Hello everyone, I do hope all of you are enjoying this Friday and that this weekend would be nice for all of you! I've gotten a bit sick, but I am alright, just cold. Thankfully, not Covid. Now, please be ready for the next two updates! They are going to be as long as this one. 10K words for all of you to rejoice.
Update-
-The White Lion of the Red Keep (Two more Chapters)
-Boku No Overlord (One chapter or two)
See you all later!
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Chapter 22
The whole battle of the Kingswood might be summed up by the thud of raindrops striking the ground, echoing off the leaves of the tall pine trees, and the squish of boots in the mud as soldiers ran rapidly from one area to another. They were freezing and soaked. Very disheartening and exhausting. Some warriors in the Reach and Stormlands haven't seen the sun in weeks, and there's little sign of that changing any time soon. Yet the worst part of the war was that their enemy seemed to be taking advantage of it.
From the Reach, a small number of troops cautiously scouted a route for the larger force. Dozens of cut and collapsed trees blocked all of the remaining roads going to King's Landing, and the flooded rivers and heavy mud made the remaining roadways inaccessible. Nature was winning the battle against Renly's massive army. However, one must ask if it was truly natural and not something else. Yet, for those poor souls deep inside the forest, it didn't matter; they just wanted to get out of the dammed Kingswood as soon as possible.
"I have water in my boots," one of the soldiers muttered as he leaned on a large boulder, trying to take his boot out and let the fluid out.
"Hey, what are you doing?" One of the soldiers asked.
"You don't see? I am trying to clean my boots. I can't walk with them filled with water," the soldier replied, almost insulted.
"Well, yeah, just like everyone else. Stand up; we aren't stopping here. It's dangerous."
"I ain't moving with water on my boots," the soldier stated again, with a challenging tone. He, like many others, was sick and tired of being stuck there. But more importantly, they were tired of being hunted down by their enemies as if they were nothing but pigs for slaughter. Adding to this was the fact that a horrible sickness has appeared inside the army camp—a horrible sort of cold with high fever and vomiting. Many soldiers were thinking of deserting already. It wasn't worth it, nor do they see a victory in sight.
"I said move," the commander of that troop demanded, as now the soldier simply sneered at him.
"Make me," he replied to his commander, and suddenly an arrow struck him right in the forehead. The Queen's forces quickly ambushed the soldiers of the Reach after hearing a loud horn. It wasn't a battle, but a massacre. Mya's archery skill allowed her to simply shoot down so many soldiers with quick motions. One after another, they fell to the ground, with arrows sticking out of their necks or heads. But those who weren't so lucky as to be killed in such a way were now the focus of the incredible and battle-hardened soldiers loyal to the Queen, who were commanded by Gendry.
Gendry, just like many others, had no time to hear their screams or cries for mercy. No, they had a job, which was to kill and nothing else.
Before Gendry's warhammer crushed his head, one soldier cried out on his knees. "Please, mercy, my lord!" The sound of a breaking skull truly echoed in the forest.
"No, for the gods' pleas-" Mya wasn't so different; she used her dagger to simply cut the throat of another poor Reach soldier.
The rest of the soldiers under their command have become quite cold towards human life. They were soldiers, and it was expected of them to not hesitate from their duty, but the way they just killed them. It was incredibly chilly. They didn't even speak a word in all of that skirmish. They just looked around and made sure to put out of their misery those who were still breathing.
"Check if they had any letters; we may know where Renly is going," Gendry stated as he began to clean his warhammer.
"They are getting closer to King's Landing," Mya said as she began to pick her arrows from the dead bodies.
"Aye, we have done what we can, but it was inevitable."
Gendry muttered while glancing at his side, where Ser Davos appeared, cleaning his sword but truly showing his age as he panted heavily.
"Ser Davos, is everything alright?"
Ser Davos just waved his hand off in a tired way. "I was never a fighter," he replied.
"You still do good for an old man," Gendry teased playfully, as Ser Davos simply sighed. He wasn't that old, but he was too tired to fight the statement. Soon, a rider arrived to greet the group. One of their scouts, or so it would seem. Since his face seemed covered by his cloak. Gendry and Mya had to admit that it was quite perplexing how sometimes a rider or a knight would suddenly appear out of nowhere in order to give them a letter or a message. As if they were always being followed by one of them. But what's more strange is that it was always a message from their sister. However, they have grown used to those bizarre interactions. Perhaps they were a bit too used to it.
"A raven from the queen," the rider said, in that typical mysterious voice. Gendry nodded as he took his time to read it. Mya and Ser Davos, with the rest, waited for whatever news the letter brought; however, the face of Gendry was quite surprising to see. He was utterly shocked and quite amazed by something written there.
"I can't believe it," Gendry muttered in disbelief; however, the more he thought about it, the more it made sense. It was his sister after all. If there's one who could pull off something like this, it's her.
"Gendry, what is it?" Mya was confused.
"Our Queen commands us to sail back to Dragonstone after we finish cutting the last roadways to King's Landing," Gendry stated loudly for all the soldiers to hear. It was clear they were relieved to finally leave Kingswood.
"And?" Mya questioned again, as she could see in the eyes of Gendry that something more was written in the letter.
"It seems that our sister travelled to Harrenhal to meet with Lord Tywin, and somehow she was able to end the hostilities between the Westerlands, the Riverlands, and the North. Now, they've joined forces and are gathering on Duskendale in order to counterattack Renly's forces."
It would be a lie to argue that this came as a shock; it was readily accepted by everybody. Mya accepted it at face value since she knew it came from her sister. While discussing her, concepts like logic were useless. Even yet, Mya laughed at the absurdity of it all and decided to go with it. "Naturally, all it takes is for her to talk to them, and the battle will end. It's obvious and reasonable, of course."
"Well, this puts my mind at ease," Ser Davos added, as Gendry nodded.
"Alright, everyone, let's cut as many trees as possible; we are finally going home!"
