A/N:
YO!
How y'all doing today ?
So good to see the notifications back online. (Just for y'all to see how long this one has been in the archives, lol, shit is OLD! Not that old, just a few months)
The present was drifting. Distant from his focus and surroundings.
He did not try to rest again.
He couldn't.
He did not move.
The war in his mind did not allow it. Raging stronger than before.
The light was gone.
He stared at empty space.
Was close to feeling empty anew too.
An empty heart.
An empty purpose.
Hollow. Trapped in a cloud.
A feeling called to him.
A way out of his suffocating grief.
From the weight on his chest.
He wanted both gone. Just like before.
It would be easy to surrender. It was so tempting.
Like falling towards the ocean. All he needed was to let go.
So simple. He could do it. All of this would be over soon.
He closed his eyes.
Yet, when feeling the claws of it coming closer to sink into his very being.
He paused.
Deep within. Or somewhere in the distance.
Another part of him told him differently.
It screamed to him.
What are you doing ?
You fool.
Remember the promise he made.
The final request she had made.
She is gone, what did it matter now ?
Everything.
It mattered everything.
He owned her that much.
He owned to him.
For all they had done for him.
His faith.
Her love.
And he owned to himself too.
It kept replaying in his mind.
All the times he had to fight.
Would it all have been for nothing?
If he lost now, his courage soon would follow.
His strength.
His pride.
His will.
It would be a shame to his ancestors. To his family. To all he had known.
They would curse him.
He would never be welcomed into the beyond when his days come to an end.
No…
No.
He would not falter.
His word would not go broken.
HE would not become broken.
Clarity swans back around him.
He breathed easy anew.
The weight remained, dulled. For the moment bearable.
The night was gone.
Blue overtook black. Cleaning the sky of its stars.
He stood before the bright yellow horizon.
A new dawn had begun.
A new light, revealing a path for the choosing.
He steeled himself, breathing heavily, watching the sunrise.
The flap of small wings, a dot of white, drew his attention.
Birds. Many a flock.
Flying together towards wherever the wind would take them on this day.
He ought to follow their example.
What lied ahead? he could not know.
But forward, he would go.
The air was cool, ever so often with the hints of a chill in it. With the distinctive, earthy smell scent of rainfall heavy in the air. The wind was humming softly.
She was not unfamiliar to it, having lived through the last of years of a prior winter before spring at last arrived. Now it seemed the weather and times themselves were changed. Reversing.
Such a thought was a recurrent thing in Rhaenyra's mind over the past seven days.
She sat against the pale bark of the ancient weirdwood tree, in one of the isolated gardens in the Red Keep. Alicent was at her side, both dressed in similar materials to guard them against the cold. Silently reading one of her many illuminated manuscripts. Rhaenyra did not feel like joining her in it on that morning. Instead looking through what remained of the trees once full of red blooms after the storm. Her gaze stuck at the ever-moving white cloud-filled sky that hung over King's landing. Not what many whished it to be, but none could deny it was preferable compared to its original state.
Yet, it still unnerved many.
She saw it, at the times she was allowed out of her chambers. Maids, servants, knights, lords, ladies, the king's guard, her family, and even the other council members. All of them cast their eyes up over the day's length as if expecting the cataclysm to come down once more on their heads.
While not present to witness it herself at the time, Rhaenyra came to fully understand the scope of it. Rightfully giving them all the reason for such fear and paranoia. As well as the stress of just beginning to deal with the consequences.
Her father, for the time he would join her uncle, her, and her mother for supper, would occasionally touch upon the plans he and the council were discussing and debating. Hoping to find the best solutions and the means to solve the gigantic mess in their hands.
The prince also dealt with one of his own. Equally as bad as a catastrophe, was the aftermath of it. More especially the aftermath with the people. Golden cloaks were put on extra vigilance in the city. Looking and dealing with any that would see fit to take advantage of the situation.
More than once, Rhaenyra caught him cleaning fresh blood from dark sister.
And at each time, both men arrived looking more tired than she had ever seen any of them before. Judging by the circumstances, peace will be hard and grueling process to be achieved for quite a while.
Their whole family made sure to give each other as much reassurance and comfort as they could. A fixed point to rely on for the upcoming days.
If only she could bask in it wholly as they did. The milk of the puppy given to her for pain in her ears was also what allowed her for a single night of rest. Lest she be plagued by the same nightmare.
She flinched subtly, a cold from within blooming when remembering the flashes of the memories.
Alicent took notice of it, lifting her gaze from the pages, face with worry.
"Perhaps we should go back inside?" She suggested gently.
In the healing routine the maester established for her, one of the topics was staying in mostly warm ambiance. The city was nowhere near as cold as the northern regions. Still, the rain and the drop of temperatures could cause minor arches and tension in fresh wounds. Rhaenyra experienced some of them, a great nuisance they were.
Yet.
"If I stay inside any longer, I'll jump from the nearest window I can find." Rhaenyra replied, looking at her.
"Rhaenyra!" Alicent exclaimed at the statement.
"You know I hate being locked in a single place too long."
"And you know you have to endure it for now."
"Unfortunately…"
It was a feat on its own that her mother even allowed what she doing at the moment. For the first days, the queen would not let her daughter out of sight for long. In addition, they were still arguing her return to the skies with Syrax. With Aemma, heatly declaring it was out of the question. And Rhaenyra countered with all she could. She was a dragon. Born to cross the air freely. Not meant to be chained like a dog in the ground.
And, secretly, she would need Syrax for the days to come. Not just for herself as well.
All in all, she experienced first-hand what her father had once commented of both of them sharing the same stubbornness.
Gods, was she really that bad most times? She would have to apologize to her father when the opportunity arrived.
With a small sigh, she craned her head back to the heavens. Her thoughts of Syrax made her voice out-loud.
"I wonder how she is doing."
"Who ?" Alicent asked.
"Syrax."
The dragon keepers reported to her daily about the dragon's health and recovery. She was making good progress physically. Eating well. Sleeping for most of the day. Yet, the lightning wound saw that it would take a full moon, at least, for her to fly again. And that she had luck at her side as well. A little more towards either right or left, at best, she very well would have lost her entire wing. At worst, and the keepers even tried to make it less terrible, with little success, her death would have been a quick one.
Both she and Syrax got the best outcome of them all in the end.
It was both reassuring and complication. Worry grew each day within her. And, in some quick, and strange moments, she felt as if Syrax was feeling the same as her. The fear that slowly ate away the mind. She could not know for certain, being so far away.
However, Rhaenyra, no matter how desperate, would never cause her dragon any harm, no matter how small it could be.
She settled to wait for the next moon to pass, until Syrax regained her full health back. It would be enough to perhaps and hopefully change her mother's mind.
