AN: So a surprise new teaser story, which is partly the fault of the Discord server I am in encouraging me to write new stories and enabling my worst habits :D
But yes, here I am with a new Percy Jackson/ Game of Thrones story, just testing the waters so to speak, and seeing if there is any interest. Especially since true to form, I've been testing out using other PJO characters, first Jason in My Hero Academia and RWBY to see if there is any interest in reading a PJO story with non-Percy MC. This brings us to this story, which will be a Nico-centric story.
I'm tempted to add in a couple of other PJO characters, not many, two or three, who will have arrived through different means and methods. I.e. being reborn with their memories after a screwup with the River Lethe in one case, and in another case, stupid Underworld BS. Either way, I'm not fully set on that idea, and if there is quite a bit of opposition, it is not something I am so invested in, that I can't drop it if expedient. I know I sometimes get frustrated when authors add more than one character into a dimension hopping crossover.
That said let me know your thoughts.
Also, just to make sure you're not blindsided. This is an AU NICO. He is going to be different from canon Nico in multiple ways. Some of his backstory and how it differs will be touched upon in-story, some of the differences will be subtle, and some will be much more obvious.
You've been warned :)
Disclaimer: I do not own PJO or Game of Thrones.
( - )
Chapter 1
( - )
(With Nico Di Angelo)
The sun was shining, and the birds were singing their pretty little songs.
The sky overhead was a deep, clear, pure blue, only marred by the odd wispy cloud.
Looking around at the verdant fields of green and the lush forest in the distance, a smile spread across Nico's face as a gentle breeze swirled around him, ruffling his shaggy black hair and his thin, rough spun tunic.
It was still only early in the morning, but it still looked like it was going to be a beautiful day in the little farming community of Hookton-on-Weir.
Wiping the sweat off his brow with the back of his hand, he looked over to the small collection of homely-looking houses across the river, his simple and rustic home.
Behind the little hamlet, just over a mile away and across the river the hamlet was named for, loomed a daunting, dark grey castle, its partially melted towers reaching up into the sky like skeletal fingers. The place was called Harrenhal and the largest castle in all of Westeros, though also the most ill-omened.
Now though, it stood as little more than an ancient ruin on the northern shore of the Gods Eye lake, and an eyesore that spoiled his otherwise picturesque view of the Riverland's verdant countryside.
But still, after two years the intimidating monolith and the monument to old King Harren the Black's hubris and the Targaryen's ruthless cruelty had become a commonplace sight for him and all of the villagers that lived in Hookton.
He'd never been in the castle itself, as despite its derelict appearance it was still inhabited by the inbred, and half-mad Whent family. But he had been close enough to the fortress to stand in its all-encompassing shadow many times while visiting the market and inns in the surrounding village of Harrenhal.
His lips thinned as he remembered the few times he'd gotten a bit too close to the looming structure.
The village of Harrenhal itself was pleasant, and although the populace was poor, they were still happy and well-fed.
Half-mad the Whents might be, but they were still better liege lords than most. Or rather they were absentee liege lords, which was essentially what made them so better than most. After all, they never bothered the villagers except when it came time to collect their tithe, and even then, they very rarely if ever deigned to visit their serfs in person.
Not that he blamed them for their madness.
If anything, he found what little lucidity they apparently clung onto admirable, especially considering just how haunted the great keep was.
He himself had only skirted the edges of it on a few occasions, and he'd already seen the many hundreds of spectres that glided and swooped through its crumbling ruins. Considering the number of ghosts, he had seen and their less than clement disposition, he was genuinely surprised that the Whents hadn't become frothing at the mouth, stark raving lunatics already.
Shaking his head, at the memory of all those tortured souls he had seen floating and flitting around the castle's colossal towers, Nico forcibly shifted his gaze back to his far more pleasant surroundings.
He'd put that stuff behind him.
He wasn't a hero anymore, nor was a diplomat, or a medium for the dead, and he certainly wasn't his father's emissary.
No, as far as he was concerned Nicodemus Di Angelo, the Son of Hades, and Herald of Pluto, was dead and buried, and in his stead was just Nico Freeman, a 'recently arrived freeman from the Crownlands', that had been given 'written permission' to take over one of the few abandoned farmsteads in the area.
