chin ever so slightly; as though daring him to defy her claim. "Tyrion glimpsed a mulish glint in her eye. "It was the best way to bind him and his dragon to our cause."
"Not the only way," Olenna laughed, "But certainly the most enjoyable for the two of you." She winked her way, utterly without shame. "You Targaryens always did have strange tastes. I suppose its better than a brother marrying their sister."
Tyrion nearly laughed despite his own anxiety; he choked it down. She had no fear at all, this woman-no, that wasn't it. Olenna no longer had anything left to lose. Her family was dead, her legacy in ashes,vengeance all that remained. The Tyrell line would die with her. That made her quite dangerous indeed. Lack of fear made for a intractable foe.
"Do you object to this course of action?"
"Oh no, not at all." The Tyrell matriarch granted her a wry smile. "I nearly found myself married to a dragon once, you know. The stories I could tell you." Her wrinkled face softened for a moment and her eyes grew distant, as though she were somewhere far from here, somewhere better. Perhaps she saw her granddaughter Then her gaze hardened and the moment was lost. "But I think not. No, I chose who I wanted. As have you, it seems."
Their queen seemed to take strength from that.
She would not be swayed, not on this matter, perhaps not ever.
But why? Why go out of her way to establish relations with someone who, by all rights, claimed to be mad?
Yes he had a rather large dragon, but she had three, and they had several armies. Why would she...
Realization struck him in a horrific thunderbolt.
Of course. How could he have missed it? She was fond of Aegon. And he, her. He had seen love blossom on battlefields before. And this was war. Passion sparked It might well be only a matter of time. But would it end in disaster? Their cause balanced on a knife's edge. To fall one way promised victory, the other, doom. He let his gaze roam about the table, trying to get the measure of the rest of the council.
Oberyn was grinning fit to burst, secretly pleased. The Dornish were well and truly bound to Daenerys now.
Varys seemed inclined to agree with their queen -no doubt thinking it best for the realm-while Olenna had already said her peace. Yara didn't seem to much care one way or another, but then again she was Ironborn. Who could tell her thoughts one way or the other.
And then she surprised them all. "I don't see what the problem is. If they want to have at one another, let them."
Daenerys coughed into her wine.
Oberyn barked a laugh. "A woman after my own heart!"
"Sorry," she smirked back at him, "You're not quite my type.
The Red Viper only laughed harder.
Tyrion nearly despaired at it all. Was he the only one who saw the danger here? The realm had revolted against the Targaryens once before; if faced with more oft he same they would surely do so again. Their hope lay in the hands of Daenerys, not this mad boy who was so eager to burn their enemies.
Olenna saved him from asking the question nearest and dearest to his heart. "And where is our dear prince, hmm?"
A mighty roar rattled the castle from top to bottom.
He saw it then, the ghost of a smile upon their queen's face. "I suspect he'll be joining us shortly."
It was too much. He had to say something. "My queen, are you sure this is wise-
"I do not think, I know." she interjected, rendering his protest moot.
"He would happily burn half the countryside!"
"And as I said before," she countered, "I am not here to be queen of the ashes."
"So you say." Olenna tutted in mild disapproval. "I'll say to now what I did then. How do you mean to take the iron throne if you restrain yourself?
The doors burst open.
"Restraint?" a familiar voice intoned. "Who said anything about restraint?"
Aegon certainly cut a fearsome sight in that black armor of his. He didn't so much walk as he did stalk to the queen's side. There was a high, wild look in his eye, one that Tyrion found himself shying away from. The boy might well become a second Maegor at this rate. He could understand the appeal of course; the carrot and the sick, the velvet glove...or the iron fist beneath it. When faced with a massive beast like Ancalagon, the offer of peace would certainly seem most appealing.
He must have been out scouting.
Wait. What did he have there in his hand?
"Nephew." Daenerys smiled for him. "So nice of you to join us."
"Aunt." he didn't smile back, but instead thumped the sack down on the table and ripped the coarse cloth away. Revealed was a severed head for all to see, its face frozen in final moments of agony. Tyrion had no idea who the poor bastard was, and didn't have time ascertain his identity, because the prince was already speaking. "The Lannisters are marching on Highgarden tomorrow. The Tarlys have betrayed us."
Daenerys merely arched an eyebrow. "Have they, now? That was rather...unwise."
"Greed got the better of them. This one sang like a canary once I used a bit of fire."
Tyrion felt his jaw click open. Of course the Tarlys had turned their coats. The utter fools.
Olenna sighed under her breath. "They would be under Randyll's leadership, then. I hadn't thought him that stupid...
Yes, Tyrion thought, it was. Spectacularly stupid. And he he knew precisely how their Queen and her intended would answer. He'd not forgotten the motto of their house. How could he? Fire and blood. They would unleash the dragons to reach Higharden in time, and in doing so, all hell would break loose.
As fate would have it, Tyrion was both very, very wrong...
...and very right.
A/N: We'll pick up here next chapter~! Worry not, I'm not skipping that infamous scene. How could I?
As ever, the Embers rule remains. If people don't like this story? If they don't enjoy it? Well...I'll not continue it. That's no joke, folks. I'm so busy these days with two jobs; basically, I don't have time off. Not anymore. My free time is limited and as such, I can't afford to focus on something folks don't like. Reviews keep me writing in these times, and keep the daily updates flowing. Silence...silence only hurts. I hate having to beg for feedback, but without it...well, it feels like I'm not making an impact.
By all means, speak up! Make yourselves heard!
So in the Immortal Words of Atlas...
...Review...Would You Kindly?
And enjoy the Previews!
They're mostly the same.
As ever:
SPOILERS! SPOILERS! SPOILERS!
PLOT DETAILS AHOY!
YE BE WARNED!
Read at your own risk!
As ever, these are from the far flung future...or are they~?!
(Previews!) AKA Season Seven...
There were days when Tywin Lannister wished he had died on the privy.
Today was such a day.
Death burst from clouds.
"DRACARYS!"
We will not take Casterly Rock with the unsulied.
A pall fell over the room. Tyrion waited for the other boot to drop. Eventually, it did.
Surely you do not mean to burn it?!
No, it will fall.
It has no value. The matter is not up for discussion. I have heard your counsel and-
The doors bust open.
Jon winced. "You're insane."
"I am." Aegon-Naruto!-granted him a small a little. "But I'm sane enough to admit it."
"That doesn't make any sense.
"Trying having your skull smashed in as a babe, dying, and coming back. See if things make sense then."
"I have!"
"Someone smashed in your skull as a baby?"
No...but I suffered something similar not long ago."
...you're telling the truth, aren't you?"
I wish you good fortune in the war to come. You'll need it.
You want a wight, send a dragon over the bloody wall and grab one. None of this stupid horse piss.
Someone knocked on the door.
It was her.
R&R~!