Then it would be time.
Alicent took a while, but then she spoke in an encouraging tone.
"She is strong Rhaenyra." She stated. "Last I saw, she appeared to be growing quickly. No doubt, she will soon be as large as Caraxes. Give it time, and you both will forget any of this has ever happened."
Oh, how she wished she could.
Trying to block the image, Rhaenyra used Alicent's words to comment.
"She will also be big enough to saddle two." She pointed out with a smile, turning to her. "Perhaps you shall be first to have the honor?"
Alicent returned the smile, but Rhaenyra knew it was not a fully honest one, seeing her shake ever so slightly at the question. She realized right away that the answer was a no.
It was one of the first things they talked about while she rested in her chambers. Of how Alicent waited for her to return from her flight. Only to almost be caught in the chaos and raging fire as the dragons busted out of the pit. It was thanks to Ser Harrold's quick actions that she was not a stomped or a carbonized body in the yard.
And that she found enough cover to wait for the storm to pass.
Whatever chances there were of Rhaenyra taking both in a ride were extinguished right at that moment. Part of the dream she had made for the two of them together.
"I believe I am quite content as a spectator, thank you" Alicent replied, just putting a final confirmation on the assumption.
Rhaenyra expected her to return to her pages, putting an end to the topic. Instead, it was she who now took a moment to gaze upwards. The wind softly blowing her red hair nearly hid her whispered question.
"What do you really think it was ?" The princess knew right away, to what she referred. "Those of the faith called it a sign, an omen from the gods. Not sure if it was a good or bad one. Father even mentioned that, just a day ago, scholars had sent ravens, asking permission to study and document the aftermath." One aspect that lifted Rhaenyra's father's spirit was that it did not take long for the ravens to start flying again. She imagined that one could drown in the countless parchments being sent from all corners of the realm. Or, at least, most parts of it. Some regions north and dragon stone were still to be reached. Though, for the latter, a ship was already on its way per her father's command. "Still, all are in the dark about it."
How would Alicent look at her if she just spoke the truth?
Would she think it a jest? Scoff, and state that it was another example of her not taking most matters seriously.
Would she actually go against the pre-judgment and end up believing her words ?
Or would she immediately drag her inside, calling for the maester for all to hear?
"I think it was just a storm." She decided to not take her chances. "A big one, yes, but just a storm. They come and go as they always do."
Alicent seemed to reflect on her answer, running a hand over the book's pages.
"Then I pray to never see another such as that again."
You could be in for something far worse. Rhaenyra darkly reflected. If that thing could cause such a tempest, there is no way to knowing what else it could do.
Rhaenyra reached out, placing a hand over Alicent's. "I am sure it won't happen again." She tried to give her some momentary peace at least. Maybe even some to herself too.
Alicent copied the gesture, now giving a true smile to the princess.
Both then settled in silence afterward, back to their previous individual doings.
It was soon broken.
The approaching sounds of steps against grass and stone made them look over the garden's passageway. There they saw Daemon heading their way.
He did not don the city's watch armor now. Suited in a fine, but casual tunic, with long red sleeves. His hand rested upon the pommel of his sword. A dagger was secured at his belt. And a small wooden box occupied his other hand.
Curious…
Both of them had already risen to their feet by the time he came to a stop in front of them.
"Uncle." Rhaenyra greeted him with a simple nod, hands behind her back.
"Good morrow, my Prince." Alicent, ever polite, bowed in respect, although stiffly.
From what Rhaenyra many a time saw of Otto and her uncle's animosity, she could say that Alicent shared in her father's weariness, but did not outright despise him. Not that he ever gave her a reason. For all of his open insults to the king's hand, Daemon has paid never Alicent much mind. Perhaps due to their friendship.
There was amusement in his eyes, as he raised a brow at Alicent's greeting. "Good has not been a fitting term for a while." He said, quickly jerking his head to the clouds. Alicent did not get to try to correct or explain her words, as he looked a Rhaenyra solely now. "I see you have escaped from our dear queen's clutches."
She snorted lightly at the jest. "Only for a little while."
Daemon smirked, offering. "Just say it, and I can find ways for you go where you please."
The previous embarrassment evaporated from Alicent as she opened her mouth to protest against such.
"I'd rather not worry her, or father even more for now." Rhaenyra beat her to it.
"The offer still remains." Daemon put it to her.
"I appreciate it." It may come to be of great use at a later time. To move the conversation away from it, she then asked. "You are usually in the council at this hour uncle. Did something happen that you have need of us?"
"Not necessary." He admitted. "The gold cloaks have no real need of me at the moment. I have already reported to my brother at council just moments ago. And I already had my fill of Otto Hightower's dreadful voice for the day." A quick frown on Alicent's face did not go unnoticed by either of them. Daemon gave it not much care, continuing. "So, I decided to come and see how my niece was doing."
His words were mostly honest. Yet Rhaenyra already suspected there was a hidden motive behind it.
"The maester's treatments have shown results." She answered anyway. "They say at this pace, I shall soon be freed of the pain."
"For their sakes, it better." He threatened casually, murmuring to himself after. She could not make out the words.
Strange. For him to speak in that manner, one of the maesters must have earned his ire. Making a mental note to ask about it later, Rhaenyra's eyes next landed on the box he held.
"And, what is that?" She pointed at it, drawing his attention back.
"Ah, this ?" He smoothly said, lifting it. "I have brought you something." He gave it a short shake. The sound pointing at something solid. Maybe metallic.
Curious indeed.
"What is it ?" Rhaenyra made to take it. But Daemon pulled it out of her reach.
"I would make it for your eyes only." He stated, turning towards Alicent.
To her credit, she understood quickly the masked command to leave.
"O-Of course, my prince." She bowed anew, picking up her book. She stopped only to ask. "I shall see you for our midday meal, Rhaenyra ?"
She confirmed with a nod. "At my mother's chambers."
Her uncle awaited until she was truly out of sight. With a satisfied hum, Rhaenyra watched as he opened the box. From inside he took a small pendant on a chain. The metalwork looks like frozen smoke, a swirling tableau of gray and black. A blood-red ruby was inserted into the pendant. It is a beautiful piece. It would undoubtedly be more beautiful under the sun's light.
He allows her to grasp it this time. Rhaenyra becomes bewitched by it, running a finger over the ruby.
"It reminded me of our house colors." Daemon said. "And fitting for you." She must have spent a long time staring at it by the way he chuckles. "Do you know what it is?"
It was part of the reason she was so enthralled by it.
"It's Valyrian steel." Rhaenyra whispered.