Gendry turned to see that, far away, the sound of Renly's troops could be heard. Soon, they shall meet on the battlefield. One last time.
The rains could still be felt across Westeros, on one of the edges of the continent, where such a climate was not welcome but also not truly unwelcome. That was just part of what it was to live in the Iron Islands, just what it was to be an Ironborn. However, for a certain man who called himself a king, those winds and rain were nothing but a nuisance at best. Balon Greyjoy, the newly crowned King of Salt and Rock, finds himself trying to move to his castle, strolling carefully on the bridge connecting each part of the castle. Yet he failed to notice a person standing on the other side of the bridge as the strong wings swung the wooden bridge around.
Balon stood there unaffected by the rain and strong wind. He just glared at the figure, wondering who dared to stand in his way. "Let me pass. You fool, move aside for your king." Balon yelled, annoyed, before a chuckle he recognised stopped his annoyance.
"Have I always moved, brother?"
Balon just stared and grunted inwardly. "I thought you'd been rotting under some foreign sea by now."
"What is dead may never die," Euron Greyjoy replied with his usual peaceful tone of voice. Balon remained silent, while Euron only tilted his head. "Has the costume changed while I was away? Aren't you supposed to repeat the words?"
"You can mock our god without my help, Euron. You never had problems before; why stop now?"
Euron smiled at him. "I never mock our god, brother. I am the Drowned God."
Balon just glanced at him, wondering just how far along Euron's mind already was. "I always thought you were bad in the head. Maybe a wet nurse knocked you out when you were a little baby."
"I would've been a lucky child if that was the case," Euron mocked back. "But I dreamt of many things as a child, brother. I could fly, and under the sea, my throne waits for me."
Euron's voice made Balon feel chilly. He has been always loose in the head, but now, after seeing each other again. Balon truly wonders what happened to his brother. Was he always this mad? Or something else happened?
"You're truly godless now, Euron. Gone and far away from our ancestors," Balon stated with fury in his eyes, as Euron could only laugh at that statement.
"Godless? No, brother. I am the godliest man alive! From Ib to Asshai, to Old Town, when men see my sails, they pray."
Balon narrowed his eyes as he slowly approached Euron, taking his time to move forward and making sure to keep his knife at hand. "Victarion should've killed you when you raped his wife. But you struck his man pride. A shameful fear was bigger than anger."
"He knew he couldn't kill me, nothing can," Euron replied. "But his wife was not what I wanted that night."
"I could care less what you wanted," Balon told Euron as they were now face to face. "I heard you lost your mind during a storm on the Jade Sea. They tied you to the mask to keep you from jumping overboard."
"They did," Euron replied with a sort of nostalgic smile on his face.
"And then the storm ended. You cut out their tongues."
"I needed silence. Their voices were too loud."
Balon just scoffed now. "What kind of Ironborn loses his mind during a storm?"
"I am the storm, brother. The first storm and the last storm," Euron replied, and now that they were face to face. Balon could see the blue lips and the clear eye patch on his face. The face of a madman, one that knew no fear and wanted more than just death. "You're old, brother. You had your time; now let another rule."
Balon sneered at him, but before he could do anything. Euron grabbed him by his neck, pushing him down and onto the edge of the bridge, centimetres away from falling down.
"You'll see, brother. I shall make sure that the Ironborn are known across the world before the end of times. I promise you this: Our ships and steel will paint the seas red, drowning the mermaids themselves. I'll bring the horrors of the end times. I WILL BECOME A GOD!"
Balon could only see those eyes filled with madness, filled with nothing but insanity, and wondered what had become of Euron and what he had tried to achieve. Yet, it was a question he would never be answered, as Euron finished it up, pushing him away, smiling as he saw his brother falling way down on the sea, hitting the rocks along the way.
Euron felt nothing as he watched his brother die before his eyes. Only more determined to go true to his aspiration for the world. He closed his eyes and let the rain wash away any stench of humanity in him. Euron could see it now—finally, a world with a god. above all else. Still, there was something he must do, and it is meet his beloved family. Euron had schemes, and war could wait, for the Kraken would rise from the sea soon, and Euron wanted many things. Among them, he wanted a queen, and he knew where he could find her.
Galadriel sneezed and suddenly felt a shiver. "What was that?" Galadriel muttered, confused, not knowing if she could get sick. "I doubt I could get a cold." Galadriel sighed as she began to prepare for what would soon come. She was in her room, looked at the map on her table, and hummed deeply. Currently, the forces were slowly gathering in Duskendale. It was quite an exciting moment for her; soon, she would travel there with the rest of the forces of Dorne and make sure everyone saw that she was the queen Westeros deserves.
Although, if Galadriel were honest, she would need a speech—or perhaps she won't need such a thing. "If I could hatch them, no speech would be needed."
The sight of the dragon eggs on Galadriel's bed made her happy, and she couldn't wait to start hatching them. So far, she hasn't successfully tried out any methods that would allow them to unleash their inner dragons. According to the scrolls her agents gave her, blood sacrifice and fire were the means by which the ancient Valyrians got their dragon eggs to hatch. Galadriel didn't know if that was true or if she needed something else. But she could try by using her own blood; after all, she wasn't human.
"If that doesn't work, well, cash items will come to the rescue," Galadriel said with a smirk before soon noticing someone knocking on her door.
"Your grace, Princess Arianne Martell, wishes to see you," Ser Barristand called.
Galadriel grinned before going to the door and opening it, already knowing who was there waiting for her. There, Arianne stood, happy to show off her quite revealing gown. Truly the Dornish style. Ser Barristand looked slightly amused by the fact that the princess seemed quite eager to charm the queen.
"Your Grace," Arianne bowed at Galadriel with a sultry smile on her face.
"My princess," Galadriel replied, raising an eyebrow at the Dornish beauty. It was clear that Arianne wanted nothing more than to be with her and spend all night with her. However, Galadriel wanted to make it harder for the Dornish princess. It was more entertaining that way. Still, she smiled at her. "I wanted to meet you."