So far, not a single person, not even the Whents, had so much as raised an eyebrow at his identity. Not when he had a written note verifying every he had said, not that many in the hamlet, or in the larger village of Harrenhal were able to read more than a few words.
Instead, he'd been warmly welcomed into the community with open arms and many offers of advice and strong arms to help him clear, plough and reseed his new land.
That had been two years ago, and now his land was clear of weeds and bracken, and was instead full of carefully cultivated crops, some of the best in the area. More than that, with two good seasons under his belt, he'd even started expanding his farmstead and was in the midst of ploughing a fourth field to get it ready for seeding during the next season.
A satisfied smile spread across his face as he reminisced about all he had done over the last two years.
He had built a simple, but fulfilling life for himself, and honestly, he loved it.
It had been two years since he had arrived in this foreign land, and despite the backwardness of its society and its general lack of technology, he'd never been happier.
There was just something beautiful in the simplicity of life in Riverlands.
He was too busy to feel anxious and nervous, and far too tired to lie awake at night fretting about godly nonsense.
He smiled again.
Yes, even though he didn't quite know how he had ended up Westeros of all places considering the last place he'd been was Tartarus, but all the same he had no regrets.
His new home was damn sight nicer than Tartarus, and in many ways far more pleasant than Earth.
Here, he didn't have any godly stress or world-threatening responsibilities. The new society he now resided in was rougher than what he had known before, but even so, it lacked any of the concerns and anxieties associated with modern life. It was just simple, rustic and easygoing.
Sure, he missed his friends; Percy, Annabeth, Grover, Reyna, Thalia and Frank, and he definitely missed the dearly departed Rachel and both his sisters… Hazel and Bianca
His smile faded at the thought of Hazel and Bianca.
He missed them both dearly, as he did with all his old friends.
But at the same time, he was happy in Hookton, just as he knew they were likely happy back on Earth, or in the latter three's cases, in Elysium.
They had won the Gigantomachy after all, the world had been in a relative state of peace, and all of them had moved on with their lives.
Percy and Annabeth, as predicted, had stayed together after the war, and had ended up going to college in New Rome.
Grover had gotten married to his long-time girlfriend and had once again taken up his position on the Council of Cloven Hooves.
Frank had settled into his new position as Praetor, with Reyna providing him all the support he could ever need. The both of them had been getting quite close the last time he had seen them, so close in fact that at the time he had suspected they were only one awkward situation away from hooking up.
Thalia meanwhile was doing what she did best, marauding around the countryside with the rest of the Hunt, killing monsters and saving people.
All of them had moved on in one way or another, and he'd been the one left behind.
He was the one that had been stuck in a rut, unable to drag himself away from the duties his father forced upon him, and so busy that he couldn't truly live his life. Not with the ever-present shadow of his lineage hanging over his head.
Nico let out a loud sigh and shook those dark thoughts out of his head
That was all in the past now, and with every day that went by it become more and more like a dream.
He smiled again and took a deep breath of fresh country air.
This was his life now; he was just a simple farmer and he wouldn't have it any other way. He didn't have to worry about gods, monsters or war. Instead, his greatest concern was the weather and the occasional wild dog or fox that harassed his chickens.
It was pretty idyllic all things considered.
"Ready to go again?" Nico called out, a smile spreading across his face he reached down and grabbed a handful of earth and started rubbing his hands together, dirtying his palms before with a grunt he grabbed onto the roughly cut handles of the wooden plough and started pushing.
"Ready when you are!" A sweet, soft voice replied.
Looking up he sent his friend Pia, a smile.
Pia, or Pretty Pia as some of the villagers called her, was a short, attractive girl only a couple of years younger than him, with thick, honey colour hair that she liked to let flow free around her shoulders, kind hazel eyes, and a warm personality.
The girl was very sweet and gentle, and also very free-spirited.
More than that, she was also generous, hardworking and always meant well.
She didn't have a single bad bone in her.
The fact she was helping him now was evidence enough of that, especially considering her father was the miller and her family was one of the wealthiest in the village, which meant that there was no need for her to pitch in and help in the fields. But did so all the same out of the goodness of her heart. She'd even refused an offered place at Harrenhal working in the buttery and several offers of marriage by some of the other freemen, to stick around and help him with the harvest, much to her father's oddly cheerful amusement.
