Ending up in middle of a snowing cold mountain and a war is not what Arya expected when she ran to the Gates
The last thing she remembered was Raff the Sweetling looking up sharply as the long thin blade came sliding from her sleeve. She slipped it through his throat beneath the chin, twisted, and ripped it back out sideways with a single smooth slash. A fine red rain followed, and in his eyes the light went out.
Then she threw his body into the canals to be eaten up by eels and headed back to the Gate...well atleast she was supposed to before ending up here somehow(one second she was running in the streets the next second she slipped on ice)
An ugly face swung a scmitar that nearly took her head off she ducked and jabbed him with her thin blade that easily slipped through the gaps in armour
Black blood gushed out as that man fell
Out of the corner of her eyes she saw something shiny
"I think that went fairly well," Thorin said with a pleased smile as he and the company sat around the remains of dinner at Bilbo's table at Bag End, ending up where they began.
"I should say not!" the hobbit retorted angrily as he put his crutches to one side and plunked his bandaged ankle on the table. "First you nearly choked me to death. Then you died on me, Thorin, you died on me! Oh, and then I sprained my ankle walking home! Only to see Bag End being stripped bare!"
The dwarf king sighed at the hobbit's bandaged leg.
"I said I was sorry," he replied
"That he did, laddie," Balin interrupted, "and quite movingly too as you recall. Now don't dredge up what's done."
Conversation stopped while the dwarves remembered Thorin's last words that fell like gems from his lips. The dwarven king still managed to speed hearts while he lay on the pale blue ice. With his last few breaths, he smiled that lazy, lopsided smile that made women adore him and uttered his final words. His noble profile was pale and back-lit.
"If I recall, you did forgive me," he reminded the hobbit with an indulgent grin. "You cried over my dead body." The others mumbled in agreement.
Bilbo grudgingly agreed that he did, indeed.
"I was just so mad at you for dying," he said sorrowfully. "I don't know why it had to end up that way." He folded his arms across his chest "A lot of other things were changed, so why not that? It just wasn't fair. I hate goodbyes." He bumped Thorin's shoulder, and the dwarf king nudged him back.
"Friends?" Thorin asked with a soft smile on his face.
Bilbo shook his head and laughed. He never could stay mad at him for long.
"Friends—and only friends—despite what others seem to think."
"I don't see why you were upset, Bilbo," Kili said. "Uncle died wonderfully after a swoon-worthy apology. Thousands of women sobbed while Warriors saluted his passing, I'm sure, while you got a mithril shirt worth more than the Shire, a fabulous adventure, and another story to boot...much better I reckon especially that fight with the Dragon"
"It took several loops to come up with that plot including that golden statue of mine grandfather...Ah!you should have seen the worms face when he saw it" Thorin brightened at the support, but Fili scowled.
"Aye, he gets the big honourable death ," the heir said sourly. "I got dropped off a cliff without a chance to fight. Where's the glory in that, I ask you?"
"Don't worry, lad," Dwalin said gruffly "dying for a good cause always is a honourable one no matter how I'm sure you'll kill him next time "
"Aye," Bofur said. "Your fall was dramatic and signalled the beginning of the end. Not bad at all"
Balin shook his head. To his mind, these loops treated death as a joke and after all this time you would think Thorin would learn not to fall into his own dragon sickness...he justifyed it as getting extremely drunk and not being himself and ruled everything that happened in between as insanity caused by the dragon
Hermione Granger managed brew up an anti-desire portion but it gave Thorin such a bad headache (like a hangover) that he couldn't even stand straight (that was one of the few loops Thorin survived the battle of the five armies
Fili was unconvinced. He didn't even get a chance to lift his sword. It just wasn't fair that his younger brother got both fight to death and romance with an elf no less
"My king, that ballad on the battle between you and Azog on the ice was truly magnificent ," Dori said admiringly. "Whose idea was that?"
Thorin puffed out his chest at his thrilling fight
"The writers felt they needed to display my prowess as a warrior and strengthen the dramatic climax," he said with a proud tilt of his chin.
"Aye, but you had the chance to kill him when the eagles came, but you just stood there watching," Nori pointed out, "so where was the prowess in that?"
Thorin chose to ignore him and sopped the last of his bread in the stew instead
"Hey, did anyone see Legolas hanging from one of those bat things?" Bombur asked. "What was he doing?"
"showing-off," Kili groused. "Always showing off. And what about him running up those falling rocks? How could that even happen?"
Nori frowned, pulled out a book, and leafed through its pages.
"He's not even in the baseline!" he said with disgust. "What's with that?"
"how do you know that?" Ori asked.
"It's in the book, you know, the book."
"More like a pamphlet compared to the others," Balin muttered under his breath.
"Just where did you get that?" Gandalf demanded. He folded his arms, looking like a disapproving parent.