"Oh? Well, my queen, here I am," Arianne replied, with lustful eyes. However, Galadriel just wanted to drive Arianne mad with lust, so she innocently missed the true meaning of her words.
"Yes, I would like to have breakfast with you. I wanted to ask about my sister, Myrcella; I heard she was sent to Dorne."
"Ah, yes, well, of course," Arianne muttered back.
"Excellent! I already sent people to prepare the meal!" Galadriel clapped her hands happily before guiding Arianne to the hall where breakfast was being served. Galadriel couldn't help but chuckle at the disappointing sigh coming from Arianne. She became blue at the thought of having no privacy at all with her queen.
They soon arrived and saw a certain prince already waiting there.
"Uncle?" Arianne frowned as Oberyn waved lazily.
"Niece, welcome," Arianne frowned as she glanced at Galadriel, who smiled at her innocently.
"I invited him! So we could all have a meal and spend time together," Galadriel said, while ignoring Oberyn's snorts and chuckles. He knew what Arianne was trying to do but failed at it; that's why she only hissed at him and threw him a piece of bread before sitting sulking on her chair.
Galadriel happily began eating her meal before peering at them. "When I heard that my uncle Tyrion sent Myrcella to Dorne, I was truly shocked. But I understood why he did that."
Oberyn tilted his head as he glanced at the young queen. "Is Joffrey truly that mad?" He asked.
"He wanted me dead. He already killed my father's bastards across King's Landing. Babies were butchered on the streets. Yes, he is really that mad."
Oberyn leaned on his chair while munching a piece of bacon. "Don't worry, your grace. We don't hurt little girls in Dorne."
Ser Barristan, who stood behind his queen, sighed deeply, not saying much. But Galadriel knew the old knight's feelings. "I know. I trust the Dornish people. I trust the Martell," Galadriel replied as Obery offered her a genuine smile.
"Although my grandfather is coming, I think that the meeting you wish to have with him would include more than just future compromises," Galadriel said slowly, as Arianne looked at her confused.
"It's Lord Tywin coming to Dragonstone?" Arianne asked as Galadriel nodded.
"Yes, and some of the other lords. Although Robb Stark will first lay to rest his grandfather, Lord Hoster Tully, who passed away a few days ago. But yes, they'll come here to prepare for the upcoming battle."
Galadriel wanted the most important lords to arrive. It will definitely be a better spectacle when she hatches the dragon eggs. A show needed an audience, and an actress needed the public to be in awe of the scene that would soon unfold before their eyes. But more importantly, Galadriel wanted to truly change how things worked. In order for her to secure the loyalty of everyone, not only the lords of Westeros but the people. They needed to see her as more than just a young woman, more than a queen, but as a being out of this world. Galadriel wanted more. To tell the truth. Galadriel was immune to the effects of ageing. If the rules, lore, and mythology of Yggdrasil still applied to her character now, then she was an eternal entity. Of course, technically speaking. She could be killed if she were to face another 100-level player who got the upper hand on her in a battle. Or if she were to face a Raid Boss of huge power. But truly, she doubted that would ever happen here.
So, Galadriel had to think ahead of her. So she decided on something that would shock the world to its core. And she could hardly wait.
"Well, I can hardly wait; what excitement! in" Oberyn smiled, and Galadriel only took a cup of orange juice, trying to hide a certain excitement to see how her grandfather would handle Oberyn's thirst for vengeance. Yet while she began to eat her breakfast, suddenly a guard arrived at the hall.
"Your Grace," the knight's sudden appearance made Galadriel frown, as she wasn't expecting any sort of news.
"What is it?" Galadriel was confused and tense. Did something happen? None of my agents has reported any suspicious activity from an unknown enemy. Galadriel's mind went into overdrive, and it quickly began to form any type of plan or backup plan for a potential enemy.
"A ship docked in the port; they seemed to be travellers from Essos. However, a man has requested to meet you."
Now everyone in the hall looked at the face of Galadriel, who was stunned, shocked, and tense. "Request to meet me? Who?" Galadriel asked slowly, in a very eerie tone that surprised the people next to her. "How does he look?"
The soldier looked to be thinking deeply. "He's an old man. Sort of. He has a trim beard and wears a strange outfit that I haven't seen before. He calls himself Sebas Tian."
At the moment the soldier said that name, the glass cup that Galadriel was holding fell to the floor. Everyone then, startled, stared at Galadriel, whose face showed only utter disbelief and shock. Never in his life of serving her has Ser Barristan seen such a stunned expression on her face. But it was more than just stunned silence. Galadriel couldn't process what she had been told, as if something were missing in the great scheme of things. Yet, like a sudden explosion of feelings, Galadriel stood up and sprinted to the docks.
Her reaction was so swift that no one else could see it unfold and understand what she was doing. The young monarch was seen leaving in such haste that nobody stopped to find out what was going on. Yet it was obvious that the mention of that person's name had touched a nerve deep inside her. Ser Barristan, Arianne, and a bemused but interested Oberyn all hurried after her.
"Your Grace!" Arianne yelled as they followed the runaway queen, and truly, the Dornish princess wondered how someone could be that fast. Even Oberyn had trouble keeping up with the queen. But soon enough, they all arrived at the ports, where Galadriel was standing still, watching the old man argue with a couple of guards.
"You're not going in," one of the soldiers stated.
"I assure you, I don't want trouble, but if you could tell the queen—"
"We already have, you old man. But still, you're not going to step a foot inside the island. We don't know if you're here to hurt our queen."
"Don't worry, I shall never hurt the queen."
Galadriel stood there, watching the butler of Nazarick. Sebas Tian, Touch-Me's creation. An NPC of Nazarick was there alive, a few feet ahead of her. It felt like a dream, watching something that, a long time ago, was just a simple, motionless character in a video-game. Sebas looked the same as Touch-Me did in real life. That's the reason why it hurt more to see him there for her. Yet the sensation of happiness started as Galadriel inspected Seba's outfit. The same tie and butler outfit. Those gloves, the beard, and the hair were just as she remembered. However, it was the voice that truly took her by surprise. It was gentle but firm, just like Touch-Me's voice was. When she thought back on the first person who ever made her feel like she belonged and was important, a wave of nostalgia and longing washed over her. It was so very long ago, but Galadriel still recalled everything.