"Ready to go!" Pia called back, a bright smile on her face as she grabbed August the draft horse's reins and started to lead him along.
Pushing the plough as August pulled it, he made sure to keep it straight and on track as they steadily made progress, churning up the earth and knocking loose the occasional rock or old tree root.
It was funny in many ways.
Ploughing the field was hard work, even with August, and it was work that he could do with just a click of his fingers were he to use his father's domain, and yet, he didn't.
Instead, he did it the mortal way and honestly, it was all the more satisfying because of that.
Grinning to himself, he continued to guide the plough as it tore up the earth.
In the years he'd been in this land he had only ever used the most basic and latent of his abilities, and even then, he'd only used it to interact with the occasional wandering ghost. With him occasionally summoning them to him so he could have a chat with them about the area, and about their memories of what had been – he'd dutifully sent those he spoke to onto the other side after their conversation.
Other than that, however, he'd allowed his powers to lie dormant, after all, there had been no real need to use it. He hadn't been in any fights, nor had he needed to travel any great distance. The only thing he had need them for was to manipulate the earth, and even then, he didn't use them.
In many ways not having to use them was a nice feeling.
Back in his other life, he'd felt constant pressure to use his abilities.
At times it had felt like he was almost being forced to use them, as his entire being, just like that of every other demigod, seemed to just naturally attract conflict.
But here he no longer had that nagging whisper in his head encouraging him to use his powers.
Moreover, he was no longer a trouble magnet.
In the last two years, he hadn't so much as had an angry word said to him.
The worst that had happened had been a few wild dogs and foxes bothering his livestock.
On top of which his ADHD was all but gone.
He no longer felt that constant urge to be active.
Instead, he'd found peace and contentment in being just a normal run-of-the-mill guy.
The only time he ever really attracted attention, was when he drank in the tavern, got drunk, and told his 'wild' stories. Or when he came up with his 'mad' ideas to increase productivity, and streamline the process of farming, by introducing strange new technology and ideas to the locals, like irrigation, crop rotation, and the potential of water wheels.
Which basically meant he'd told some earth-based Fairy Tales and yarns about his old life, all while passing off what little he remembered from his patchy lower middle school education in 1940s Italy, and upper middle school education in the 2000s in Westover Hall Military School. By the standard's of 2000s society on earth, he was pretty poorly educated, but by Westerosi standards, he was more knowledgeable than even the most educated of Maesters.
"I think that should do, Pia!" Nico called out after an hour of work, as he looked back at their progress.
They'd pretty much tilled the entire field now.
The rest of it he could do with just a hand tool.
Wiping the sweat off his brow, he accepted the wineskin Pia offered him with a smile.
"Thanks," He smiled warmly, taking a sip of wine.
By Italian standards the cheap wine was dishwater.
Not that he had all that much experience with drinking fancy wine. He'd only really sampled wine once or twice when his mother had been teasing him, and even then with his unrefined taste buds, he hadn't taken much pleasure from it. That, and when he'd been getting hosted at Camp Jupiter he'd often partaken in a bit of underage drinking there too, for diplomatic reasons of course.
But all the same, quality aside, it was still sweet and pleasant, especially after a long day's work.
Handing the wineskin back to Pia, he watched as the shorter girl sent him a sultry smile and place her pouty lips around the wineskin and took a sip.
Rolling his eyes at her flirting, he couldn't help but smile as she then sauntered forwards and slipped into his arms.
Looking down at her, he grinned when she pushed herself up on to her tiptoes and pressed her lips against his, in a quick, chaste kiss.
He could taste the sweet wine on her lips.
"So, now we're done for the day…" Pia trailed off, batting her eyes at him.
He laughed slightly and shook his head. "Unfortunately, I need to put the equipment away still, and then feed and stable August."
"Boo, I was hoping for a roll in the hay." Pia pouted in response.
"I'm not sure your father would approve," Nico chuckled drily, allowing her to slip out of his arms, as he instead headed over to the bored-looking August.
"It's never stopped us before," She smiled, fluttering her eyelashes at him as she brushed some dust off her rough spun, green dress. "Besides, I think you'd be surprised about what my pa thinks."