Once, there was an absurd abundance of it. It could be seen in the simplest of objects one could imagine. But now ? Since most of it was lost alongside the land of the dragon lords of old, it was arguably the most rare and valuable metal in all parts of the known world. From the right bidder, Rhaenyra could have enough to build a whole new castle for her own with the pendant.
"Now you and I both own a small piece of our ancestry." Daemon pridefully stated, gesturing to dark sister. He then takes the pendant once more, twirling a finger. "Turn around."
Understanding, Rhaenyra does so, standing still as he fastens it around her neck. The clasp is secure with a click.
"There." He gently runs a hand over her hair to put it in place.
She smiles, looking over her shoulder. "Thank you."
The warmth in his own smile was tempered by a sudden determinate look in his eyes.
"You can give me the truth alongside your gratitude." He spoke in high Valyrian to her.
Rhaenyra's voice died at her throat. Body tensing. Eyes widening. Feeling a new wave of cold pass through her under his gaze.
"W-What? " She almost winced at her own words. "I don't-"
"You are observant." Daemon now said in the common tongue. Ignoring the failed attempted at a reply. "Intelligent. Quick-witted. Passionate." He pulled her shoulder, for her to stand truly face to face with him. His hand remained where it was, firm. "Good qualities to have, even more so in a place like this." King's landing was not also known as the 'viper's nest" for nothing. "Still, you have much to learn in lying. It may be enough to fool others. But not me."
The closing of her eyes and her shoulders slumping may have been all the confessing he needed.
"Now tell me, truthfully, what happened with you and Syrax that day ? Or at least, give me the full story." He switched back to Valyrian.
Nothing but the wind made a sound between them. Her uncle was as a statue, unmoving, waiting. Eyes hard and focused. The choice before Rhaenyra was not simple by any stretch. It is not even a matter of choice anymore, she pointed out to herself. She would only leave after he had what he wanted. A small part of Rhaenyra was aware of the possibility of this outcome coming to reality.
"…You will think me mad." She replied, also in Valyrian, testing his possible reaction.
Daemon remained unbothered. "I will be the judge of that."
Rhaenyra bit her lip, looking around. Seeing no one else nearby, she reluctantly let whatever would happen in the hands of the gods.
"A monster caused the storm."
Gone was the steel focus of his face. Replaced by shock as his head lightly snapped back. His hand threatened to fall from her shoulder. A toned down version of what she imagined. However, the fact he did not rush to speak, and kept eying her, gave Rhaenyra the sign that he was at least taking it seriously. To waste nor the chance or time, she started from the beginning.
First recapping her morning flight with Syrax over the bay, showing him the version she told her father was mostly honest. It was the part of her accident that it all changed.
"Syrax stopped flying, she became aggressive. At first, there was nothing else with us. But I knew not to take the risk. I tried to get her to move, but she did not obey. Then we both heard a sound, coming from the sea. And I finally saw it." She had to pause for a moment, bringing the memories to forefront. "It was it taller than anything I've ever seen. We were literally in its shadow."
She continued describing it, in all the details she could. Strangely, as she went on, sharing the secret that weight so heavy, there was a wave of relief coursing through. But while she felt more at ease, Daemon's inward feelings were crashing against his attempts to remain neutral. The shock from before coming back stronger, cracking the mask of his face bit by bit.
When Rhaenyra ended telling everything, his hand, once holding on to her, now hanged by limply by his side. He turned agitated. Jaw tight. Gaze spread, focusing on all and nothing at the same time. He struggled to form words, as much as he seemed to want to, by the opening and closing of his lips.
She could only imagine he would shallow an entire bottle of wine in one sip if it was offered. At the same time, she was glad he looked like to believe her.
"A challenge…" Came out a murmur from him, a tone of realization over it.
"What ?" Rhaenyra leaned forward.
"Rhaenys." Daemon revealed. "Viserys told me that, as we were both getting Caraxes and Meleys under control, what she believed to have caused them to be so enraged. A challenge, she called it…..And they would not look away from the sea."
Her eyes widened at the new information. At first, when hearing about the chaos in the pit, she had thought it as a result of the storm. But no, all of the dragon felt it. And she was leagues away. That would mean…
She brought a hand to her mouth. A haunted expression growing.
Dragon-stone may be very well make more justice to its name. Now being a dragon ruled keep. With nothing but ash and burning rock.
The ship sent better return quickly with news.
With the flexing of his fist, and a grim look, Daemon showed that he was similar in his thoughts.
Yet, he had found the strength to continue.
"…You said it had blue fire around it?" He forced out a question.
"Yes." Rhaenyra took her time, but in the end nodded. Casting out the next one she felt it was coming. "It was no dragon, uncle." He blinked at her at in surprise at the accurate guess. "I assumed the same at first. But, if it really was one, we would have heard about it by now, or even years ago." There was no way to know the creature's true age, but for it to have such a size, there had to be a few decades in its life. For dreaded anew to imagine if it was still an infant. "When you looked at Aenar's writings, did it have any mention of something like it?"
Aenar Targaryen was lord of their house centuries ago. In addition, history would also remember him, as one of their saviors.
The other would be his daughter, Daenys, the dreamer.
She was the one who had a dire premonition of the incoming doom that annihilated the Valyrian peninsula, and all of its citizens with it. Her father took the warning to heart. For months, he made many preparations. Gathering all they possessed. Selling their keeps and lands. All for them to leave their motherland and sail to dragon stone for safety.
Everything they currently knew about Valyria was thanks to his scrolls, journals, and private writings. From how their society used to be. To great events that had taken place before and during his lifetime there.
Proud as he ever was in their heritage, Daemon devoured the contents many a time. From what her father commented, it was one of the few lessons he actually put effort in when young.
Now, however, proving her right, all of that knowledge failed with a simple shake of his head.
"Not any that I can remember." Daemon admitted, before pointing out. "But don't disregard the possibility of it being a dragon. Or some form of one."
She squinted in doubt at him. "And why is that ?"
"Valyria." He said to her.
Again, she did not understand. "You believe it to have come from there ? Uncle, there is nothing left in the ruins. And no living breathing being could survive."
Daemon now huffed, disappointment in his eyes. "No one has told you yet."
"Told me what ?"
He did not give a straight answer. "I'm not surprised your parents didn't mentioned. It was a terrible thing that happened to her."
"Daemon, who are you –"
"For now, just know that Valyria is not an empty waste land as many would have you think." His interruption sent a new shiver through her. Silently she stared at him, mouth slightly open. Just how many revelations will she have today? "There are shadows moving in that place, ruling over the ruins, hidden under the smoke. Life finding a twisted way to press on in the darkness. And horrors that are better off left alone."