With her eyes closed, Galadriel took a deep breath. Sebas saw the girl very immediately thereafter and stopped what he was doing to observe her. It's possible that she doesn't look anything like the demon emperor he once knew. The parallels, though, were undeniable. The same warm, amber eyes and pristine white mane. The same high cheekbones and mellow, seasoned demeanour of a ruler. Sebas recognised her instantly as his long-awaited lady.
"Let him through," Galadriel called, earning a confused stare from everyone. "He's important to me."
"Your Grace?"
"It's... it's okay, he speaks the truth. He will never hurt me."
The tone of Galadriel's voice had changed; it was now softer and warmer as if the mysterious guy signified something more important to her than anything else. It was baffling to witness such things. Arianne realised that Galadriel had never addressed Mya in such a way before. That voice was more personal and incredibly intimate. But why was that? Who was that man? Arianne, just like the rest, couldn't help but wonder.
Sebas approached Galadriel, who stood still and sighed profoundly. She raised her hand before Sebas could get to her. Galadriel gazed at him, uncomfortable in her own skin. The joy, though, continued to grow stronger. Only maybe. Was that really Sebas? Could he be truly the Nazarick Butler? There was only one way to find out.
"If you're truly him... tell me. Which floor do you serve?" Galadriel asked, perplexing everyone else who could hear those words.
However, for Sebas, this was also a confirmation that it was truly his lady. "I'm the steward of the ninth floor."
Galadriel smiled as she locked her eyes on him. "Tell me then. What is the duty of the strongest?" Sebas raised an eyebrow but realised why that question was asked. The answer was something his creator taught him to do above all else. Something only he would know and something only his lady would ask.
"To protect the weakest."
Galadriel chuckled loudly, surprising everyone there, as she pretty much flung herself at him, hugging him tightly. Enjoying the sensation of hugging Touch-Me, just for one last time, even though Sebas was not him but only looked like him. Still, it helped Galadriel to simply close that chapter in her life.
"I'm so happy to see you again, Sebas. It's truly been a long time."
Sebas had no idea how long his lady had been in this strange world but from the looks of it. Long years were written on her face.
"I am glad to see you again, my lady," Sebas replied gently.
"There's a lot to talk to, but first-"
Galadriel smiled at him, feeling that a part of her had been filled. If Sebas has arrived here, then the rest could follow, and so could Nazarick. The thought itself truly made Galadriel's joy increase; however, she soon noticed the people behind her. She cursed internally. Galadriel was so caught up with this sudden appearance of Sebas that she forgot they were there.
"Sorry for ignoring everyone," Galadriel said. "He is Sebas Tian. A confidant and an ally of mine."
"A confidant?" Arianne muttered, frowning deeply, as Oberyn hummed too, wondering why he felt this eerie feeling of lingering danger from that old man.
"Yes, we have been writing letters for quite a long time now. He had helped me greatly in my endeavours. However, this is the first time he has been able to personally assist me. Isn't that right, Sebas?" Galadriel asked, pushing Sebas slightly.
Sebas only nodded quickly, noticing his lady's plans. "Please allow me to introduce myself, lords and ladies. I am here at the behest of our queen." Sebas bowed deeply.
"Your Grace, I intend not to tell you who you need to trust or not. But is it wise for you... to be close to him?" Ser Barristan, blessed his noble heart, statements made Galadriel chuckle.
"Don't worry, Ser Barristan; Sebas is someone I trust with my life," Galadriel declared, smiling. "And I think both of you will get along."
Galadriel would have to explain all that has been happening since the day she was born in this strange world. But she also wanted to hear where Sebas came from and how long he had been in this world.
Yes, it was going to be a long talk.
The waves crashed on the Dragonstone's port, and with it, a dozen ships had just arrived. Those ships bring not only important cargo but also news. Yet, walking down from one of them, were Tywin Lannister and Jaime Lannister, of whom the latter seemed to have finally taken a proper bath and shaved however he seemed to have trimmed his hair, making him look more mature than before, or maybe it was the almost year he spent as a prisoner, who could say. Both of them looked at the castle, and Tywin was quick to notice the Dornish fleet already moving troops to Duskendale. On the sea, their numbers were now on the same terms as the Reach and the rest of the Stormlands. However, on the ground, their numbers were still lower than Renly's. However, it wouldn't be the first time Tywin got himself into that position. Their forces were going to win; he would make sure of that.
"I still find it hard to believe that my niece has been capable of bringing everyone together," Jaime stated, and while his smirk was still there, his voice truly reflected wonderment.
Tywin nodded, but he wouldn't show it. But he was still quite stunned by what his granddaughter has achieved in such a short amount of time. "Leaders have a special ability to rally their followers behind a common goal. My granddaughter has done everything, and then some."
"You like her, you've always liked her."
Tywin just scoffed, ignoring the tease from Jaime.
Jaime glanced at his father with a sort of chilly set of eyes. "Are you planning on making her a queen then? Even if Joffrey is the king? Your kin?"
"My kin has a weird way to show his duty to our family," Tywin only replied. "Also you forget, that Galadriel, also shares my blood."
"Joffrey is the oldest of Robert's children. The line of succession is clear. The only thing Robert did was to start all of this," Jaime said, and he truly hated the fact that he was defending Joffrey. But even if he were mad and truly sadistic. Joffrey was still his blood, his son. Jaime just wanted to delude himself into thinking that not everything Joffrey allegedly did was that bad. But maybe Jaime was truly lying to himself.
Or his love for Cersei truly blinded him. Jaime wasn't sure which was worse.
