Blessed Baelor - SI

by WinrarArchivist

Plucked from my first life by the grasping hand of the Crone, I found myself thrown in the body of Baelor Targaryen, known in another life as the Befuddled. Having been sadly unable to prevent Daeron's death, I am now become king. Westeros and the Faith will never be the same. A SI who's more likely to quote Thomas Aquinas or the Book of Proverbs rather than Machiavelli or Sun Tzu.

5. IV: Pleasant Dreams

Chapter IV: Pleasant Dreams

It is said that when faithful Hugor of the Hill in ancient times was sent visions of the divine, that he, by his own hand, carved statues of the Father and Mother, of Smith and Crone, of Warrior and Maiden, of the Stranger. These statues served to worship the One-Who-Is-Seven and the Seven-Who-Are-One in the first temple of the gods, itself built by the selfsame hand. It is said that since these statues where carved by the hand of the Prophet himself, that the very stone was hallowed beyond belief, and that from their stony visage, the presence of the Seven was felt most arduously, watching over their Faithful.

And when the Andals came to Westeros, guided by promises of foreign land and rule, these relics remained behind on the Holy Hill, in the ancient realm. Yet the vagaries of time had their due, and the Valyrians came with their dragons and Andalos was lost to its people, and the Seven Stones were lost. Some said that the Stones burned in dragonfire, or were lost to the hammers of the blasphemous, other said that the Stones were taken as spoils and sent to Valyria and perished with the Doom.

Yet, a tale was told of a faithful septon, who in the cover of darkness took the faces of the Seven and hid them in a hollow hill where they remain to this day.

And in my sleep, vision of eyes unyielding plagued my dreams, and I sank in them like in a sea. I found myself on the shore of the Narrow Sea, and a raven black as night flew beyond the walls of the Red Keep, across the sea, past Dragonstone, past Pentos and in the Velvet Hills, where the Little Rhoyne starts flowing and the beyond to a hill covered in pines and a cave hid by bushes. And then the raven sat, and the bush set itself alight in glowing flames and a Voice said HERE, and the eyes returning, gaze almighty, and in their eyes I found an abyss, full of glittering stars and galaxies, and my soul was laid bare before the One, and music celestial was heard, notes eldritch to my ears, and I felt my mind slipping the bound of sanity and my wits cracking, for I saw what was not meant to be seen and the flesh of my body burned in agony, and a Voice said SEE MY WILL DONE, and in that Voice I heard Seven Voices, I heard the wind and gales of a thousand storms, a myriad thunders, the sound of countless rivers, I heard the waves of an angry sea.

Darkness came and covered my vision, and in that darkness cold winds and I shivered, and then a light began to burn in the darkness. And as the light found its way towards me, the darkness turned into fog. But as that fog lifted, I found myself North, sitting atop the Wall, and looking down upon the Haunted Forest. And in that dreadful dream, I saw a blizzard coming from the heart of Winter, as high as the heavens themselves., towering over the quiet trees, advance unyielding, blizzard unescapable. And in dread I looked, frozen in spot.

And then a sweet voice said Wake and I felt my mind slip into consciousness, full of oneiric knowledge.

And in my bed I sat in reverence, in wonder and in dread. My body trembled, my heart beat what seemed to be a thousand beats a minute. The threads of my mind still pulled in a hundred directions and my thoughts were muddled. I got out of the bed on shaky legs and limped to the basin full of water, overflowing like a spring, dripping rivulets over the floor, drenching carpets and glittering like stars in the night sky. I gingerly cupped my hands, took water and dumped it on my hand. The shivering of the dream seemed to leave me slightly, and an innocent laughter was briefly in my ears.

And I stood there as moments passed, and minutes turned into hours, wet and afraid, contemplating the horror of the divine and the diminutiveness of my own existence. I, a king, who ruled a continent, who commanded thousands to die at my bidding, was naught but an ant, judged on a cosmic scale, found unworthy, and yet upon my worthless being was bestowed the attention of gods almighty. And in the light of day, I blinked, and in that brief moment of darkness, the Divine Eye pierced again, darkness and light and a myriad colors swirling in its iris, and in my ears a sound anew, biding me to see the will of the Seven done.

And servants came, with food and drink. I sent them back, set upon my knees and fasted and prayed. The sun crossed the sky and it was midday, and servants came again. I sent them back again.

I left then the room and found my way to the sept, my Kingsguard bewildered at my visage, for I looked half-mad and felt that way. And it was Maiden's Day, and young noble daughters set alight candles at the Maiden's feet and brought garland offerings. And the septon looked confused, and the maidens bewildered, for no man was to set foot inside this day. Yet he was but a priest, and I a king, and he said nought. And in the sound of songs of innocence, sung for the Maiden, I found madness fleeing.

And tears overflowed my eyes and I knelt in front of the Maiden until the sun returned to its home, and the moon glowed brightly through the windows of the sept. And I dreaded sleep, and evaded slumber, fear and horror niggling in my mind. And yet sleep took me.

I woke under a tree. I rose and saw a silver stream, and a cool wind flew forth and a pleasing chill filled the air. And music unspeakably beautiful was heard, and birds danced amidst the trees. And fawns played in the meadows. Sleeping, I dreamed, and in the dreams I slept. And I woke, and my mind was whole again.