Something between disbelief and utter horror made her thoughts scatter. Only one helped as anchor in the confusion.
"You…You saw it." It came as a proclamation instead of a question.
Nonetheless, her uncle gave her a grim nod. "More than once."
That is why he believed her so quickly and easily. He already knew it in some form.
Rhaenyra had always wondered how far his travels took him. Across the narrow sea and beyond. Bringing back gifs from regions she never even heard of. Yet, not once, she thought Daemon would consider Valyria a place to explore.
And for it to make him of all people turn away. It may very well prove one of the many theories used to explain the doom's cause. The dragon lords dug too deep. Unleashing one the hell's wrath into the mortal world. Their end serving as a punishment for it.
A dark, breathless and hysterical laugh threatened to make its way out of her mouth.
Between the monster being some cursed abomination giving life by the land or a hell spawn, she did not know what was worst.
She must have been shaking. For Daemon's hand found itself on her shoulder once more.
"Focus. Breathe"
Rhaenyra had half a mind to snap at him. It was very much hard to keep focus with all she learned. However, she held her tongue back, cooled the dragon's blood inside her. And drew in a great inhale of air. Repeatedly, one after the other.
He must have felt it was enough, giving her a content hum. "Good."
The moments of silence after felt too oppressive even if her heart had calmed itself. "What can we do ?" It was perhaps what she questioned herself the most for the last days. Close to the point of begging for an answer.
Her uncle's lips pressed together, with him staring far into the distance. The flexing of her hands was the sole action making her control the urge to ask it again.
He reflected, before asking. "It was gone when you came to, right?"
"Yes."
"Then looking for it now would be a waste."
Rhaenyra understood that. It could already be beyond their reach even with the dragons. It did not stop frustration from growing inside.
"We can't just stand still doing nothing." She argued.
"And we won't." Daemon looked almost offended by the notion. "But, do tell me, before I arrived, what did you planned to do about it?"
She hesitated to reply. Imagining the many ways he would chastise her for it. Bare bones as it was, the idea was all she had.
"I would wait until my healing was complete. Then I would…Look for answers. Maybe with luck, find it -."
"And then what?" He raised a brow, interrupting.
"Prove its existence!"
Trying anything by herself. To move against it alone. It would be as kissing an executioner's blade before it removed her head from her body. She was not so foolish. At least, she could show them that a possible and terrible threat lurked around, unknown and unseen.
"It is all I could think of." She admitted, lowering her gaze, waiting for whatever Daemon would speak next. It can be safely stated that she did not expect what it ended up being.
"…Leaves some of it for chance, but not half bad." He stated simply.
Rightfully surprised, she looked at him, a feeling of hope lighting up in her chest.
"Then…will you join me ?" Rhaenyra dared to believe.
"No."
It was like a slap to the face.
"B-but, you just-"
"Your plan has merit to it." He first pointed out. "But think. You are not common folk. You are a princess. Already you can't just go wherever you may please, not yet. And as of now, neither my brother nor the queen would let you go as far as to the kitchens alone. Flying to look for it will be near impossible. For me ? Like it or not, the city watch needs me more than ever. I can't just disappear on a whim." She hated that it was true. "Now, for the other part? That can be used. You have the excuse of your healing. Take that time, find as much as you possibly can. Scrolls, books, whatever. Say it is to distract you. As entertainment for incoming days. Hardly anyone will suspect or deny you such with how distracted all of them are. I will do the same when the opportunity arrives."
The truth and knowledge would be their sword for the moment. Rhaenyra reflected on his words. Part of her craved to go out. And in listening to it, the details became easy to ignore and forget. Bobbing her head in acceptance of the course of action they would follow, one thought remained.
"After that. How do you think we could find it ?" Worried, she had to ask.
The look in Daemon's face did not alleviate those feelings.
"If it is a big as you said. If it is what I think it is. Then worry about it finding us first."
She laid in rest.
The pain became less excruciating each day.
Yet it still burned from time to time.
The wingless ones would often make it better.
However, pain she could endure.
Syrax missed her girl the most.
And she felt it was the same for her, each time she reached out.
Blood of her blood. More than she knew.
The longing. The feeling of being trapped.
So fierce and fragile.
So full of life. A life she would die to preserve.
Above all else, Syrax felt she worried. She feared.
Even more both were sharing.
Sleep would not come inside the cavernous nets on that day.
Her burning wound and unquiet heart would not allow it.
Thus, she sensed the ground tremble, raising her head. The sound of dragging chains.
Against the shouts and commands of the wingless ones inside their lair, ignoring their strange sticks aimed at them, they came to her.
Meleys and Caraxes.
Both came closer, and laid beside her.
The wingless ones left all three be as none gave them attention for long.
All of it was just for her.
The great queen offered comfort. Safety. As if she was her own child.
The vicious warrior, protection. He stayed vigilant as the moon fell. Not letting any get close to their circle.
She was thankful. For the company.
And so were they.
For long, they talked. Of what she saw with her own eyes. What they felt.
Each with a shared conclusion.
The stories were real.
The songs passed to Balerion, next to Vhagar, and finally, to them.
The old ones had spoken of a time long past and forgotten. Before the end. When their ancestors ancestors roamed the skies.
A time of battles made the seas boil, the earth crack, and the skies burn.
A time of despair, loss, and war.
A war, which it still lingers to this day.
A war for their very land.
A war against invaders, that came from the deep.
They believed most of them had been gone for generations now. Until then, possibly only legends and tales.
Now a new on rose.
With a might unseen by any of them.
Syrax had never felt so small before, being under its gaze. She told of the sense of shame in feeling so frightened.
The queen's wing cradled her as she spoke.
Only a fool would judge her for feeling such, Caraxes had said. She had their ferocity, but she did not even know true battle yet. What could they expect her to do?
Again, she thanked both.
But in the end, she still wearily wondered.
Do any of them have a chance against this new foe?
The queen and the warrior could not answer that truly.
Now, as another day came to end, and she closed her eyes to slumber, Syrax did as they told her.
All they could do was be alert. Rest. Stand ready.
Pray for the fourteen.
And pray the most for All-Father.
To give them strength for whatever may come.
He was drenched. By the salt water or his own sweat? The man could safely bet his savings on it being both.
He paused the twisting and pulling of ropes held in his hands, neck craning up, eyes almost closing shut under the sun's light. Even after years of sailing, enduring against it, the mid-day hour was one he had nothing but contempt in his heart. His scalp itched. His head felt heavier. And there were no clouds in sight to give a few precious moments of relief or cover against today.
Isn't that just fucking a joy ?!