Tywin looked coldly at Jaime. "Joffrey is the reason we are in this position. Have you heard what he and your sister have done? All the madness they have brought? I won't have the Lannister name dragged down because of him and Cersei."
Jaime couldn't answer back. He has heard and knows Tyrion would not speak lies so rashly. But he truly did not want to believe Cersei would have allowed Joffrey to kill babies and burn people alive in their homes. It was as if it were all a joke from the gods to mock him one more time.
But while he felt conflicted about Joffrey, his son. Jaime also knew that Galadriel was perhaps the closest thing to a saint in current times. It was only a matter of how much his niece could achieve now.
Soon enough, Tywin and Jaime saw Robb Stark and Edmure Tully, arriving on another ship. The young wolf stared at the old lion and gave just a brief nod before moving away.
"Has the young wolf left a lasting impression on you, Father?" Jaime asked, and again, Tywin simply sneered at him. "You had to admit, he has exceeded your expectations."
"I'm glad you've found your way back to your old self," Tywin sneered.
"What? Didn't you have a lasting impression of me?" Jaime teased.
"A lasting impression," Tywin scoffed, refusing to argue more. "But I guess I should be jealous that Eddard Stark, eldest son and heir, took his father's cloak and did his duty, excelling at it. Perhaps you should learn from him."
Tywin's words struck deeply inside Jaime, who again couldn't reply.
Soon enough, from another ship, Mya and Gendry landed on the port, earning a stare from Jaime, who noticed they weren't just back from a picnic trip. They looked hardened, and they had an aura that he recognised well. They had been fighting for a while now. Jaime thought, watching the exhaustion in their eyes.
"Lord Tywin, Ser Jaime," Gendry called, walking slowly at them as Mya simply gave a small bow.
Tywin inspected them and had the same thoughts about them as Jaime had. They may be bastards, but their contribution to the war and loyalty to my granddaughter is unquestioned. Tywin nodded with quite a bit of respect.
"I have heard about the battle on the Kingswood," Tywin stated with his usual tone of voice.
"The Kingswood guerrillas, they called them," Jaime added, not flashing that arrogant smirk of his. But a truly genuine nod of respect. "Congratulations, both your names have now resonated across Westeros."
"You've managed to stop Renly's forces for over a month now and inflict heavy casualties on them," Tywin's voice, while cold and a bit pompous. Truly held some high regard for both bastards. "You've given us enough time to gather our forces and supplies. Good job."
Mya and Gendry looked at each other quite surprised to hear some compliments from Tywin Lannister, of all people.
"Thank you, my lord. But we were just doing our duty," Mya replied cautiously.
Tywin nodded as he then moved away to meet the queen. However, Mya and Gendry glanced at each other again.
"That just happened," Mya muttered. "Did Lord Tywin, the Old Lion, thank us?"
"Crazy, this war has truly changed my perspective on things," Jaime couldn't help but add.
"I just wonder what else is going to happen; honestly, I don't know."
Gendry said that Mya and Jaime simply followed Tywin to the castle.
Soon enough, all the lords arrived in the room with the war table. The tension in the room was still tangible. Robb, Edmure, and some of his Northerner and Riverland lords were on the other side of the table, while Tywin, Jaime, and some of his allies were on the other side. Stannis and Ser Davos were simply there, watching with mild amusement at the tension between those sides. And of course, Oberyn and Arianne Martell and a few Dornishmen were just on the edge of the table, watching everyone. No words were spoken; all was quiet in the room.
That was until Galadriel entered the room. However, everyone else noticed Sebas, especially those who didn't know him. Mya and Gendry looked at each other confused, wondering who the old man was and why Galadriel seemed to look quite more joyful than before. Mya glanced at Arianna and frowned, as the Martell princess seemed as baffled as her, and she had had more time to get to know Sebas, the strange and self-named butler of the queen.
Galadriel said softly, "My lords. I appreciate your attendance. Particularly in light of recent events. Although the wounds are still raw, we have set our disagreements aside. The people of each kingdom and all of Westeros must come first."
Galadriel decided to lower the tension and focus all of their stress on one point. Especially if that point was Renly.
"Lord Stark," Galadriel called Robb, who was still a bit uneasy about his title. Even after so long. "We have received a raven from the Lannister soldiers who travelled with the small group of Northern soldiers. They have liberated the Moat Callin and are marching towards Winterfell. I believe, with Lord Bolton's soldiers, they'll have enough forces to take back Winterfell."
Robb glanced at Roose Bolton, who nodded tightly at him. "Good, that's something my mother would like to hear."
Galadriel then glanced at Stannis. "Uncle, where is the Redwyne fleet?"
Stannis approached the war table and took a small boat figure, moving it around. "The Redwyne fleet is getting closer to the Massey's Hook. If winds are strong, they should enter Blackwater Bay before the tides turn."
"Just in time," Tywin added, noticing the timers by which their forces would move to face Renly. "How many soldiers do we have in total?"
"65,000 soldiers," Ser Barristan stated. "We have sent a small force to fight the Ironborn, and currently the rest of the Dornish army is harassing the Reach's south plains."
"65,000 against 100,000? These are quite the numbers," Edmure muttered with a scoff. "How are we supposed to win against such a large force?"
Robb sighed, hearing his uncle's words. Truly, he was starting to understand why his other uncle, Ser Brynden, held little respect for his own nephew. "We can; numbers don't win wars. Renly's forces had to face us in a land of our choosing. They can't take King's Landing by just sieging one side of the walls. They must surround it, and by that, they will cross the Blackwater Rush."
Jaime noticed that Robb wanted to apply the same strategy he used on him to Renly. He would have laughed at it if he wasn't still sore from that defeat.
"Renly is not a proven commander; he will fall under pressure," Jaime added. "However, still, what should we do about the Redwyne fleet and the troops they'll bring?"
Stannis hummed as everyone glanced at him. He was the most experienced sailor among them, and they trusted him with his insight. "Let their fleet crash into the shore of Blackwater Bay," he said, as Stannis only glanced at the table.
