The Narrow Sea, 300 AC
Tyrion
.
The blue-haired man, whose name was Griff, read from the parchment. Tyrion had been summoned to his cabin for reasons he did not know. They had departed Pentos a few days ago, and the wind was in their favor. The Shy Maid had stayed close to the coast for some time before heading out straight into the open sea.
"Has Illyrio taken leave of his wits?" he said after reading. "He sends a Lannister to us?"
"I would say that the fat fuck never had any wits to begin with." Tyrion replied. "Only someone like that would approve of this, but I think the dragon queen would be pleased to see me."
"Targaryens and Lannisters have bad blood, dwarf, in case you have forgotten. You will not live long if she finds out who you are."
"What I am is the greatest killer of Lannisters who ever lived." Tyrion quipped. "I killed my lady mother, Joanna Lannister when I came into this world. I killed my lord father, Tywin Lannister as he sat on his privy, and I assure you that all the tales about him are false. He did not shit gold. He was the reason why Daenerys Targaryen had to flee and live like a beggar for most of her life. The people of Westeros accuse me of killing my nephew Joffrey as well, another Lannister, and I have decided to let them say that. You see, ser, the odds are in my favor."
"Another fool who likes hearing the sound of his own voice." Griff was irritated.
"Am I starting to make sense?" he asked. "I have already done the queen a great service, and should she decide to sail for the Seven Kingdoms, I will gladly help her take the heads of my brother and sister. That brings me to my next question- what exactly are you delivering to her? I see nothing of value, except a reject of the Citadel, a shrivelled up old septa and your boy."
"That is not your concern, dwarf." Griff was angered. "I trust Illyrio, so I will put up with you for the rest of the journey."
Tyrion changed the subject. "Where will we stop next?"
"Tyrosh and Lys, but just for buying provisions. Now leave!"
The cunt was not much for conversation, Tyrion thought. No worries, he would find someone else. Luckily, there was a sailor who seemed to have some charm, like Yoren of the Night's Watch. It took a while and a few drinks to make him talk.
"What do you intend to do about the pirates in the Stepstones?" he asked the sailor.
"Yandry knows what to do. We wanted to travel the Rhoyne, but it is not safe anymore, with all the cities with slaves joining the dragon queen's war. The fat merchant gave him this ship. He has a smaller one for the rivers, also called Shy Maid."
"What do you think of the dragon queen?"
"She sure has inspired the whores of the Free Cities." the sailor laughed. "Just some days ago I saw girls with silver wigs in the pleasure houses."
Perhaps not the right man to ask.
The days were long, and the company was not exciting. Tyrion found relief when the port of Tyrosh came into view, and he had something to look forward to at last. The city was like a fortress and looked intimidating to visitors. That was fine, Tyrion thought, for the city had been made for exactly that purpose. The Valyrians had taken every piece of land they could get their hands on, creating posts for their armies. After their end, the merchants took over and turned an ugly keep into a city. Why the Valyrians never ventured into Westeros before the Targaryens, no one knew.
Shy Maid docked. The port was bustling with activity and was much cleaner than the one in King's Landing. The city might not be appealing, but at the very least it did not smell like shit.
"Try not to go far, dwarf." Griff was stern.
"I suppose I cannot do that with my small legs." Tyrion japed as he covered his head.
While the others attended to their business in the markets, the sailor from before, called Mykel, would accompany him. They entered the city through the gate at the ugly black walls, paying a small toll to a guard. The Tyroshi are considered a queer lot by those in Westeros, and traversing the streets of the city, he quickly came to know why. Their robes and hats were more flamboyant than even the nobles in the Reach, and they dyed their hair in unnatural shades. A city of mummers and freaks. I ought to fit right in. Perhaps it was how the residents compensated for the unwelcoming feel of their city.
Nearby, he heard the voice of a woman speaking Valyrian. He knew the tongue, courtesy of his curiosity with dragons. As it happens, he made out a few words that sounded like prince and Daenerys.
"I want to go over there." he told Mykel. The voice came somewhere inside a building. It had the symbol of a flaming heart, one which he had seen in Stannis Baratheon's sigil at the battle of Blackwater. The heart of the Red God.
"That temple? I did not take you for the religious sort."
"I will go alone then." Tyrion said and went inside the building. The guards took a look at him but let him enter. The building was filled with men and women wearing shabby clothes, with markings on their faces. Slaves. The woman he heard was wearing red robes and preaching to the crowd.