To distract himself for the hourly bitterness, he casts his attention to deck around. Like him, the crewmembers were wall at focus in their own task. Many ran up and down, back and forth across the wooden floors beneath their feet. Shouts and exclamations overlaid between themselves. The wild waves, oars beating against them. And the roaring wing pushing their bright blue sails forward. The image of a great seahorse proudly on display for it. For how exhausting the sun could be, they were making good time to reach their journey's end.
A one-year voyage he and his crew went. Far towards the top of the world, into Braavos waters, further and they would almost close of reaching the northern regions before returning.
Strong winds, and an even stronger ship.
As expected for one serving under the Sea Snake.
He'd be able to count on a single hand the number of seafarers who would pass on the opportunity to do so. A man who's travels over the known world made him a fortune? A descended of the same homeland as the Targaryens? One of the most powerful houses in all kingdoms?
Make all the right decisions, and your chances of high rewards, fame, or an easy life, would all be within grasp.
He very much settled for the latter.
Better to have food on his table, and a roof over his family's heads.
Hells, how he longed to reach solid land.
No offense to his comrades, that lot was one he had nothing but pride in serving alongside them. However, do try to sleep in a single room with ten others around you. He was ready to break the nose of whoever said it was of no bother.
His boys would definitely be older. The oldest men now. The youngest of them mayhaps already walking on his own. Just like his little girl. Each of them would come to him like moths to a fire. For gifs, stories, and wishes to join him next on the ship.
His wife would give him much grief for leaving her to deal with them all by herself. He would not blame her one bit. Maybe both would get a true night of rest together in bed.
Yes. That is a night he looked forward.
A quick and mildly heavy hit on the back snapped him back. Head jerking around, he found the responsible standing over him, with an entertained smile on their face, the wind blowing their shoulder length brown hair to the side.
"All well in there, mate?" He asked as if holding a laugh.
Someone else beat him in replying to it.
"Probably thinking of his lady!" A burly and bald man a few feet away from them exclaimed. The shout drew many an amused eye. "Look at that face! Ain't it right Seaworth?!"
Once again Jorvarn Seaworth is the victim of his crew. He groaned loudly at the antics. Their laughs covered the entire deck, top to bottom. Again, as many times during this journey, he wished they would be thrown overboard by the ship's yaws.
To think he was the chief mate for god's sake!
Yes, yes, laugh it up you cunts. He shook his head, yet deep inside, he laughed with them. It was his own fault for being carried away by his thoughts in the open.
"Now, now, Culler." Tadd Cray, one of his closest friends and the ship's first mate said, waving off the jests, even if partaking in them. "Where's your lady for you to think of?"
That drew another laugh for the man.
"Oh, just waiting for me back home. ALL of them are!"
The crew gave out a loud shout. Arms shooting in the air cheer.
Impossible, each one of them.
Before the banter could continue on, a strong voice called out from above them.
"If you want to see your lady or ladies soon lads!" Their captain shouted, hands gripping the wheel tightly. "Then let us keep our focus!"
He was the third captain Jorvarn has served under in his life. Born in a ship and married to the sea. His copper skin showed the years he had sailed. Wrinkles around his eyes. A grey hair tied behind his head, with a long beard to match it. Easy to approach and open minded, but still a true professional of his career. Every word he said was law. And every time he spoke, all listened.
It wasn't different on this occasion.
"Aye, captain!" Jorvarn and the rest of crew replied, returning to their work. However, he didn't get much further with it.
"Cray, Seaworth!" Both turned as the captain called out again, to them this time. "A word!" He signaled with his head. A private word.
They shared a quick glance, before silently walking up the steps to meet him. Jorvarn appreciated the small break, rubbing his hands together to lessen the coarse feeling of holding the ropes for long.
"Yes, captain?" Tadd addressed the man with a short nod. Jorvarn doing the same afterwards.
Over the sounds around the ship, his normal voice was greatly muffled. Without turning, he again gestured for them to get closer.
"I know of everyone's wishes to go home." He first put it to them, before a somber tone came into his voice. "But I meant what I said about keeping our focus."
"Is it because of the news ?" Tadd guessed.
"Aye." The captain confirmed.
The occupation of the step-stones by Triarchy held an additional weight for those who roamed the sea. No one in the crew would mourn the pirate scum being wiped out from the islands. That would be a time for drinking and making merry.
The problem for them was what came after.
Their centers and domains are being taken over, their loots and treasures abandoned and in the hands of new owners. Where would they go with those two in question? Without the capability of getting, any of them back.
Straight to the narrow sea.
Once or twice, they would cross paths with a pirate ship, be it in the distance, or actually engage with it. Those were lone ships, something they were well equipped to deal with. However, at any given time in the future, there could be three or more together. And unlucky would be the ones on such an encounter.
Lord Velaryon was nothing but direct with the matter. The captain heard of his warnings just in time before they left the last port. Any moment later, they would be clueless.
"Tis why I want the lads to be alert for the next days." The captain stated, turning away from the sea to stare at them. "Don't want any surprises just as this voyage is coming to its end. Understand?"
"Aye, captain," Jorvarn said. "I'll let them know."
"Good." The captain then turned to Tadd. "And also tell them to row a little faster in a few moments. Open the rest of the sails with what you have to. Let's use the winds as much as it allows us" His gaze shifted to the east in the distance, as if he seemed to search for something. "Can't stay on these waters for long."
Jorvarn swallowed, following the captain in watching the open sea. He sees Tadd doing the same.
If there are two lessons any type of sailor should learn, is that danger as more than one faces in this place. And parts of the ocean were being beyond the sovereignty of any man.
"W-we will see it done." Tadd shook his head, pulling Jorvarn by the arm to deck bellow to spread the captain's orders.
He went to his original standing, hearing the first mate's shouts traveling over the ship, with the crew responding right after. In a few moments, he felt their speed picking up, holding into the starboard for balance.
"Oi, Jorvarn, why the haste all of the sudden?" Another crewmate at his left, Croll, asked, after finding some support himself.
"Captain's orders. Wants us out of these parts quick." Jorvarn said.
"Them pirates' bastards?"
"Not yet." Before the man could get the dreadful implication, he used to question to add. "But speaking of them. Spread the word, we're doubling the watches for the next few days. Eyes on everything day and night. I'll be organizing the turns later tonight."
"Got it." He got a sharp nod in affirmation. And true to the command, started speaking with the others right away. Soon, he saw the effect spreading across the deck, some with questions on their faces, but no debating against it. Good to see. One of the things that gets one killed is a crew with their heads stuck up on their own arses.
Tadd came into view, walking up from the lower deck. He cups his hands around his mouth. "We're at full speed, captain!"
"Good work!" The captain exclaimed. "Keep strong at it lads, you will be kissing the ground soon!"