"We should hold our fleet back and let them bring all of their ships near the city."
"Why would you risk the city?" Edmure again spoke, sadly for him, although he wasn't as inept as his uncle would claim. Edmure was surrounded by experienced commanders and fighters. Even Galadriel, who was new to all of these moving armies and large strategy games, could see what Stannis wanted to do.
Galadriel muttered, perplexed at her uncle's ruthless plan. "You want to crash them from behind. You want to use the tides against them. They would be stuck without possibilities to move."
Galadriel had to admit that it was a bit naive to think that she would be the one commanding armies. Truly, there wasn't a need for her to do something like that; her family was filled with proven and experienced companions, just like Stannis Baratheon, Tywin, and Jaime Lannister. She could trust them and also learn from them, which she was currently doing.
Also, that assessment of her seemed to have surprised and impressed her family and other lords.
"That's right, Your Grace," Stannis replied. "It seems that Robert's mind for warfare was also passed down to you."
Galadriel chuckled as she looked at the pieces on the war table. "We are still outnumbered," she stated.
"But not outmatched," Gendry said, earning a smile from her sister. "Renly's forces are tired and sick from the Kingswood battles. The endless rain also took some trebuchets out. So, they would have to be really careful where to put them."
"If their siege weaponry is truly in a bad state, then it would take them longer to position them," Robb added.
"The River Gate is the closest wall and gate to them, yet they had to cross the Blackwater Rush river in order to use any battering ram, which will prove useless to them if their men die before crossing the river," Tywin hummed deeply.
"How many soldiers does King's Landing have currently?" Robb asked now.
"The Gold Cloaks numbers are around 2000 strong, or so I would like to believe. Joffrey's brought a few mercenary groups that are currently outnumbering them. Yet, I doubt those swordsmen would like to stay and fight," Galadriel muttered slowly, making sure to show her disdain for Joffrey's stupidity. I'll have to clean up all your mess, brother. Galadriel groaned internally, already seeing how much work she would have on her hands once all of this was over.
"Still, if I were to predict Renly's move, he would move his battering ram towards the Lion Gates in order to better use the battering rams and the catapults while at the same time putting those trebuchets on the other side of the Blackwater Rush and hammering the city from afar."
Jaime stated, earning a few nods from Robb, Stannis, and Tywin. It was clearly the best decision to make if they were in Renly's shoes.
Still, Galadriel's army was outnumbered, even with all that Mya and Gendry had done. It was going to be a brutal battle. It would be shameful if Galadriel decided to cheat her way to victory.
"It's going to be a tough fight, no matter what," Robb muttered, already sighing deeply, knowing that a lot of Northern soldiers would die. "With a lot of deaths on all sides."
"Every battle has casualties; that's why it's called war," Tywin replied quickly. "I believe you know this by now."
"While I am aware of this, Lord Tywin, I am also concerned for the safety of my troops. My heart isn't as stone as yours."
"A ridiculous notion," Tywin said. "Soldiers must understand that there is nothing more important than winning the battle."
"Are you talking about yourself, Lord Tywin? If I recall, you were being decimated by my nephew here," Edmure teased, but with a sneer.
"If I remember correctly, I could say the same about the Riverlords at the Golden Tooth," Jaime added now, defending his father.
Galadriel sighed as the conversation abruptly turned to the topic of who had the larger ego.
"My lords!" Galadriel exclaimed, before looking at each one of them. "Gentlemen, please, let's not unravel all the progress we have made so far by arguing about who defeated who or where."
That seemed enough to silence the rest, albeit for a short while.
"Now, I know that Renly's army is larger, but... we do have something that he does not," Galadriel whispered, as Stannis, Gendry, and Mya glanced at her, knowing what she was talking about. But what would she gain by bringing it out now of all times? Could it be that she knew how to hatch those dragon eggs?
"And what is that?" Oberyn asked now, after a long time of being silent.
Galadriel only smiled, loving the fact that soon things were about to change. It was only a matter of whether the world was ready for it.
Dragonstone Island's castle was visible from where Galadriel stood on the coast. Despite this, a large number of lords had gathered closely behind the queen, all of whom seemed either bewildered or intrigued by the queen's impending actions. What was she trying to accomplish? Why did she have this determined gaze on her face? Neither could answer this. Melisandre welcomed her by preparing a large sculpture of wood and a large bonfire for her, and soon Sebas was carrying the three dragon eggs.
That quickly brought shock to all the lords who saw the three dragon eggs on Seba's arms. Jaime quickly walked towards his niece, afraid of what she would do.
"Niece!" Jaime called. "Galadriel!"
"Yes, uncle?" Galadriel asked, tilting her head and wondering what made him look so terrified.
"What are you going to do?" Jaime demanded.
Galadriel raised an eyebrow at his questioning but was already prepared for it. Especially when she saw Tywin approaching her as well.
"I have Targaryen in my blood, uncle. I knew this, my father knew this, and everyone knows this. However, I have been having dreams lately. I can't get them off my head," Galadriel replied, trying to look confused but confident. "In these dreams, I see three dragons around me. They were big and powerful. But I was flying next to them. Flying high in the sky, uncle, I know what I am doing; trust me. My dreams come true."
"You're mad?!" Jaime exclaimed just baffled by those words.
"I'm not mad, uncle," Galadriel replied, amused. "All I have done so far, all I have accomplished, is proof enough that I am not mad."
Jaime seemed torn, but more afraid than anything else. Tywin felt the same way; he was worried that his granddaughter had inherited the Targaryens' infamous lunacy. It was possible after all. If Joffrey was mad, it could very well mean that Galadriel also has a sort of madness in her blood. Even more than Joffrey, since she was almost a half-Targaryen. And that made Jaime concerned, since Galadriel may inherit more of the taint as time goes on.
"The Targaryens were mad. And whatever you're trying to do will end in your death. And I'm not about to let my daughter be named another crazy lunatic," Tywin hissed frantically.