"…Daenerys Targaryen is the prince who was promised. She will remake the word in fire and will set you free from your chains. Have patience, brothers and sisters. Your freedom will come…" was what Tyrion could make out. Why was the faith supporting Daenerys Targaryen?
"Come, look at this." Mykel entered and urged him to leave.
"What?" Tyrion asked, but then he noticed some commotion in the streets. There was a crowd gathered in the marketplace.
"…Tidings from the east!" said a herald. "Yunkai has fallen! The Dragon Whore has bewitched the slaves with witchcraft and taken the city! The masters have fled to Meereen…!"
"…all able-bodied men are hereby called to arms. We must protect our interests from the witch…"
"That girl works fast." Tyrion japed.
.
The Lands of Always Winter, 300 AC
Bran
.
"Run!" a woman screamed as a village burnt. Bran did not know where this place was, as it looked very different from the earlier visions. The village was being attacked by a group of men resembling soldiers, who rode horses and threw torches at every hut. The woman did not speak the common tongue, but somehow Bran understood her words. This time, he was in the memories of a different boy, not Arthur.
The boy ran as fast as he could, amid the sounds of thunder in the air, and hid behind a tree. Bran saw that the soldiers had metal clubs in their hands, but they aimed them like crossbows, shooting fire. The boy looked over from the hiding spot and his mother was now being dragged away by a soldier, who pulled her by her hair, and then put her on a carriage.
"Charlie!" yelled a man in the common tongue. He came running towards him "Let's get outta here." and picked him up.
"Mother!" the boy was shouting in that strange language and tried to get off the man, but he was not strong enough. The screams of the people burning could still be heard in the distance.
.
'Why do I keep seeing the lives of these people from another world?" Bran asked.
"Perhaps there is something you have to know." Brynden said. "The gods have not done this for nothing." Just as he finished speaking, the ground started to shake. It started slowly at first, but the tremors became more violent by the moment and then stopped. All the Children came out of their places and gathered where he was, chanting something in the old tongue. Meera, Summer and Hodor came in as well. The entrance to the cave was closed as the tremors grew.
"Alas, the realms of men have a short memory." said the three-eyed raven.
"What is it?"
"See for yourself." Bran was getting tired of the way he refused to speak. He touched the tree.
.
"Lord Commander!" a boy entered the room. "We found a wildling. He says he knows about your uncle Benjen."
Uncle Benjen? Whose memory is it? Bran looked around and found Jon, overjoyed to see his brother again. He had gained some scars and looked much different than the last time Bran had saw him.
"Is he certain?" Jon asked.
"He says he was First Ranger."
Not waiting another moment, Jon darted out of his quarters. On the way, an old man joined him.
"Could he by lying?" Jon asked him.
"Possible. Best hear what he has to say first."
The brothers of the Night's Watch, which Bran recognised, were standing in a circle. They made way for Jon but there was no wildling at the end. There was a sign.
Traitor.
Jon turned around, and the old man from before plunged a dagger in his belly.
"For the Watch." he said.
"NO!" Bran rushed forward, but no one could see him.
"For the Watch." another man said as he did the same, plunging his knife into his chest.
"JON!" Bran tried to reach out to him, but everything failed. The men took turns, saying the same words every time. In the end, the boy came forward. Bran could see hate and reluctance in his eyes.
"Olly!" Jon managed to speal, just barely.
"For the Watch." Olly said and struck the killing blow. Jon fell, blood rushing out of his wounds. Bran tried to put his hands on them to stop the flow, but nothing was working. His brother spoke his last word. "Ghost."
"What the fuck have you done?" a man shouted in the distance. There were many more with him. "Traitors!" they all pulled out their swords. As they fought among themselves, Bran stood by his brother's side. Why were the gods so cruel, to take everything away from him?
"The pact has been broken." Brynden had entered his vision again.
"What pact?"
"Come with me."
Bran did not want to leave Jon, but there was nothing he could do. The three eyed raven took him outside the castle's walls. The brothers of the Night's Watch had stopped fighting.
"The Wall was built by your ancestor Brandon the Builder, to protect the realms of men from the Others. He did so by using blood magic. The structure will keep standing as long as the Starks and the Night's Watch keep to their oaths."
Bran heard a loud wailing, a sound coming from the wall. Moments later, cracks began to show on the icy structure and a large chunk fell on the castle, crushing it.