The sharp-nosed dwarf tried to look innocent.
"Oh, here and there not very hard when everyone likes to read about our brave exploits"
The dwarves crowded around to read and verify their first journey while Bombur grabbed what he could from the leftovers. He thought it the height of disrespect for them to eat all the food and leave him only a pot of stew.
"So why did he even come there in the first place?" Dori asked. "Did you notice him before?"
"Must be my lad Gimli who told him about it " Glóin shrugged "He's probably sore that my boy beat him in killing orcs in every battle they have been in"
"speaking of him why was he not in the party "
"He is only twelve in body " Glóin deadpanned "no yet ready to go out in the world"
"Bilbo actually fought in this one pretty clever cracking up their skills while being invisible "Oni laughed
"I got knocked out anyways and lost my ...oh...oh dear"Bilbo realised that he did not have the ring with him
"No need to worry about that Suron was heard screaming as he lost most of his powers after the ring mysteriously vanished he is weakened greatly though not vanquished " Gandalf assured
"Another glorious war and battle against the dark lord himself "Fili threw his arms up in anger the last time someone stole the ring it ended up with Sauron battling with Aragorn ,Legolas Gimli and Gandalf and being overthrown and destroyed
The other politely ignored him in favour of reading the book
"I see Arya's looping" Bran commented as he saw Jon consoling a sobbing Arya
"Bran?...a...you can walk" Arya sniffed
"Brackium Emendo a very useful charm took me two years to learn it though " Bran answered
"Your not making any sense " Arya blinked
"Right, now let start by telling you about the loops..."
Cersei awoke knowing something was amiss. She couldn't figure out what until she went to brush back her hair.
A loud scream echoed through out the red keep
The howls of sorrow and pain coming from the Great Hall where weeping King Joffrey sat the Iron Throne could be heard throughout the Red Keep. He was bowed forward as if seated upon a toilet, with his head in his hands and his curls shaking with each sob on his left buttcheek sharp knife without a hilt had embedded itself courtesy of Arya
Who knew being invisible could be so much fun?
That's exactly what Arya discovered when she wore the ring (ignoring the fact that she had died a few seconds after wearing it an arrow though her heart) it gave her the power of invisibility.
She walked around Winterfell castle pretending to be a ghost. Only Nymeria and Bran seemed to sense she was still there.
So far she scared the witts out of her little brother Rickon sending the poor toddler crying to Robb(she stuck him some honey cakes afterwards as apology)
She eagerly had been awaiting an opportunity to prank prince Tommen. She couldn't wait for him to cry like a little baby!
"Oh! I'm a ghost! I'm going to get you prince Tommen!"
"G-g-ghost" Tommen looked around fearfully and saw no one.
"I'm a ghost and I'm going to steal your soul!" a voice spoke very close to him
Arya poked Tommen on the arm.
"And then I'm going to bite this off!"
"Ahhhhh! Help! A ghost trying to get me!" Tommen screamed crying and running away.
Tyrion Lannister was not having a good day his someone had shaved off his sister Cersei's hair, Scared young Tommen out of his wits oh and Joffrey impaled himself on the iron throne and died a very agonizing death afterwards
"Gods Jamie was right this thing is uncomfortable as hell ' Tyrion Lannister leaned back in the Iron Throne, the weight of the seat's jagged metal digging uncomfortably into his back. A goblet of wine, half-drained, rested lazily in his hand. The Great Hall of the Red Keep was nearly empty at this late hour, with only a few of the King's Guard standing silent sentinel and a handful of servants moving quietly in the shadows. Tommen, the king in name had shut himself in his room crying something about a ghost while Myrcella was trying to console him thus leaving the tiresome business of ruling to his uncle.
He had spent the better part of the day listening to petty disputes, balancing the ambitions and managing the whims of lords
But even as he sat on the damn thing, a voice—a cold, malevolent whisper—kept speaking in his ears
"Gods just kill one and give the land to the other who cares if that land belongs to Lord Vinten or Lord Hamilton "
Currently the two said nobles were arguing about some ancestral land which each claimed to belong rightfully to their house
"Grand Maester Pycelle I shall ask your assistance to check the validity of the claims in the records of the land in the royal archives Lord Vinten , Lord Hamilton the crown shall give it's judgement as soon as possible " Tyrion replied
"As you wish Lord Hand"
"Seven hells this is driving me mad "
"That would be nice if you went mad "
Tyrion's eyes snapped open. He glanced around the hall, but nothing seemed out of place. The guards stood motionless, and the servants continued their work, oblivious. He was alone, or so it appeared. Yet the voice had been so clear, so close, as if someone had whispered directly into his ear.
"Who was that !?" Tyrion asked aloud, his voice steady despite the growing unease in his chest.