"Oh?" He queried, unhooking August from the plough and leading him across the and over to a nearby horseless cart.
"Yes," Pia bobbed her head, speeding up so she was now walking next to him, a bright smile on her face as she idly stroked August's nose.
August snuffled in response.
"I see," He said carefully, tying his horse's reins to one of the wood poles that jutted out of the top of his roughly made cart. "Well, maybe I'll have to have a talk with him in the future."
Pia's eyes widened in delight.
Walking around the back of the cart, he heaved a large bucket of water out of the back and moved it over to the patiently waiting August.
Glancing into the dark water within the wooden bucket, he momentarily caught sight of his reflection in the rippling water.
He'd matured a lot in the last couple of years.
He was only nineteen years old but looked older.
His skin was once again the same healthy olive colour it had been in his youth back before he had started spending most of his time in the shadows or Underworld, though it was more weathered than it had been. He very much looked like a man who spent most of his time outdoors come rain or shine.
His hair was as black as ever but was far more unkempt and shaggy than it used to be. From a glance, he could already tell that he'd need to ask Pia to give it a trim again.
But the most striking thing about him was the change in his facial features.
The years of war, battle, and later farming had taken their toll on him. His baby fat had long since been burned away and had been replaced by a thin face, with high cheekbones, a long patrician nose and thin lips.
He looked, as the locals like to tell him, more like a noble than a peasant, which he suspected was probably one of the reasons why a rumour had begun to swirl around the area that he was the lowborn son of a Crownland noble. Not that the rumours bothered him, after all, they were harmless and were little more than the bored musings of the local gossips.
Washing his hands and face in the water, he moved the bucket over to August so he could have a drink.
Stretching as he stood, he then turned back to the rosy faced Pia.
"You're going to talk to my pa?" She asked, her eyes shining, and a coy smile spreading across her face as she idly twirled a lock of her long hair around one of her fingers.
Nico shrugged in response, a quick smile flitting across his face as he turned and headed back for the rest of the equipment.
"Come on, that's not an answer," Pia called after him, her voice practically giddy.
Smiling in response, he wiggled his eyebrows and continued to tease her, much to her delight as she continued trying to poke and prod answers out of him.
Grinning as this happened, he once again took solace in the newfound pleasure of his simple country life.
( - )
(Sometime later)
Pushing open the door to his house he was met with the sight of his simple one-up-one-down home.
The main room had a big stone hearth at one end with the smouldering remains of a fire inside, and an iron cooking pot hanging over the smoking ashes.
To one side of the room, there was a heavy wooden table next to a small, shuttered window, that was completely covered in detritus.
While on the other side of the room, there was a set of shelves with several knickknacks and tools on them and a couple of wooden chairs with some sheep skin hanging over the backs for comfort. The chairs were positioned close to the smouldering fire.
There were also several other trunks that he used for storage, and in the corner of the room, there was another set of shelves that acted as his pantry and storage for his other kitchen stuff.
It was all very rustic and humble, especially with the simplistic nature of his furniture and his uneven wood floor.
But it was also all his.
His home, his sanctuary and his life, and he loved it.
Smiling in contentment, he idly dropped his wineskin, and several tools onto the table and then headed up the wooden ladder to the upper floor of his house, to where his bed and fresh clothing were.
Stripping his sweat-soaked tunic off, he hung it on the clothes hanging from the rafters and grabbed a fresh shirt. Groaning in discomfort as he felt the cool breeze chilling his sweat-covered chest, he descended the ladder and headed outside so he could wash the sweat off him in an outside rain bucket.
He'd have a proper wash in the morning, but for now, he needed to be quick so he could walk Pia back to the hamlet in a timely manner, after which he would then grab a drink and some food in the tavern.
Nothing beat a good tankard of ale after a hard day in the fields, especially with the sky darkening and evening drawing in.
Heading back outside, he ignored Pia's playful whistling and quickly gave himself a top-off wash, before pulling on his fresh shirt.
"Ready to go?" He asked.
Looping her arm through his own, Pia sent him a sunny smile. "Ready when you are."
Nodding, he paused long enough to lock up and then led the way down the dusty path and towards the nearby hamlet, with Pia clinging onto his arm as they crossed a couple of fields and then started walking past the other houses, many of which look quite similar to his own, all save two.