"The Wall will stand as long as the Starks and the Night's Watch stay in their place. The magic will not let the Others enter the realms of men."
"There must always be a Stark in Winterfell." Bran remembered what Robb told him the day he left for war. He never returned.
"Yes." said the three eyed raven. "There has been no Stark in Winterfell for a long time, and the brothers of the Night's Watch broke their oaths when they rose up in mutiny. They shed the blood of a Stark on the Wall- your brother's blood. The weakness of men gives strength to the Others, and now they can cross. Your people are not prepared for this. They have wasted precious years."
The Wall was breaking apart, piece by piece. It wailed as it did so, as if it was a living and breathing thing.
"Everyone is doomed."
"Yes, it will be like the Doom of Valyria, only it will end in ice."
"Is there nothing to be done?"
"There is. To be the three eyed raven is to hold the entire memory of the world. The Others will take that away, and there will be nothing left but darkness and the night. That is why you must learn everything. Learn and go."
"Where?"
"There is still hope that your people will survive. The events are in motion as we speak, I can see it. History will repeat itself once again."
.
The Narrow Sea, 300 AC
Jon
.
The Titan of Braavos towered over the hills. The tales of the statue did not do it justice at all. It wielded a sword, as if ready to cut down any intruder that attacked his city. Their small ship, commandeered by Ser Davos, entered the lagoon, while the others stayed outside. The Titan roared.
"Now the city knows we are here." said the Onion Knight. "Best get used to it."
"How the fuck did they build that?" Tormund was amazed.
"Wait till you see the city then."
This was the first time Jon had been out of the North, and the first time the freefolk had been out of Westeros. The city in front of them was a marvel on water, with its many canals and bridges. They passed through the Arsenal, which was reputed to create a galley in a single day and could house the entire fleet of the city. Jon had read that it was built on a hundred islands, and one had to traverse the city with small boats, for it had more canals than streets.
As they stopped at the port, there were a few men waiting for them. Jon had sent word out to the city, requesting an audience with the Sealord.
"Are you Jon Snow, Lord Commander of the Night's Watch?" the man asked in common tongue, with a thick accent.
"That is so." said Jon.
"Follow us. The Sealord is expecting you."
Jon took Edd with him. Ser Davos said he had history with the Sealord and his presence would not be appreciated. The port was connected to the marketplace, where men were being measured and given swords and shields. The heralds were announcing something in the Braavosi tongue.
"What is he saying?" Jon asked his escort.
"Queen Daenerys has taken Yunkai and freed the slaves. All able-bodied men are being asked to volunteer in the war."
"But last I heard that she was in Qarth."
"She has dragons and powerful weapons. Astapor and Yunkai fell easily, only Meereen and Volantis remain, but gods willing, they will fall as well."
They do not know what is coming. Jon and his companions were put on a boat. From there, they passed through the small canals of the island before reaching the largest of them all. The buildings they saw were made of stone and marble, and there was not a single tree in sight. People went by their tasks, merchants set up shops near the various quays and the beggars held out bowls, asking for alms. Their boat reached a castle at the very end of the island. That must be the Sealord's Palace, he thought.
When they disembarked, a larger group of guards took them inside the palace, taking their weapons. Jon reluctantly gave them Longclaw, his most valuable possession. Brienne of Tarth had a Valyrian steel sword as well, with a gold lion pommel. Jon had been told that she was tasked with bringing Jaime Lannister to King's Landing, on the orders of Lady Catelyn, but Sansa had assured him that she was not loyal to the Lannisters. He took her word for it, but still did not rest easy.
The Sealord of Braavos, Ferrego Antaryon as he had heard, was a frail old man in declining health, yet he could still speak properly. He was with his advisors.
"Welcome, Lord Commander Jon Snow. I received your message."
"It is an honor, my lord."
"A pleasure. Please, sit." The Sealord said. "Your message brought the most shocking tale that I have ever heard, which was why I gave you this audience. I have already heard of what has transpired at the Wall. Our merchants often visit Eastwatch and bring tidings, but to hear it from the Lord Commander himself confirmed all suspicions. What I do not know is how such a thing occurred."
"My lord, are you familiar with the tales of the Others?" Jon asked. The council of the Sealord went quiet at the mention.
"Dragons, witchcraft, fire weapons and now the Others." muttered the old man. "Are you saying that the legends of old had a hand in this?"
