Chapter 31
Blinding Clash of Wind
Riverrun
Cid takes a long drag of his cigar, puffing out a small cloud of smoke "Ah, that's the stuff. You know, you come to miss the simple things when you must partake in battle time after time again. Just so hard to get a moments peace these days."
Brynden frowns, waving away the smoke "For a man who can turn into a God, I find your lack of professionalism concerning Cid."
"What? Can't a man enjoy his first moments rest in weeks?"
"Not when he has been here for hours doing nothing but resting while we await his report."
Cid could only shrug in response "Well when you put it like that…alright, what do you want to know?"
"What is our next move?" Bryden scowls, head jerking to the left towards some of the men loitering about "This lot have been getting lazy without any fighting to be done. I'd hate to be caught unprepared because they decided to nap rather than spar and keep busy."
"Well for starters…they'll be happy to know they have a king to fight for now."
"A king?" Brynden laughs "Robert Baratheon wants us to fight for him now, is it?"
"On the contrary, the rightful king of Westeros wants them to fight for him."
"Rightful king…you don't mean that we have now thrown our lot in with the Targaryen's!"
Cid shakes his head "No, no…well…not the ones across the sea in Essos."
"Explain Telamon."
"Tell me Brynden, what do you know of the rebellion and the tale of Lyanna Stark and Rhaegar Targaryen?"
As Cid told the truth of the rebellion to Brynden, the older knight's brow rose, a look of shock forming on his weathered face as he hung on to every word Cid had to spare. All the fighting they had done those many years before, all the time spent in service to a false king because of the madness of the last…and to think he had at one point agreed with his niece and his brother on the matter of Jon Snow and the shame he brought to their family.
"Oh…and if Joshua is right, which I really wish he wasn't, there might just be a royal wedding after this war is over." Cid sighs "And to think if I just put my bet the other way, I would be up a few hundred gold with Gav instead of broke with him."
"A king…"
"Hm?"
Brynden nearly stumbles as he collects his thoughts "Jon Snow…a Prince? A king!?"
"Oh, right…that detail." Cid turns his gaze to the cloudy sky above "Well for one thing he doesn't go by Jon Snow anymore, much rather prefers Clive Rosfield. For another…he isn't exactly thrilled about the prospect, but he knows its what is needed for the land once the fighting's done. You alright Brynden?"
"A moment Cid…this is…I cannot put it into words."
"A moment then," the man smiles "If only we had a moment to spare."
Brynden Tully watches in confusion as Cid walks off without him. The Blackfish, left alone with his thoughts, cannot help but let his mind wander off to his eldest niece and her words long ago on the Bastard of Winterfell. If what Cidolphus had said was true, then…what was coming for House Tully? "Oh Cat…what would you say were you here right now?"
As Cid made his way deep into the dungeons of Riverrun, his steps echoing in the stony corridor, he thought over his words with extra care. Colt would have explained plenty to Theon since his departure for Harrenhal. Perhaps more than even Cid would have to cover with the lad. But there was more to be discussed today. More at risk of being lost than just a dominant. As he reached the row of cells that required his attention the Dominant of Ramuh could hear the mutterings of their captured, their enemies. Lannister men grumbling to themselves, some muttering prayers as he passed them by. At the far end of the corridor, however, was his focus.
Colt sat on a wooden stool, hunched over as he kept a close eye on Theon Greyjoy. The younger man was still chained to the wall. He had hardly eaten what little food he had been given; it was a wonder he hadn't wasted away entirely. As Cid approached, the Rosarian stood up abruptly, back straight. "Lord Commander!"
"None of that Colt…funny, I knew a raven was sent for you personally, didn't think it would be announcing that particular title of mine." Cid muses with a roguish grin, hand cupping his chin as his eyes slowly shift over to Theon in his cell "And you…what are they feeding you lad? Practically skin and bones you are."