A new wave of cheers went over the ship at his words.
Jorvarn gave a satisfied nod looking around. Crouching, he went to grasp the ropes, finishing them up, and then he would be moving towards the front bow for a quick check on their ballistas, som -
BAM!
Suddenly the ship lurches to a stop. A violent one. Screams and shouts go out as the crew were thrown in the air, crashing hard against the deck, side bows, crates, and each other.
Jorvarn's fall makes the floor rush up to meet his back. On instinct, he moves sideways, arms braced in defense for his head. He hits and pain instantly spreads. He groans through gritted teeth, cursing non-stop. He does not feel anything broken or out of place. Yet his vision is faintly blurred.
He could not stay like that for long.
With a rash shake of his head, Jorvarn breathed deeply, hands bracing against the floor, pushing himself up using all the strength he had.
Commotion and noise were at an all-time high around him. Some of the crew were coming to themselves, others rushing from below deck to see what was happening. Tadd holding unto a box to rise to his feet. The captain himself joined them, screaming out orders Jorvarn had trouble listening over all of the chaos.
Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Croll slipping while trying to get up. He went to him, offering a hand. Croll took it with no hesitation.
"Anyone hurt?!" The captain descended upon the deck and shouted to the crew. Cries of no's and waves off went out.
"Fuck just happened?!" He asked after getting his balance.
His voice must've been one of the loudest.
"We must have hit a reef!" Someone away from view suggested.
"A reef ?" The captain repeated, shocked by the mere notion. He did not dwell on it for too long, before pointing at the front row. "Culler! See how damaged we are." He turned to one of the crewmates below. "You! Get the buckets and new planks if we have any leaks down there, GO!"
"Yes, captain!"
Jorvarn watched them go, before noticing that Tadd approached.
"All's good?" He asked.
"I'll live. You?"
"Same. Croll?"
"Still in one piece." The man rolled his shoulder, rubbing the back of his neck.
Tadd nods in acceptance of their words, before walking and looking over the rail, down at the waters.
"Strange…" Jorvarn heard him say after a period.
"What ?"
"Can't remember of any reefs in those parts." Tadd said. A deep frown on his face.
Croll made a face, snorting. "Well, guess we were the lucky ones to find it." His voice was filled with irony.
Tadd had no reply to it, and Jorvarn saw many thoughts going through in the first mate's eyes.
It started to unnerve him quickly.
Before he could ask, the captain called.
"Cray! Take the wheel. When I say, turn hard to port, then starboard, and back again!"
"Aye!" He shared one last warning look with Jorvarn before rushing up to the wheel.
It only deepened the unsettling feelings rising within him. Following in the action, he watched the water crashing against the ship. He wrecked his mind, and, like that Tadd, he had no recollection of any reefs in that area. And they had passed through it many a time over the years. Now they suddenly find one?
No.
Jorvarn set his mouth in a line.
Something was wrong. Very wrong.
"OI! Do we have any leaks ?!" He jolted at the captain's scream.
"Not one, captain!" The crewmember screamed back from bellow. "We are intact."
"Uh, probably not a big reef." Even with the firmness in his tone, and the coolness of his expression, Jorvarn noticed that the captain turned more confused by the report than before. Big or small, they should not, by any means, be intact after crashing against a reef at the speed they were going.
"Captain!" A new shout came from the bow. Culler was waving rapidly from his position, drawing attention.
"Culler, what can you tell me?"
"I….I don't know how to explain it, captain."
Several heads turned to him. Jorvarn felt his heart starting to sink in dread.
"Just speak, out with it." The captain commanded.
"There is…nothing, captain." Culler said.
"Nothing ?!" The captain was in disbelief. "What you mean, nothing ?!"
"I mean it truly." Culler stated. "There is nothing in the water. There is nothing ahead of the ship. We have hit nothing!"
An oppressive and deafening silence took control over the ship. No one had any words to say. Looks were exchanged between the crew. Each hoping to find an answer. An explanation to Culler's reveal.
Jorvarn paled. Heart hammering away. Wide-eyed, his head snapped towards Tadd. He had the same haunted look.
Gods, what was happening ?!
All of the crew were rightfully on edge. The tension could be cut with the smallest of daggers. And the simplest of sounds could set all them on like fire in oil.
Many outright jumped, hearing a loud sound coming from the right.
They turned just in time to see a large amount of water erupt out of nowhere. It rose many feet above them before coming down with a hard splash. Almost all of the men, the captain, and Tadd included, rushed in its direction. Some pushing others in the front to get a better look. Others trying to lift themselves over the many heads blocking the way. Questions were thrown out anew. A conjunction of voices.
Jorvarn and a few others remained where they stood. The sound was so loud, they couldn't almost hear their own thoughts.
He doubted the captain or Tadd could be reached in that cluster. He'd had to count on those who remained behind.
"Croll, listen, there's something….." Jorvarn's voice died with gasp, as he turned to address the man. But he was nowhere to be found! "Croll ?!" He calls in shock, looking in every direction for him. To no avail.
However, what he does find, is one of their young sailors looking at him. A lad of just seven and ten. He was frozen in place. Mouth opened. Breathing so erratically his entire body waved. Before Jorvarn could ask what had gotten the boy so spooked, he slowly lifted a shaking arm up, pointing behind the older man.
Jorvarn looks at that direction.
At first, there was nothing but blue.
Yet, the building turmoil inside reaches its peak.
A scream.
So loud, it overthrew the voices of the crew.
Every eye turns after hearing it. And every voice falls silent once again.
Croll had been found. Standing over the ship.
Held in the grasp of an enormous bronze tentacle.
Their mystery's answer.
Said thing waved in movement, displaying red jagged sharp edges protruding along its length.
Jorvarn and all others visibly saw its muscles tense as it performed a backward arc. The point holding Croll closing on itself.
It squeezed.
Croll's screams came to an end. The two halves of his body fell separately into the sea with a gush of blood and guts following.
The tentacle slapped down, disappearing beneath.
With the violent thudding on his chest, Jorvarn could not tell who screamed the name of one of the creatures of legend that haunted the seas.
"KRAKEN!"
The arms of the huge creature swooped up on both sides of the ship. Dragging themselves slowly to the deck. Those watching it from the windows in the one bellow dropped in fright. Pulling away as much as they could as the weight and strength from each caused the wood to bend and sink beneath them.
Those above scattered about. The captain screamed out rapid commands. Is was a race against the short time they had. Large containers were torn open, and the crew armed themselves. Axes, spears, swords, and hammers.
Those already with weapons in hand moved to form defensive lines. On both sides of the ship against the upcoming attack. Trembling before such a being, but holding firm.