"I have seen them with my own eyes, my lord, and I assure you that they are coming. The sailors in the Baratheon fleet have seen them as well."
"Is that why you brought a thousand people in your ships?"
"I had no choice. The Watch sent ravens to every lord in the Seven Kingdoms, telling them on the Wall's fate. We brought every single man and woman that we could."
"Now you have the problem of where to go." the man asked. "And that brings you to Braavos."
"That is correct, My lord."
"Give us a moment." The Sealord said and retreated to his solar with his advisors. His servants carried him.
"Do you think he believes you?" Edd asked.
"I just want him to give us a place where we can stay out of harm." Soon the Sealord returned.
"Lord Commander, though we do not believe in the tales of the Others, we have decided to take your warning under consideration and recall our merchants immediately." he declared. "As for your thousand people, I am afraid we do not have the space to house them in our city, but we have some advice."
"What kind of advice?"
"As you might be aware, The Dragon Queen's war might soon involve all of Essos. How many healthy men do you have?"
"Are you asking us to fight?"
"For now I am asking how many men you have." the Sealord insisted.
Jon took a moment to remember. "Half of the freefolk, the wildlings we rescued are capable warriors, men and women alike."
"That is settled then. Sail with our fleet and go to the dragon queen as her allies. She has enough land where your people can live."
"Would she be willing to receive aid from Baratheons and a bastard of the Starks?"
"By all means, keep your identity a secret. We can provide you with food, as a sign of good faith. Do you agree?"
"It seems like I have no choice, my lord."
The meeting went a bit different than what Jon has expected, but they had a destination now. Edd however was not in agreement.
"Are you sure of this Jon?" he asked.
"You know it as well as I do, that we cannot step foot in Westeros again."
"We took vows…"
"Yes, and we broke them nevertheless. You saw what they did to me, even when they knew I was right."
"So we just leave those people to their fate?"
"Take a ship home if you must, but I will stay here. The Watch takes no part in the affairs of the realm. We did our duty and now we must save ourselves…"
They heard the voice of a girl screaming and falling into the water. It sounded familiar to Jon.
"What the fuck was that?"
"It came from over there."
The two men ran towards the canal and looked down. The water was filled with some blood and a girl was on the stairs of the quay. Jon went down towards her as she struggled to get up. There was blood everywhere.
"Here, take this…" he went towards her, and the girl looked at him. Jon paled. She was the last person he ever expected to see in this part of the world.
"Arya?"
"Jon?" she said, her voice low. "Jon!" then she fainted.
"EDD! Come over here!" he yelled at his companion. Arya had been stabbed in the belly, only one wound it looked like. Jon tore part of his cloak off and wrapped it around the wound, trying to stop the bleeding. He then picked her up and ran as fast as he could, towards their ship.
.
Mole's Town, 300 AC
.
Smalljon Umber, the new lord of Last Hearth, had led a party of five hundred men towards Castle Black. The Stark bastard had sent a raven to all the lords, telling them that the Wall has fallen. As if anyone would believe this obvious lie. He was a traitor who let the wildlings through the gates and sheltered the Baratheon pretender. It was the Umbers who would have to pay if the savages invaded their lands.
He had taken this up with the new Bolton cunt, when he learned that Jon Snow had been sheltering the Stark girl as well. It was good enough for both parties to launch an assault and end the threat once and for all. Smalljon was eager for the opportunity to kill the savages.
It was night and they had made camp in Mole's Town. It had been abandoned ever since the wildlings and their King tried to get past the Wall. The buildings were burnt and torn down, and the smell was unbearable. They had sent two men to scout ahead the day before, but they had not returned yet.
Smalljon tried to sleep, but something woke him up. He could hear the sound of people marching. Did the Boltons arrive?
"What is it?" he asked a soldier.
"We do not know m'lord." the man answered. "It is coming from up ahead."
"Ahead?" the sound was growing louder. "Wildlings!" Smalljon realised. "Men! Get ready!"
The savages wanted to ambush them. Well, the northmen are not so easily defeated.
"M'lord!" a man came running in. "There are thousands of them."
Thousands? He looked ahead into the darkness and saw nothing, but the voices were still there. He could also hear screeching sounds, ones that he had not heard before. They were getting closer and closer, and then he saw it.
The force attacking them was much larger than he had thought. There seemed to be no end to them in sight. The moon was shrouded by the clouds, and they were now completely in the dark.
"Fall back…" was all he said before a horde descended on him.
.