"Barely enough to keep him alive," Cid catches how Colt's fists clench as he speaks "Westerosi men are less than hospitable to a prisoner it seems if their name be Greyjoy."
"Well, I'm not surprised, even Clive has shown he has little love for them himself."
"I didn't do anything." Theon's voice is ragged from lack of use. He coughs, a dry sound as he licks his lips "I…I haven't done nothing to him or your people. I just…I didn't know they would do what they did."
"Oh, I know you didn't know anything lad," Cid shakes his head "Still…you are in quite the predicament here. Hated by the very men of the lands your people attacked. Hated by the one man whose decision carries more weight than my own…and yet you are also quite lucky."
There's a scoff from behind. Cid turns, brow raised, while an unkempt prisoner stares at him from his own cell. Hunched over, back against the wall and seated on the floor this man looks not like an intimidating fighter or a silver tongued noble. With his messy hair and scruffy beard growing from lack of grooming is Jaime Lannister. The once proud knight was reduced to a common prisoner.
"Something to say Lannister?"
"The Greyjoy is only lucky to still be alive and even that is not a mercy."
"Funny. From where I am standing it is you, Lannister, that should count himself in that predicament." Cid chuckles "If Lord Stark had it his way, you would face the block for your crimes in the rebellion all those years ago."
"Then why don't I?"
Colt shakes his head at Cid's glance but the former Lord Commander of Waloed heeds no mind to his attempt to dissuade him "You see Sir Jaime, you are called King slayer by those who pass you by. To your own face no less. And yet despite the honor of Lord Stark, despite the outrage he still feels for you on that day…you are here breathing. Why do you think that is?"
Jaime says nothing. He just stares straight at Cid as the man shakes his head.
"You, King slayer, might still yet serve a purpose if you just pay attention a little." Cid turns his attention back to Theon "As for you…now that I am here, and with my orders mind you, there will be some changes around here."
"Changes?" Theon's head barely moves, his body far too weak to afford wasting the energy "What kind of…changes?"
"More food for one. But we have a job to do…several in fact. Given your status, Theon Greyjoy, as the Dominant of Leviathan, you are to be trained in how to use your Eikon. More importantly, when you are able again, we are going to be on a mission for the King."
"Robert Baratheon?" Jaime laughs, loud and booming as a grin formed on his face "You Rosarians…you would act like loyal dogs for that fat pig of a king?"
"Not exactly," Cid says lightly "You see, we don't like him any more than you do to be quite honest. But our king has decided that we need to…adjust, if we are to end this war. Well…I say the king wants it, really, it's more like the queen does, as well as the archduke."
"I…I don't understand…what king? What queen?"
Colt spared Jaime an uneasy glance. Theon knowing the truth was one thing he could accept. But Jaime? This man…he couldn't stand for it. A hand reached for his blade should he need it, but Cid waved him off.
"Clive Rosfield," Cid starts "He spoke to you did he not? Told you how this war would end, and your fate was in your own hands. Tell me, Sir Jaime, have you thought of what he said to you before?"
"I…I have." Jaime admits, brow furrowed in thought "But even were something like that possible I…I have no way to…"
"You just might," Cid sighs "Clive Rosfield has a job for me and Theon. For you he has an offer, a chance…should you take it, for redemption. Jaime Lannister, consider this your trial of sorts."
"Trial?"
"Aye. You are accused of King Slaying by the people of the realms. Yet no one has asked you for your side…so, what happened, really."
Colt stood in silence, standing watch as he and Theon were the sole witnesses to the confession of Jaime Lannister. As every word escaped his lips, Jaime felt a weight be removed from his shoulders and as he spoke Cid just listened. It wouldn't matter to Jaime. In his mind the world had condemned him already and his fate was to either lose his head or go to the wall. But when Cid asked him questions, made his insinuations…it was like he was back at the tourney all those months ago. Fighting Clive Rosfield had reminded him of one person. One who he would gladly have died for should it be required, like his sworn brothers did. All but one had died for him, hadn't they?