"Once you see the tentacles, attack on sight! This bastard gets a hold on us, we drown!" The captain stated. "Culler, to the ballista, NOW!"
Being so close to it gave him more time to set up the weapon, and their best chance in the fight. With grunt, he lifted one of the few heavy bolts they had, locking it in position to fire. He had just put his aim at ready when they came.
The tentacles reached over the rail. Some find solid surfaces, others keep on rising and rising in non-stop movement.
Fear threatened to grip the crew in full, as many took steps back. It was also the spark to get them to action.
The young lad, standing on the right, was the first.
He shouted loudly, lifting his spear. His thrown hit true. The spear latched itself inside one of the Kraken's suckers, drawing blood. The tentacle trashed in pain, and a loud groan could be heard coming from beneath.
The fire was lit.
"ATTACK!"
Emboldened by the captain's cry and the lad's actions, the crew advanced.
More spears were thrown at the arms. Both find their marks and missing by large and short distances. Meanwhile, with cries of their own, members in the position of close-quarter combat weapons rushed in against the tentacles laying down on the deck's surface. They hack and slash at them with all their might. Jorvarn and Tadd were side-by-side, wildly swinging overhead strikes. The blows cut through flesh, ink-black blood leaking and spreading. But the Kraken's hard hide makes it difficult to cut deep and truly wound it. Even taking damage, the crew sees the arm staying in place against the onslaught they unleashed on it. A thread of hopelessness appears in their hearts. However, they continue with no pause.
"Let go! You fuck!" Jorvarn strikes with his axe in particular hard blow, the rage over Croll's demise fuelling him. More blood comes forth, drops of it landing on his face. Yet strong the tentacle remained.
Same could be said on the opposite side. No matter how many spears were thrown, the creature showed no signs of backing away.
The captain, watching over the field of their battle notices their dire situation.
He had hoped at first for the kraken would of the ones who were unable to take much damage. As luck would have it, they ended up with one of the tough ones. The last resort it was.
"CULLER!" He points his sword at the ballista, moving towards one of the tentacles next. "Make all of them count!"
"My pleasure, captain." The man sharply nodded, and whispered to himself. He locked on one target of his choosing.
He breathed in.
And let it loose.
SHOOSH!
The bolt cut through the air. Hitting its mark dead on.
The Kraken roared as the sharp steel point not only pierced deep, but also flew cleanly through its arm. The tentacle moved away from the ship, a man-sized hole present on what used to be one of its suckers for all to see. It hovered before going under the water.
Not cheers or complements were voiced. Yet all of the members felt courage grow inside. And hope.
Culler was quick to pick another bolt and reload. His aim now went to the one Jorvarn and Tadd were dealing with.
Again, it was a perfect shot.
The bolt went through flesh and wood. A shower of blood covered those near. The tentacle at last let go of the deck.
The Kraken's arms all lifted from the deck, curling tightly like fists. Breaths of relief started to pour from the crew as they watched the dammed things move away. Their survival and victory could be at hand.
Yet, in the silence that followed, they did not drop their guards. Weapons held aloft. The ballista ready to fire anew.
The captain stared hard at their foe. Before he and the rest had to cover their ears.
A roar of pure and raw anger boomed from the waters.
He was a hunter of the deep. Prowling freely in his domain. Rarely challenged.
He was born with a purpose.
He had planned to drag the ship down in its grasp. Sink it and those inside to his domain, as he did with countless others.
To carry on the extermination of the mortal vermin as it was commanded to him along with the others of his kin. He found great amusement in his task. In the desperation. In the frails attempts at stopping him.
However, this one had actually hurt him. Wounded him.
He would heal, not long after. Still, their audacity could not. And would not, go answered.
If the pathetic humans onboard had such bravado. He would see its merit tested.
Back on the ship, Jorvarn watched with not small horror as the tentacles, instead of retreating to the sea as expected, instead winded up in the ship's direction. He had only as breath's time to yell at the crew. "DUCK!"
In newfound speed and savage ferocity, the tentacles surged forward, with the intent of returning the pain suffered tenfold.
The lower deck was breached. The arms broke through, tearing the walls apart as if they were not even there. Nothing was left unchecked in their wake. From the inside, the ship was coming apart. The men ran for their lives as the vicious attack already had claimed many lives of their own. Those who were not fast enough, ended up caught right in the tentacle's path. Pushed by them until they found the walls. Squashed to a red paste of bone and gore against them. The tentacles picked up many who were unlucky enough to be in their reach. Some were pulled,and thrown at great distances into the open waters. One in particular was caught upside down, his body not passing fully in the hole at once. However, the Kraken did not stop dragging its victim. The man's screams ceased when his torso finally passed, leaving his torn head and legs behind.
It was a similar nightmare above.
Not only was the Kraken breaking them physically, it was breaking their illusions. All the damage they have caused against it was an effect of it allowing them to.
Where once they had the opportunity and space to engage, now they are as its playthings.
None had time to dare raise their weapons. The tentacles stroke hard and fast. Batting, smashing them under their strength and weight. And tossing them away like scraps of a plate. Jorvarn had to throw himself down many a time, watching helplessly as his comrades died one by one in the chaos around him. Screaming for help and in desperation.
Running along the deck, he stopped just as a tentacle smashed through the side. It missed him, but force pushed him away nonetheless. Landing near the steps leading to the wheel. He got a clear view of all that was taking place.
He saw the captain holding on amidst it all. But couldn't make out a word he said. Following where he was looking at, Jorvarn's eyes came upon Culler in the ballista. The man still remained in his position, ready to fire. Unlike before, there was too much movement and confusion for him to have a sure shoot. The captain shouted again. And Jorvarn understood. In the state, they found themselves in, doing nothing was not a choice.
Therefore, even if hesitant, Culler fired.
The bolt flew.
This time missing.
It passed over a tentacle, leaving a mere bloody scratch in the exterior of its skin.
Already angry and agitated, giving the Kraken more pain turned out to be their greatest mistake.
As if having a mind of its own, the hurt tentacle stops for a few breaths and lunges in Culler's direction. The man turns, making a run for it. The ballista was smashed to pieces behind him. But the tentacle had no plans of allowing the one who gave it such grief to get away.
Culler takes just five steps before his leg gets caught in its grasp. And he suffers the retribution.
Jorvarn watches in repulsion as the tentacle lifts a struggling Culler up in the air. Before bringing him down against the deck. One, two, three, four times and beyond. Only stopping when he at last couldn't take it anymore. The final stroke causes the man's body to explode, leaving bits of his insides spread all over.
He almost vomited right there.
"Jorvarn!" Someone said his name. "JORVARN!"