One of which was the tavern. A big wooden hall with a slate roof and large stables attached – the tavern was often frequented by travellers and merchants stopping off for the night with their retinue.
The other was Pia's father's house, a big building with a freshly thatched roof, that backed onto the river, with its own jetty and access to the water-powered mill her father and his workers used daily.
These two buildings dominated the small hamlet, the next largest building to them was the humble Sept next to the tavern, and even that was only marginally bigger than the average house.
"You want to stop off at home?" He asked, looking sideways at Pia.
She nodded her head.
"I need to freshen up and say hello to pa and let him know I'm still alive." She giggled, pausing long enough to push herself up onto her tiptoes and lay a soft kiss on his cheek.
Were other people around it would be enough to make the old spinsters start tutting about the impropriety of youth.
But fortunately, it was still relatively early in the evening, and so everyone else was either at their homes or already at the tavern.
"Do you want me to wait?" He asked.
"No don't worry, I'll catch up," Pia replied with a bright smile, before spinning on her heel, her long brown hair flipping about behind her, as she instead headed towards her house, an extra swing in her hips as she walked.
Rolling his eyes, he headed for the tavern.
As he approached, he could hear the rowdy sound of voices from within.
Pushing open the door, he was met with a wall of sound, and a wave of hot fetid air. The hall inside stank of a potent combination of body odour, beer, a multitude of cooking smells and smoke. It was truly an assault on the senses in all the worst possible ways.
Ignoring the stench of humanity, Nico instead smiled as a chorus of greetings met his arrival.
Dotted around the straw-covered floor were a number of tables and benches, upon which sat a motley collection of local field hands, milling assistants, travelling merchants, a drunk Septon, a band of what looked like bards, and a couple of soldiers who were either attached to the merchant's caravans or had been patrolling the King's Road and had stopped off at the tavern for the night – despite the hamlet being quite small its proximity to the King's Road made the local tavern quite a popular rest-stop for travellers.
"Nico!" Lucan, the resident blacksmith at Harrenhal, shouted out in greeting.
"Lucan?" Nico replied, a bemused smile on his face as he crossed the busy room and joined Lucan at his tale.
Sat with the burly, bald blacksmith, several other familiar faces, and a couple of unknown ones.
Across from Lucan was Ben, the older man's apprentice, and there was also Will, a fletcher from the village of Harrenhal, Robin a local fisherman from Hookton, and Ruby, a good wife that often helped, Michael, their semi-regularly drunk Septon out from time to time. Also at the table were three other unfamiliar people.
Two of them were wearing boiled leather armour, with surcoats over the top showing the insignia of a forked purple lightning bolt on a black field speckled with four-pointed stars. Both soldiers had daggers on their hips but were otherwise unarmed.
The final stranger at the table was a plump middle-aged man, with fashionable-looking clothing, and a large and well-oiled moustache. Around the man's neck was a golden chair, and on the front of his expensive-looking jerkin was a golden broach which displayed an odd crest of what looked like two crossed feathers.
From an initial glance, the man looked more like a merchant than he did some lordling.
"Surprised to see you over at Hookton? I thought you stuck to the Brown Bear?" Nico asked, as he took the offered seat at the table, and tried to catch the barmaid, 'Sweet Sally's' eye.
"And usually I would," Lucan nodded, a smile playing around his lips at the reminder of his usual haunt, the Brown Bear, a much bigger and rowdier inn over in Harrenhal. "But I've been hearing some rumblings of dangerous goings on over at the Capital, so thought I'd hike over 'ere with Ben and Will and see if any of the merchants stopping around here for the night know anythin'."
Nico's brow furrowed at the explanation.
Lucan was a good man, but very much a creature of habit. He hated change and loved routine, which meant that for him to trek over a mile to come to the Hookton tavern he must have heard something pretty dire.
"What've you heard?" Nico asked, his attention flitting between Lucan, Ben and Will, before moving over to the others.
"You're in luck, Nico. I've got ya the first pint from a freshly finished batch, you'll have to tell me 'ow it is!" Sally, a round, gregarious woman, with bright red cheeks and a mane of curly red hair, interrupted as she placed a large flagon in front of him.
Forcing a smile, and taking a sip of the surprisingly sweet ale, he nodded. "It tastes good Sally! Pass on my compliment to Tom!"