Harrenhal
While Cid played his part as expected in Riverrun, things were moving along in Harrenhal as well as anyone could expect. The days without Cid were quiet, calm even, as the Lords of the North settled into heir new lot in life with a Targaryen King raised by nobility in a foreign land but with blood belonging to the First Men. To the Starks no less. None could claim to be accepting of the idea without difficulty. The people of the North were stubborn like that, set in their ways so heavily that just admitting Clive was Jon Snow took too much effort and even then…that was as good as it would get for a time. Roose Bolton accepted well enough with this new change to their hierarchy. Letters came to him from Tywin Lannister, letters he burned without a second thought as the mere idea of them would be enough to have his head in a basket or rolling across the ground if someone were to ever lay their eyes upon the contents.
Treason. Not something Roose would ever consider without good reason. Laying claim to Winterfell, being Warden of the North, and putting every Stark to the sword…that was more than enough reason to do it. But with the presence of these new players to the great game, things had changed dramatically enough. Roose could not betray the Starks, not now, not after all they had done for his people in return for loyalty that he himself did not fully believe in. With the last letter from the old lion burning up in the flames Roose let himself relax a little.
The moment, however, was broken by the sound of an alarm bell. Rising to his feet the Lord of the Dreadfort grabbed his longsword and stormed from his room with a scowl in place. If the enemy would dare to attack them here, then they would learn why that was a mistake. "House Bolton's time is here amidst the chaos," he mutters under his breath as he joins some of his own men on their way out into the yard, into the noise and the building chaos.
Ten minutes had passed since the first bell had rung. All anyone could hear was shouting of orders and complaints, the stomping of feet against the dirt and wood. Rex certainly wasn't going to complain as he walked along the castle walls. Men running about grabbing weapons and taking up their own positions, this was the life that he had grown accustomed to, that he had enjoyed so much during the war.
"So, what do we have to expect today then?" Rex crosses his arms, helmet on, his eyes peering out across the grassy hills to the west. Spying a lone shape in the distance. "A man? All of this for one…no."
The Rosarian Captain turned and ran. In these times, one man or woman was more of a threat than an army. And if his instincts were correct then this was one of those few who he should be most afraid of in battle. The men on the walls looked around in confusion as Rex ran past. That moment of confusion, that one singular pause was all they would have until the battles end. Rex heard it in the distance, a high-pitched shrieking cry growing louder and louder in its volume.
"Dragoons!" Rex shouts, the word breaking through the haze of noise and reaching Clive's ears like an arrow. "Bahamut!"
That final shout is punctuated by a mighty roar of both man and beast. One beast in particular, the mighty Lord of Light, Bahamut. A pillar of light rises from the ground as the mighty dragon takes to the skies, steel-green scales casting a dark omen in the skies as the men shout in fright over its appearance. Clive tightens his hold on Invictus as he feels Aether flare up around himself. Joshua and Jill run up the ramparts, finding a space between the men, and jump from the walls.
A cheer erupts as the Phoenix and Shiva take to the skies. Two Eikons to match the one. Clive knew they wouldn't be enough in a straight fight; he had heard the tales of Bahamut often enough to know that Dion Lesage was a dangerous foe that could keep up with Barnabas Tharmr and Odin. Not a foe to be taken lightly. "Eyes on the skies!" he shouts to the men as the shrieking cries resume with greater fervor "We are not out of this yet."
"Finally come to answer my call, Phoenix?" Bahamut roars, a challenge blatant as an imperial legion on the march.
"Bahamut…which means…" Shiva turned her head to the left, watching the Phoenix rise to meet the Lord of Light's challenge "Joshua!"
With a mighty shriek the Phoenix and Bahamut clash. Flaming wings ignite as claws dig into the mighty dragon's scales. Bahamut roars, a single flap of his own wings dislodging the bird from his body "I had heard you Rosarians were fierce, but never had I imagined one possessing the flames of the Phoenix to be so violent."