"You hear me, don't you?" the voice said, echoing in his mind with a tone of disdain. "Intelligent enough to notice, at least."
The voice chuckled, a sound like dry leaves rustling in the wind. "You've sat in this throne long enough to notice the patterns, haven't you? The foolishness of kings, the madness that seeps into their bones. Aerys, Robert… Joffrey. I am the Iron Throne!"
Tyrion's heart pounded in his chest. He had known the Iron Throne was some dark ominous symbol of power and that the madness of the Targaryens had left a stain on it, but this was unbelievable was this some sort of curse ?
"What do you want?" Tyrion demanded, his voice low. He
"Want?" the voice mused, as if the question amused it. "What did I want when I ended Jaehaerys's life? A man too clever for his own good, too capable by far. His reign would have brought stability, strength to the realm… but where's the fun in that? So I snuffed him out, as one snuffs out a candle."
Tyrion's blood ran cold. He had always heard that Jaehaerys II had died of a sudden illness, but there had been whispers, rumors of something darker. That a man so wise, so capable, could die so suddenly and now, this… thing claimed responsibility.
The voice continued, its tone shifting from amusement to something more sinister. "Aerys was easier. Just a gentle push, here and there, until his mind crumbled like old parchment. The Mad King, they called him. A fitting name, don't you think?"
The voice in Tyrion's head took on a more animated tone, as though relishing the memories it was recounting. "Aerys was such a promising king, in the beginning. A strong will, a fierce desire to leave his mark. But he needed guidance. What better advice could I give than to tell him the truth? 'Fire and blood,' I whispered to him, reminding him of his house's words. I told him that to bring back the dragons, he needed to embrace those words fully. Burn them all, I said. Purge the realm in fire, and the dragons would return, just as they had in Valyria."
Tyrion felt a chill run down his spine. The madness of King Aerys, the atrocities he committed in the name of prophecy and power, had always seemed so senseless. Yet now, hearing the voice speak of it as though it were a jest, Tyrion began to understand. This was no mere madness; it was a manipulation, a deliberate nudge into the abyss.
"He believed me," the voice continued, almost giddy with the memory. "He saw himself as a god, the rebirth of his ancestors. And when his fear grew, when he felt his throne slipping from his grasp, he turned to the flames as his salvation. Burn them all! That was his solution to every problem. He thought the fire would cleanse him, that it would restore his power. But in the end, it only consumed him."
"And Robert?" Tyrion asked, his voice hoarse. "What did you do to him?"
The voice chuckled again, this time with a note of dark fondness. "Robert was a simpler creature. No grand visions of power or prophecy, just a man who loved life's pleasures. I guided him down the path of indulgence, made him a fat, drunken pig. It was easy, really. He had a thirst, and I was more than happy to recommend the finest wines for every occasion. 'Drink deeply,' I would say, and he would laugh, draining another cup."
Tyrion could almost see it now—Robert, sitting at his feasts, surrounded by his knights, his belly full of wine and food, his eyes wandering to the serving girls. The thought that these indulgences had been encouraged, even orchestrated, by the voice now speaking to him filled him with a sense of dread.
"But it wasn't just the wine, of course," the voice continued. "I whispered to him, pointed out the prettiest girls, made the dirtiest jokes. He loved it, you know. A good drinking companion, he called me. He thought it was all in good fun, just a bit of harmless pleasure. But slowly, oh so slowly, he lost his edge. The warrior who had won the throne became a fat, lazy king, more interested in his next drink or his next whore than in ruling. And when he died, gored by that boar, he didn't even see it coming. His death was a mercy, really."
Tyrion's mind raced. Robert Baratheon, once the mightiest warrior in the realm, had been reduced to a shadow of his former self by the very vices this voice had encouraged. The realization struck him like a blow—this voice had been there, all along, whispering in the ears of kings, steering them toward ruin.
"And Joffrey?" Tyrion asked, his voice barely a whisper.
"Ah, your nephew," the voice said, its tone dripping with malevolent glee. "Joffrey was a different kind of toy. A cruel boy, with a mind easily bent to chaos. I didn't need to do much, just a few suggestions here and there. His cruelty, his madness—it all came so naturally to him. He was a delight to play with, watching him torment those around him. He thinks he's in control, but he's just a puppet, dancing on strings he doesn't even see."
Tyrion felt a cold sweat trickle down his back. Joffrey was always a monster but if he sat on the throne and listened to the voice
Tyrion swallowed hard, the weight of the revelation settling heavily on his shoulders. The stupidity of the previous kings had become crystal clear to him now
That very day he ordered the throne to be melted down
Arya still invisible laughed loudly at the news causing Tommen who was nearby to cry
A/N Arya is having fun also she is a bit mean due to the ring infuencing her