"Grandfather, I am not about to drink wildfire, if that is what you're worried about. Fire doesn't hurt me. Ask anyone here," Galadriel replied a bit insulted that they were calling her mad. "I am doing what I must in order to win. And to secure the future of our family."
That wasn't enough for either Tywin or Jaime, but Galadriel simply ignored their pleas. She understood their worries and fears. More than others, Galadriel couldn't help but wonder what her uncle Jaime saw during his time serving the Mad King.
"Trust me; that's all I ask of my family," Galadriel whispered, watching them. "Is one of the reasons I never spoke about my dreams, for fear of being labelled as mad. But I know, this is different! I can feel it!"
Galadriel walked near the bonfire as Melisandre smiled at her. "Everything is ready, Your Grace."
"Thank you, Lady Melisandre."
"None need to thank me. This, right here, is a door open for all of us. Fire will bring a new dawn, but what will come after this, I can't say. The Lord of Light hasn't shown me anything yet."
Galadriel didn't like that Lord of Light thing. It made her feel suspicious. So far, she hasn't met any type of high-end enemy. Nothing would make her feel threatened. But the more time passed, the more she heard about the Old Gods, the Seven, the Lord of Light, the Drowned God, and the famous Night King. Were they real by any stretch? Galadriel had no clue. But how powerful would they be if they were? Again, she didn't know. But if they were out there, waiting, bitting their time. Galadriel would find out, sooner or later. And when she does. Nothing would stand in her way. It was one of the reasons she was doing this too. To see, how if they were real. How those gods will react towards her.
It was a mystery to her now. But one, she'll keep an eye out for.
"Yes, sure," Galadriel muttered as she stood next to Sebas. "Do you feel anything from them, Sebas?"
Sebas hummed while holding the eggs in his arms. "It feels as if they have a small lingering pulse. I can't explain it in words, my lady. But they are alive. Frozen. My passive skills also tell me this. Strange, truly."
"The dragons here are different from the ones on Yggdrasil. Here, magic is more raw and crude. Less sophisticated. Yet, I wonder just how chaotic it could be and why they are reacting in such a way with you. Maybe because of your race?
"It could be, my lady," Sebas nodded slowly. "I have noticed that the so-called dragons looked more like Wyverns than dragons."
"Yes, from the skulls I have seen, they do look like Wyverns."
"But I wonder, why do I feel them in such a way?" Sebas was intrigued.
"You're a Dragonoid, and for all intents and purposes, this world reacts differently towards us. I think the essence of those Wyverns may recognise you as something far greater and more powerful than them. Call it animal instinct."
Sebas could see why his lady would say something like that; it made sense to him. "So, what could I do?"
"Be ready. I intend to follow this world's rules and use my blood and magic to awaken them."
"Your blood, my lady?"
"Yes, supposedly, the Targaryen used blood magic and fire magic to bind dragons, or something like that. So, I think my blood is far more powerful than any sacrifice. And don't worry, I also have these," Galadriel then showed Sebas her ring, the Shooting Star. And a bloodstone of sorts called the [Ancient Old Dragon Blood Stone] back in Yggdrasil, this stone was rare and often used to enchant weapons, items, and armour and summon small-level dragons. Sometimes, it was also used to nourish Dragon Pets, if someone had them, and loved wasting gold on them to make them stronger, among other things. For Galadriel, it was just a useless item; the buffs weren't something she needed or could take advantage of, and she didn't have Dragon Pets. But here, it could truly prove a useful summoning item. It may be overkill. But Galadriel would get her dragons, one way or another.
"I must make sure to use this wisely," Galadriel muttered before staring at Sebas. "Also, they are going to ask more about you, Sebas. I can't keep telling them that you're just a pen pal friend of mine. Especially after what I am about to do."
"Are you sure about this, my lady? It's truly going to change the perspective of things. Especially, since it is hard to predict how humans will react to your appearance."
"I do. We aren't humans, Sebas. We will never age. It's going to be quite hard to hide the fact, that I haven't aged in fifty years from now. And, this will allow me to build the empire I always wanted truly. Pretending to be an innocent princess at all times is tedious, pointless, and dull."
Entertainment was the reason Galadriel was doing all of this. All those years of acting like an innocent little and frail thing. Those awful conversations where Galadriel had to pretend to not know what they were talking about. While funny at times, it was also tedious. That was it. Yet, she truly wanted to build something worthwhile. Galadriel was a Demon Empress. She was an Empress, and she had a need to rule and to conquer, and she couldn't do any of that if she kept on playing the same card over and over again.
Westeros needs more than a simple queen; it needs an empress. But this world needs a supreme being. Galadriel smirked widely, as her plan filled her with excitement. "Additionally, I'll be able to put an end to certain issues for good. The main concern was that my position would be challenged in the future. I am, after all, a human female in power, but if I weren't that. If I were more than just a mortal to them, none would dare rise against me."
Sebas tilted his head at her. "I see, you want me to have a sort of... identity?"
"Yes, but we should work on that later, yes?"
"Of course, my lady."
"Now, it's time to birth these dragons," Galadriel soon pulled a dagger from her inventory. [The Red Venus Dagger] was a powerful enough weapon that could hurt her, but more importantly, a weapon that would allow her to "bleed" necessarily. If the lore of the Valyrian dragon was true. They could bind Dragons to their blood, so if she were to use her blood, maybe it would serve. Also, hopefully, the stone would be useful.
Sebas put the eggs on the bonfire. Galadriel saw that the eggs weren't bothered by the heat at all, but neither were Sebas nor Galadriel, and that was something the rest saw. Sebas then moved backwards, so Galadriel was the centre of attention. Galadriel then put the [Ancient Old Dragon Blood Stone] on the bonfire before slicing the palm of her hand. Her blood. The essence of a Demon Empress, a level 100 player, soon fell on the three eggs, and Galadriel slowly saw how those eggs seemed to absorb her blood as if they were sponges. Then, to her surprise, the eggs began to shake. The stone she put in the middle of them, started to melt quickly, like ice cream, and enveloped the three eggs. When that happened, the bonfire exploded, into a huge tornado of powerful fire, taking Galadriel and everyone else by surprise.