"Why are you here Dion!?"
Bahamut regards Phoenix as a snarl builds in his massive maw. "I am here on orders from the emperor himself, to aid our allies in their noble efforts to seat the proper king of this land on the throne."
"Proper king?" Shiva questions, floating besides Phoenix "He can't possibly mean…"
"Indeed. Joffrey Baratheon is the rightful king of these lands," Bahamut seemed to puff up as he spoke "As Prince of Sanbreque I have been tasked with seeing that he takes his proper place as king of the Seven Kingdoms in place of his father Robert Baratheon. More importantly…I am here to bring you both back in chains if I must, kill you if I cannot."
"But Joffrey isn't a Baratheon at all," Joshua speaks with a growing rage behind his words "He is a Waters, as the land dictates he be. A bastard born of incest, not of the royal line. And even were he to have been born of King Robert not even he is truly the rightful king of these lands. That right belongs to the Dragons."
"Targaryen's." The word is uttered with such disdain and venom it makes Shiva recoil "I have heard what these dragons of Westeros have brought upon this land. If you seek to put them on the throne of this land…then I will bring you to face justice for such a desire."
"Watch the skies!"
Cody rolls, narrowly avoiding a swooping Aevis as its rider dismounts and lands in the courtyard. Dragoons. Imperial Dragoons had blindsided them. Knights wearing Imperial Steel armor dropped on the walls from above, cutting down men with ease as they slowly took control. Westerosi blades were too soft for their armor. The few knights they had in full plate far too slow to counter any of the Empire's best men.
"Stand and fight!" Cody shouts, blade clashing with an imperial lance "Imperial scum!"
"Rosarian dog!" the dragoon snarls, forcing the knight back and twirling his lance into a ready position for another strike "I have orders to execute you for treason to your emperor."
"I serve no emperor," Cody says, blade back up, shield raised "As a knight of Rosaria, I serve the Archduke and no one else but he!"
"Then I shall have to bring him in chains to His Holiness, once I am done making an example of you."
The Dragoon charges, lance extending forward in a thrust. Cody brings up his shield, just barely able to knock the weapon off course as he stumbles back. He could see more dragoons dropping in the courtyard. He could hear men screaming as the aevis mounts of the imperial knights tore into them. With a defiant roar he swung his blade, just missing his foe as he jumped high into the air.
Cody's head slowly rose, eyes wide as he stared up at the armored visage of the dragoon as he was poised to drop down upon him. "Say goodbye, Rosarian!"
As the dragoon came back down Cody stood defiant with his shield raised. Just before impact, with his body perhaps ten feet off the ground, the dragoon's body was snatched by a pair of ethereal green talons and thrown across the courtyard into the stone wall of Harrenhal. Clive did not give his enemy time to recover. As the man stood upon shaking legs a ball of fire engulfed his body, burning him alive.
"Who's next?" came the deep growl of the First Shield as his eyes took in the chaos of the battle "Cody! Still with us old man?"
"If this is how you treated Gregor…no wonder he gave us such a hard time," the knight groans "I'm fine, but we wont be if this keeps up much longer."
"Don't worry, I have a plan."
"One that doesn't involve us all dying I hope?"
Clive smirks, his left arm lashing out towards a flying aevis. His fingers clench, talons grab onto the beast as he drags his arm to the side and slams the imperial mount into a tower. "It might not be as elegant as Garuda's own skill, but it gets the job done."
"That it does," Cody's gaze goes to the ramparts "Clive…Rex!"
The Dominant of Ifrit scowls, seeing the situation the captain was in. Armed with his axes, fighting off two dragoons at once. "Don't worry, I'll save him."
Clive reaches out, talon grasping onto the side of the wall, and pulls himself up. His intervention distracts one of the dragoons, the other still focusing on Rex himself. The dragoon swung low, Clive jumping back to avoid the tip of his lance, before readying himself for another attack.