He looked left, and there was Tadd. His arms went forward, grasping on his shoulders, pulling to get him up. "Move, dammit!" Tadd said. "We can't stay here!"
And where could any of them go? Slowly falling into desperation himself, Jorvarn wanted to ask. Where were they supposed to run?
Nowhere, it seemed the gods took upon themselves to answer. Jorvarn and Tadd froze hearing a new burst in the water. Both looked towards it.
Jorvarn's mind became numb. Tadd lost his hold on him, arms dropping.
They stayed in place, scarce daring to breathe, while the end in the flesh came to greet them. Because it was the end, wasn't it?
That is what both believed. The only thing any believed now.
The attacks and the screams came to a full stop.
Together, the remaining crew witnessed two enormous tentacles rise up. Absolute monstrosities. Everything endured up to that point was the Kraken still going easy on them. Any will the crew held evaporated to dust. Weapons slipped from their hands, what use did they had now, or even at any point? Prayers escaped their lips, asking for mercy, for it to be quick. Jorvarn joins the latter.
For the two hammers of doom from the devil beneath stood ready to crash down upon them.
Their judgment was made.
The tentacles moved down. Their shadows loomed overhead.
A roar comes from the Kraken.
And the tentacles, all of them, are gone.
Not a slow retreat. But a hard pull and a large impact as they go under.
Fear gives way to bafflement. The sudden change causes a couple of the crewmates to fall on their behinds. Some raising hands to their chests to calm a restless heart. The captain is a statue. Jorvarn almost slips as tension leaves, holding for stability in Tadd, who follows the captain in not moving an inch.
Feeling the contact of Jorvarn's hand, he turns his head towards him. A question clear in his slow blinking eyes.
No time was given to ponder it.
Those who were standing came join the ones who did as the ship moves harshly. Not only moves, but also rises up, as a wave forms out of nowhere, pushing it away a couple of meters. The crew ends up paying the occurrence no mind, as new shadow stands over them.
A much bigger shadow.
So large to block the sun itself.
A new rumbling sound covering the air.
As they look up, jaws go down.
In fear and awe, they beheld. Before them was a being that redefined any notion they possessed of the word colossal.
At first, they believe it to be a rock emerging.
It was no rock at all.
Thick grey scales like solidified lava dripping with water, muscular arms, claws like lances and a reptilian face with a small semblance to that of a dragon. Strong legs that stood firm in the water! And two burning coal eyes.
The Kraken was a mighty beast. Frightening and powerful.
However, this one? Any insane and sane sailor would call it a god.
Loud gasps went out, as the proof of the differences between both presented itself.
There, squashed and stuck in the new creature's jaws, is the Kraken.
The one who tormented them until now, finds itself at the mercy of a much greater predator.
Its tentacles trashed pointlessly against the giant's face and neck. And the smallest addition to the pressure of its teeth causes the Kraken to screech in true agony. Jorvarn would be glad to admit the sounds filled him with vengeful satisfaction. Such feelings came to a grand finale.
The giant lifted a single arm towards its mouth, getting a crushing hold on most of the Kraken's tentacles. He sets its maw firmly on the rest of the body.
And pulls.
The Kraken's screeches end instantly as the giant discards the tentacles like waste. Bloody black strands flowing and dripping into the sea. And spits out the rest.
On them.
They scatter out of the way. The Kraken's parts made contact, shaking the ship, and crushing the portion of the deck that it fell on.
None stare at it for long, going back quickly to giant.
They tremble as it looks at them solely, eyes narrowing.
Had they simply exchanged one end for another?
If so, they were truly lost.
The Kraken did all that it did, and it almost whipped them away. And they had the means to at least make it bleed.
There was nothing to use against this behemoth. It would simply need to move forward and crush them.
It crooked its neck. A low growl that shook a man to the bone leaving it.
Then it turned away, lowering its body into the sea, the water parting away as if it was cutting through it.
The last view the crew had of it was an enormous tail with spines lift to the heavens and hit the surface as it disappeared.
In the year 112 A.C scrolls and written declarations would tell about how the remaining 20 survivors, on the ship lead by Captain Mateo Hutter, placed themselves amongst the first ones to come in contact with the, at that time, great unknown sea monster. With Rhaenyra of House Targaryen ranked at the top. Each one called the encounter a harrowing and, in some way, a remarkable experience.
Theirs would be the foundation for the many more to come. And for those who are still being added.
However, future generations of Jorvarn Seaworthy's line would find in his journals a thought he kept hidden with himself until his death:
'I was never a man of faith. Never one to pray. Be it to the seven, or to any other gods that there are. But on that day? I prayed. And I like to think I met one that answered.'
- FIRE AND BLOOD
AAAAAAAND, done. At least this first one.
I'm sure you all have been awaiting ages for this one. And I planned on releasing it out of the gate. Then I stopped, and I stopped and thought for second, dude, you don't even know when you're going to start a another chapter. And there are other stories needing a update.
Post when you have more stuff to show.
So here we are now.
This one in particular I went back and forth with what to put in. After all, this lays a lot of foundation on what the plot and world building would be based upon. Mostly for the our human/Dragon cast. Big G's is still taking his baby steps in the ASOIAF world. And accepting everything.
Life-changing crisis are a bitch right ?
Honestly, the hardest bit was the Syrax's section. Precisely for revealing part of the elements to come(Those made me take some reaaaaly good chunk of time to think about and put in words).
Giving the dragons their own POV's was a tug war. But, then again, some of the fics that inspired this one also have the dragons as their own characters and how they view the world. Besides, if Godzilla, who is also an animal at the end of the days, gets to drive the narrative, why not the winged boys and girls ? Hard, but also had a blast writing it, so, win-win. Do pay attention what they say.
As for the other side. Detective Rhaenyra is on the job! Let's read some books!
Finally, if it wasn't too obvious, the last part of this chapter was me coincidently watching "Dead man's chest" again a few weeks ago…That movie is still so GOOD! Argh!
Going off, but still on topic.
The season finale of HOTD's S2.
Everyone said what they had to say. So I won't spend much in it.
I don't think it was bad, even if I'm REALLY iffy on the final conversation between Alicent and Rhaenyra. But, in terms of like, ending a season, underwhelming. EP 7 would've been a much better and stronger choice to close things this time.
In the other side of the coin, when you remember the entire thing of HBO cutting budgets, the actors and writers strike and Warner being in a really bad place right now. The team had to deal with the hand they were given. They are not free of blame in aspects, no, no. Overall, fingers crossed for a better S3.
(And it better be, because, based on the his last blog post, George ain't finishing the series….FFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFUUUUUUUUU!-)
Anyway, that is all folks.
Hope you enjoyed the chapter.
See ya around for the next one.
PEACE!