The shockwave pushed everyone to the ground, and the intense fire tornado seemed to have taken all the moisture off the shore. Jaime just looked horrified at the tornado, and memories of Aerys came to his mind.
Burn them all! Burn them all! Jaime truly thought that Galadriel was scorched to death. Tywin wasn't so far behind on that thought, and deep inside he chastised him for allowing such madness to happen in the first place. No one could survive this, not even a Targaryen.
Melisandre's jaw dropped when she saw the unadulterated fury of the flames. It seemed almost alive. She's never seen anything like it before. Not once, not ever. Yet as the tornado expanded, they were all startled by a loud screeching roar that seemed to come from nowhere. A roar so loud it sounded like it scratched the air. But two more roars were heard, one by one.
There were three shadowy figures emerging from the fire tornado. Dark shadows, absurdly large to be there at all. Their eyes could not look away from whatever was behind the tornado. Whatever it was, they seemed to be looking at them now.
Mya, just glared at the unless winds of raw fire, wondering where she could finally see Galadriel. Her heart was beating fast, and truly, that thought was shared around, as Arianne stared stunned at whatever was happening in front of her.
But as soon as the fire tornado came, it vanished slowly, allowing for the truth to come out. Centuries ago, Aegon Targaryen changed the rules of warfare and established a dynasty that lasted for hundreds of years. And while the Targaryen came and went, his name was still remembered. But what changed things, was the power of a dragon. Nothing, not even tall walls or armies, could beat a dragon. The rulers of the skies put Westeros on their knees. But it's been more than a century since the last dragon lived, and it was the size of a small cat.
Now, however, they were confronted by three imposing dragons that stood on the island's coasts. It was only after a few seconds of reflection that they realised it wasn't a dream or a nightmare. The dragons were not small, or even recently hatched. It looked as if they were decades older. Their golden eyes sparked an intelligence that no such animal should have, but more importantly, on the shore, where the bonfire used to be, lays the queen on her knees, above the ashes of whatever the tornado burned away.
Galadriel's survival wasn't the thing that surprised them at all, but what has changed in her and everything. Melisandre fell to her knees, praying in High Valyrian, as she stared at the scene unfolding before her.
Robb, just couldn't quite grasp what his eyes were seeing. "What is this?" He could only whisper.
Mya fell backwards, almost passing out from the sheer shock of the scene before her, and even Gendry couldn't help but fall to his knees. A sort of laugh, a crazy, yet incredulous laugh, came out of his mouth.
"This... it can't be real. This can be real," he whispered, shaking his head and muttering about whether he was dreaming.
The fire has burned Galadriel's clothes, but not left her naked. Since, covering her body, on her back, were two large black wings, slowly twitching and moving, removing any ashes from them. Galadriel moved slowly, as if she were a newborn, her face covered in dust, but those golden eyes were brighter than ever. They resemble the dragon's eyes too. Slowly she stood up, watching the lords before her, who were all either kneeling before her in utter shock or simply too frozen in place to say or do anything.
"Just like my dreams," Galadriel stated as she whispered dreamily.
Does Daenerys Targaryen think she can outdo me in the dramatic scenes?! Well, she had one thing coming! Galadriel thought as she suddenly spread her wings, while her dragons did the same, following her steps. That in itself, allowed everyone to realise that it was real. All of it was real and was happening now before them.
Sebas approached her and quickly put a cloak around her, covering her body before more people watched her in her naked state.
Galadriel turned around and saw her three, oversized, dragon babies. Truly, she had zero clue that they would have been this big. It was good; otherwise, she wouldn't be able to use them in time. Also, she noticed something in them. Galadriel couldn't truly see her stats, but felt, a sort of connection to those three.
It could be like the Yggdrasil pet system. Galadriel wondered if she would test how well they could understand her words and orders. But now there was a big thing she must do. "How should I name the three of you?" Galadriel muttered while the three dragons tilted their heads in a comical way.
"Galadriel…?"
Galadriel turned around, watching Mya slowly approaching her. "Yes?"
"Is that you? Is that really you?" Mya whispered, making Galadriel confused, but she guessed that the black wings on her back made everyone confused.
"Well, yes, why shouldn't I?" Galadriel replied amused.
Mya flinched and looked back at Galadriel's three massive dragons. It seemed as though they were staring right into her heart and mind. Her legs couldn't move anymore, because of sheer fear. None could blame her. None have seen a dragon in centuries, especially after everything they have watched.
"They are real," Mya muttered slowly, watching the wings on Galadriel's back. "These are truly real wings..."
Galadriel chuckled, slowly approaching Mya. "Yes, you can touch them."
Mya slowly did, and she couldn't help but gasp at how soft the black feathers were. "This is… surreal... Galadriel, I-I don't know what to say..."
"It's quite maddening for anyone; it's different from my dreams. I understand, that, this is hard to accept."
"Your dreams?" Mya asked. "You never talked about them."
"It's quite hard to explain a dream where you enter fire and wings come out of the ashes, Mya. As I've told you about it. Maybe, internally, you would have called me mad."
"I would have never-!"
"Mya is alright; everything is alright."
Galadriel then looked at her grandfather, who was still in his place with shock in his eyes. An incredible scene that she would forever remember. The rest were the same, but there wasn't time to waste. Galadriel understood that from now on, depending on the people's reactions around her. Things were going to change. It was hard to predict how much. But it was done. The role of the innocent princess served her well. People loved and adored her. Now it was time for them to worship her.
And indeed, they will. Galadriel reflected on this as she extended her enormous wings behind her, demonstrating just how massive they were, while her three dragons roared and shook the earth under them.
Authors note.
The next chapter is called "The Battle of King's Landing."
Also, check my Tumblr page for artwork! See you all later!