"Branded!" the knight snarls, grip tightening around his weapon "You should have stayed in whatever hole you had found where you belonged. Death is all that awaits your kind, traitor!"
Clive scowls, a phantom feeling of his branding searing into his flesh again "I am no traitor, and I might bear the brand, but I am no Branded!"
The dragoon swings his lance up, deflecting a strike from Invictus. The knight ducks just in time to avoid a fireball. Before Clive could bring his blade back down on the knight's head he thrust his lance forward, the tip just managing to only scratch the First Shield's chest drawing a faint bit of blood before he stepped back. Clive's sword arm however was as strong and able as ever. Invictus came back, cloaked in fire, and cut clean through that imperial lance. As the dragoon stumbles back in shock, that momentary pause for his eyes to glance at the remains of his weapon, Clive lunged forward and drove his sword into the man's chest.
"Took you long enough!" Rex shouts over the sound of battle around them, pulling an axe free from his own foe's neck "Thought Cody and I taught you to be quicker than that? Must be getting lazy, all this time away from us."
"Hardly the time for this Rex."
High above the fighting, Aether filling the air around them, three eikons clashed. Fire, Light, and Ice. Three titans clashing, shaking the skies and unsettling even the ravenous beasts now descending upon the northerners defending Harrenhal. With a single flap of his wings Bahamut unleashes rays of light upon his foes. With a raised hand Shiva creates a wall of ice for protection for herself. And the Phoenix with its flames surrounds itself in a shield of fire. All three were in their element but without the strength to overpower each other, they were in a stalemate.
Dion Lesage knew deep down that he could knock both Phoenix and Shiva out with little effort, the only problem was himself. His heart wasn't in the fight even if his orders were just. He could not bring himself to be swift. Something about this place, about Westeros, had felt strange to him ever since his arrival. It was as if it had a hold over him, he could not shake this feeling that kept him preoccupied nor could he identify its source. Even as the Phoenix cried out and fired its own volley at him, Bahamut would not yield, nor would it finish its foe.
"Any more delays Phoenix, and I will grow quite bored of you," Dion taunts "Surrender, lest I show you the might of Bahamut."
Shiva rolls her eyes as Bahamut speaks. Men, always eager to speak and boast but never to make things simple. A red flaming streak moves past the Ice Goddess. Phoenix shrieking as it collides with Bahamut at full speed. "Joshua!"
As she moves to assist, Bahamut flaps his wings once again and batters her with a barrage of light. The attacks only disorient her, but they do the job of keeping her at bay quite well. Dion scowls, flipping his body over and shoving the Phoenix off. Another wingbeat, more rays of light rain down striking the Phoenix and the ground below. Jill watched as some of the rays diverged, striking closer to Harrenhal and the village at its gate. Harrenton would not survive too many strikes like that; Shiva closes her eyes, slowly a plan forming as the Eikon of Ice races to the town's defense. A shield of ice forming just in time to stop a ray of light. The explosion itself dispelled so much Aether in a cloud that many miss the transition from Eikon to Dominant as Jill hits the ground.
"That's not good…Clive!"
Cody's call brought Clive's attention to the sky. Witnessing the Phoenix as it fell out of the air, pummeled by Bahamut's attack, and Shiva racing towards the village. The Fire within roared as it flickered to life around his arms and shoulders, draping itself around Clive almost like a cloak but not fully realized yet. "Jill!"
Clive lashes out with his left arm, Garuda's talons grasping onto an aevis as it flew past towards the village. His body dangling in the air, feet kicking men just beneath him in the head, even pushing off a dragoon's helmet as he is dragged through the air. The aevis goes in for a landing, dislodging Clive in the dirt of the main road up to the castle.
"Bloody beast," he grumbles as he rises to his feet. Down by the square he can see her, Jill, with her weapon drawn and surrounded by a small group of dragoons. "Jill!"