"Will do!" Sally beamed. "You want any grub while I'm 'ere?"
"Some stew if you have any left?" Nico asked.
"Aye, tis rabbit though," Sally said, waiting for him to nod, before she sent him another smile, clapped him on the shoulder and bustled off back to the bar and her husband, Tom.
Taking another sip, Nico turned his attention back to Lucan. "So, what've you heard?"
Looking around, Lucan leaned forward so only those at the table could hear. "The way I've heard it, the Mountains that rides had been a ridin' round the Riverlands and has sacked several villages."
Nico frowned, he'd only heard rumours of the 'Mad Dog', a gigantic savage that wears the flesh of a man and brutalises all he comes across. But, from what little he had heard in hushed whispers and exaggerated yarns, the Mountain resided in the Westerlands, and very rarely ventured out save for tournament or at the bidding of his cruel master, the infamous Lord Tywin Lannister.
"It's the truth," One of the soldiers muttered, his grizzled face scrunching up into a scowl. "Our lord, Beric Dondarrion, was given the task of 'unting the Mountain and 'is men down and bringing 'im to justice."
"Was given the command by the Hang of the King himself, ole Ned Stark," His fellow guardsman, a younger man, with curly blonde hair and a fresh face, added excitedly. "Wish I had been there, so I could ride out with Lord Dondarrion."
"No, you don't," The older guardsman snapped. "I saw the Mountain at a tourney once, and he's not human. He's a monster that wears the face of a human, and 'is men, from what I 'eard are just as bad as 'im."
The younger man scowled petulantly but didn't reply.
Licking his lips, Nico turned back to Lucan. "Have you heard why he is raiding the Riverlands?"
Lucan shrugged. "The Whents don't know, somethin' to do with some lordly bullshit at Court probably. That's part of the reason I'm 'ere, I was hoping some of the travellers 'ere might know."
All eyes shifted to the richly dressed plump man, who just preened at the attention.
"Well yes, I might know a little." The man said, his tone soft and simpering. "I do act on behalf of several generous patrons, and so was in King's Landing, when the whole sordid debacle unfurled. In fact, I remember it clearly, as I had just cut a pretty lucrative deal on some horse hide with this odious little Dornishman that stank of goat…."
Everyone at the table gave him unimpressed looks.
"Cretins," The moustachioed man sniffed. "But yes, it was indeed to do with the happenings at Court. Now, I don't know all the details, but what I do know is that there was a bit of a to-do outside of one of Lord Baelish's establishments. Now, fortunately, Lord Baelish is a dear friend of mine, and so I was able to learn quite a bit about what transpired…."
"Well?" Ben asked gruffly.
The merchant gave him the stinkeye but continued, nonetheless. "Yes well, apparently Lord Stark had been… frequenting a particularly upmarket pleasure house when he had a run-in with Ser Jamie Lannister. Angry words were exchanged when Ser Jamie questioned Lord Stark about why the Hand had ordered Ser Jamie's brother, Lord Tyrion Lannister arrested on the King's Road. From what I've heard since Lord Tyrion has been taken to the Eyrie to answer for his crimes after apparently being accused of the attempted murder of young Brandon Stark, Lord Stark's second son."
"More than possible," Ruby muttered, sharing a knowing look with Robin. "I've heard bad things about Tyrion Lannister. Apparently, he's the black sheep of the family, and a really nasty piece of work."
"Should that be the black lion on account of the Lannisters' being lions?" Robin asked in jest.
Ruby grinned at the jape.
Ignoring their byplay, Nico tuned back into what the merchant was saying as Lucan continued his questioning.
"And how does any of that bullshit, lead to the Mountain and his bandits marauding around the Riverlands burning villages?" Lucan asked irritably.
The older guard tried to hide a smile, as the preening merchant, looked affronted.
"You know, I don't see why I should continue telling you anything considering how rude you've been to me. Why, do you know who I am? I'm Matthias Redwall, son of Martin Redwall the owner of Worshipful Company of Cordwainers, and I have a lot of influence both in Storm's End and at King's Landing. Why even the King himself owns a pair of Redwall boots!" The now-named Matthias exploded, his oiled moustache quivering in indignation.