"Get the fetters!" one of the dragoon's shouts. A pair moved in, ready to disarm her if need be "Today we take Shiva's Dominant for his Holiness."
Clive snarled, body moving as fast as it could. The very moment his foot was off the ground his world was engulfed in fire. One dragoon found himself falling with Rosarian steel buried in his back and a wild looking Clive glaring at his compatriots. Seven dragoons left, that was all Clive saw as he drew his blade free from his first victim.
"No one…no one will put…a hand on her!" Invictus ignites causing the dragoons to tense up.
"A Branded," the lead dragoon says, eyes focusing on the mark in question "Kill him, then we bring the woman back in chains. Go on lads!"
Two dragoons moved to flank Clive, two more joined from the front with their lances at the ready. Four knights for the Dominant of Ifrit. "I should warn you…you will need more men…if you want to take me!" an aethereal talon grabs onto the far-left dragoon, crushing his body in its grasp and flinging him up into the air sharply. The one on the right moves in, his lance cut down to size by a flaming blade. Before the dragoon can recover, he is grabbed by a talon and dragged across the ground, body flung without a care into a building buried beneath the stonework.
The two remaining dragoons charge, both unprepared for the harsh winds that come. Clive smiles as a pair of claws form parallel to his own arms. With Invictus sheathed he swings his arms, claws ripping into the dragoons, tearing through armor and flesh with brutal efficiency. One dragoon drops as a swing shred through his torso. The other manages to still stand, blood flowing from his wounds like a river, his head rises to look Clive in the eye before the first dragoon finally comes back down to earth.
Clive growls as his eyes move from the pile those two men made in death to their leader. Four dragoons were dead, only three stood between him and her. "You're next."
"Not bad for a Branded, but you are not an ordinary one, are you?" The dragoon readies his lance "Control of fire like that is practically unheard of for a Bearer, and if I wasn't mistaken that was wind magic just now as well. Perhaps you are worth taking back whole then."
"Over my dead body," Clive draws his blade "I've allowed you far too much time and mercy Imperial."
"Is that so?"
The two readied themselves for battle. A thud breaks the standoff. Off to the side the two dragoons meant to be putting Jill in chains are dead in the mud. A large figure, a knight judging by the armor, standing over them with a freshly bloodied sword in hand. Clive chuckles as he sees the way they stand protectively between the dragoon and Jill. "It seems that this is the moment you offer your surrender to me."
The captain tightens his grip on his lance "Never!" he shouts, leaping into the air and diving right for Clive.
Clive dodges forward, avoiding the impact as the dragoon comes back down. He grips Invictus tightly in his right hand, blade igniting and as his body stops spinning, he lunges forward driving it through his opponent's back. "Good answer."
As the final body drops, he turns his attention to the newcomer. Jill sighs from her position on the ground, slowly rising to her feet as she watches both of her protectors square off. "Clive…it's alright, honest, there is no need for this."
Reluctantly he lowers his weapon though his eyes never leave the new knight "What's your name? The least you owe us is the identity of the one who has helped with these men."
The knight is tall, about as tall as Goetz if Clive were to guess, in better shape than most westerosi knights who have grown fat from the tourneys and lack of wars to fight. The hair atop their head is brittle, straw-like in Clive's less than flattering opinion. But there is something about their face that is peculiar to Clive.
"Brienne." They say, "Brienne of Tarth, former knight in King Renly Baratheon's Rainbow Guard."
"A kingsguard…for Renly?" Clive gives the now named Brienne a second look "You certainly are built like a knight…could probably give Wrecker a good run for his money. Why have you come here? Why now?"
"Is this really the time?" Jill asks with a tired sigh "There are still the Imperials to worry about Clive."
Clive doesn't heed her any mind. Something is soothing him, that fire that rages within himself is calmer than usual. Even with an invading army at their gates, Bahamut in the skies, he can't bring himself to care too much for the battle.
Bahamut roars high above the clouds as aether gathers around its body. Joshua could feel it in the air. It was so thick, like a fog of it building up while Bahamut charged its next attack. He was tired, the endless fighting finally catching up to the young Archduke as his human body began to affect his Eikonic form. Two Ifrit's back-to-back with little rest since then would do that to anyone.
"Now, say goodbye Phoenix!"
Joshua did his best to put up a shield, not his greatest work in his own opinion but it was all he had the strength for as it flickered to life around his body. Just as Bahamut had its attack charged something slammed into it from the side, the attack going off course and narrowly missing the Phoenix.
"You…"
Dion growls, blue eyes narrowed on the feathered form before him "Garuda!"
The feathered Eikon of Wind flashes a toothy smirk at the dragon "I'm sorry, am I interrupting your big moment, Prince Dion?"
AN: I want to first say that I appreciate the well wishes, both on FanFiction and on AO3. Second, I want to apologize for this chapter just in case it seems a bit rushed to anybody else towards the end there. Which brings us to points 3 and 4…point 3 is that my mother is out of the hospital, that happened the same week she was put in and there have been no problems since she came back. Point 4 is…well point 4 is more complicated to get into.
Put simply, I have been threatened by my older brother with physical assault. I have spoken to friends, one of whom is a police officer, and they have unanimously told me to call the police. I did not. Why? Because my situation is that of an individual who is the only one taking care of my elderly mother and as my family for the majority of them have intimated to me if it came down to it, they would rather I was a statistic for domestic violence gone wrong rather than safe. I wont go into the details, the specifics, but I will say that it was bad enough that everyone who was in support of the police being involved feels that I am at risk…reassuring that mostly 'strangers' care more than family do.
In the event that things do take a turn for the worse…I am sorry this is where the story ends, or that wherever it ends is where it does before I can actually complete it. If you are still reading this and you are a victim or fear you may just become a victim of assault from anyone I would implore you to seek help and protection before it gets any more out of hand. A stranger can throw a punch, you defend yourself and do whatever it takes to survive. You shouldn't have to fear family, you shouldn't have to fear a partner…but sadly Life is not a perfect place to be. If you know someone who has been a victim or you suspect they will be one, speak up to them. Do what you can to help but understand not everyone will want to speak due to fear or the abuse they suffered.
With the serious talk out of the way: This version of Prince Dion is not 100% like the canon; we'll get into the effects of his new family members on him at a later time for in depth talk, but suffice to say he is a bit more proud and boastful, if only due to influences being changed somewhat as well as this being Dion before we actually meet him in 16's timeline, that being before the second timeskip to Clive's 30's. As for Brienne it was always my intention for this to be the place that she would return to our story at. I did not forget about her, I just had to decide whether or not it would be in glory of battle or in calm of a peaceful day. And Benedikta…some of you wont like the next few chapters, if only because we are going on a little field trip soon. Which means our regular cast will be changing up for a time. Don't worry, no one is dead…yet. Now, let's get to the reviews, shall we?
Guest: Implications…oohh boy there are plenty of those. If you are confused, suggest re-reading chapters involving R'hllor as those are where the details are most likely to be hiding. I'd provide the specific ones but don't have the list in front of me at the moment of writing this.
Drakon45: Not sure what his excuse is, but props to the reject santa claus for threatening to sue Fanfiction writers of his work…can't sue us all and still hope to sell to a large number of fans.
Jebest4781: Couldn't keep the other pieces from falling into place forever. Course, with how this one goes…starting to wonder if I have enough room for this puzzle of a story.
Goonies117: Oh, he is most certainly…not. And I wouldn't say clone, just because it is more like a copy. No DNA period, but it is his likeness, his memories, his abilities at that age. Though this would certainly throw a few wrenches into some plans across the land. But enough about that.
Prinzjay1998: You are welcome for the update