"Our apologies, I'm neither Lucan nor myself, nor any of the others at this table, knew just how esteemed our company was," Nico cut him smoothly, falling back on some of the 'bullshit weaving' skills he'd learned while acting as his father's emissary.
Matthias sniffed and fixed Lucan with a gimlet eye, before nodding. "Yes, well now you know. Now, as I was saying before I was rudely interrupted." He paused to scowl at the others. "Lady Catelyn Stark, formerly of House Tully, was the one who along with her bannermen, took Lord Tyrion captive. Which is why, after Lord Stark violently attacked Ser Jamie after being confronted outside a pleasure house over his corrupt abuse of power, the Mountain started raiding Tully's lands.?"
"Presumably under Tywin's orders?" Nico added.
Matthias paused and closed his mouth, his lips forming a tight line as he seemed to think for a moment. "I wouldn't know."
"Uh-huh," Nico hummed. "So, what happened in the end? Has the conflict been sorted or…."
"I'm afraid I don't know. I left the Capital soon after. Last I heard the Hand was sitting on the throne while the king went out on a Hunt and had accused the Mountain of treason and had ordered him arrested and demanded that Lord Tywin present himself to the Court to answer for the actions of his Bannerman." Matthias shrugged.
"I somehow doubt the old lion will do that," Ben muttered.
Lucan and several others nodded their agreement.
"I wouldn't worry, these things happen. The king will return from his Hunt, and sort all this mess out, and if not I'm sure the Small Council will prevail on Lord Start to be reasonable." Matthias said idly, dismissing any further concern.
Nico frowned in response. So far, he had managed to stay out of all the political shenanigans and backstabbing he sometimes heard about happening at King's Landing, and had instead been living in peace, far away from any trouble.
But after hearing a little about what was happening in King's Landing, and how it had an impact on the Riverlands several hundred miles away, it made him nervous.
Frowning, he pushed aside his concerns, and decided to hope, as Matthias had suggested, that it would all sort itself out.
He was done getting involved in shit that didn't concern him.
Taking another sip of his ale, a smile spread across his face as he heard the door to the tavern open and saw Pia, now in a new, nicer dress, enter.
"Oh my, she's a pretty one," Matthias muttered as he too looked up at Pia.
Next to the merchant, the blonde guardsman nodded, even as he gawped at Pia.
"Alas, I suspect she is spoken for," Lucan chuckled, with Ben, Robin and Ruby all nodding and laughing along, even as Pia waltzed over to their table and slipped into the seat next to Nico, a bright smile on her face as she idly grabbed his flagon and took a sip of his ale.
Matthias expressed curdled into something sour.
The guardsman meanwhile flushed red, as his older compatriot let out a bark of laughter.
"What did I miss?" Pia asked, guilelessly as she looked around the table.
( - )
AN: So yeah, this is going to be pretty different to the Last King, in that Nico isn't reborn, and isn't a member of the Royal family, or even the Nobility, but is instead a common farmer.
This won't be slice of life though, and there will be a distinct escalation, which for those that are caught up to where we are in Game of Thrones canon, and who know their stuff about what is happening, will be a bit self-evident.
As for Nico himself, he is retired at the moment and has hung up his sword, and is instead looking to lead a quiet peaceful life as a simple farmer. His knowledge of what is going on is limited to word of mouth, as he relies on the same methods the other commonfolk do.
So yeah, let me know what you think!
The story will have a mix of character-building, world-building, action, romance, extreme violence, fantasy, magic, and death, and should be epic in length.
As for the next update, that depends on interest, as I have a lot of stories and so tend to update according to a mix of personal preference and general reader interest.
But anyway, hope you enjoyed the first chapter, and please leave a review etc. If you have any questions or suggestions, please feel free to PM me.
Another thing while I am at it, is this. I am a part of a discord group, there are tons of others there, plenty of writers, admittedly mainly PJO, but other stuff too, including a growing number of other writers from different fandoms. Feel free to pop along and say hi, I'm always happy to chat about the stuff I am writing. So if you fancy it please do join by sticking this: discord .gg / elibrary into discord, with no spaces, or using the link on my bio.
Thanks for reading and please do leave a review, or feel free to PM me, I am usually much better at answering those!
See you later.
Greed720.