The sun hung low over the Narrow Sea, casting golden rays that danced upon the water's surface like scattered coins. Torrhen Stark leaned against the side of the small boat, the salty breeze tousling his dark hair as he gazed out at the horizon. Waves lapped gently against the hull, each rhythmic rise and fall a soothing reminder of the vastness beyond his homeland. He had never ventured far from Winterfell, but here, aboard a vessel manned by the seasoned Ser Barristan Selmy, he felt the pull of adventure tugging at his heart.
Barristan: Do you see it, my lord?
Barristan asked, his voice steady despite the rolling waves. The knight stood tall and proud, a paragon of honor even in the fading light. His silver hair glimmered like spun moonlight, and the scars on his weathered face told tales of battles fought and honor defended.
Torrhen squinted into the distance, where the faint outline of a rocky shore emerged, shrouded in mist. It loomed larger as they drew nearer, a place steeped in whispers and shadows. It was not merely an island; it felt like a destination from a dream, a place he had envisioned countless nights, though its significance eluded him.
Torrhen: Aye
Torrhen replied, though uncertainty stirred in his chest. The stories of his youth spoke of lands far from the North, of places touched by ancient magic and hidden truths. This was one such place, calling to him with an urgency he could scarcely understand.
Barristan: Many would fear such places. But fear, my lord, can be a cloak as well as a chain.
Torrhen nodded, absorbing the knight's words. At just sixteen, he had grown accustomed to the weight of expectations first as the son of Ned Stark, and now as the heir to a legacy entwined with honor and duty. Yet, something stirred within him that defied simple categorization, as if the very blood that coursed through his veins whispered secrets he had yet to comprehend.
Torrhen: Ser Barristan, what do you know of my mother, Ashara Dayne?
Barristan's expression softened, his gaze turning contemplative.
Barristan: Lady Ashara was a woman of grace and depth, my lord. She understood the hearts of men and the weight of dreams. She definitely would have seen in you the potential for greatness, a journey waiting to unfold.
Torrhen: Growing up, I wasn't told much about her, almost nothing really. Father didn't say anything . . . I just wish to know my mother
Tragic fate. The phrase echoed in Torrhen's mind, a reminder of the shadows that danced around his mother's legacy. He had only heard snippets of her story, how she had vanished into the depths of sorrow after the war. His father rarely spoke of her, and even when he did, it was in a manner that suggested a grief too profound to articulate.
Torrhen: What if I am meant for something greater than what is expected of me?
Torrhen asked, the words escaping before he could think to hold them back. His dreams making him think that he is destined for more
Barristan's gaze settled on him, and for a moment, the weight of their shared history hung between them.
Barristan: It is not the expectations of others that define you, Torrhen Stark, but the choices you make. Each decision can lead you to new paths, some filled with light, others shrouded in darkness. The future you seek is not predetermined.
As the boat continued its journey, the sky deepened into hues of purple and crimson. Torrhen turned his gaze back to the shore, the place that beckoned him with an urgency that felt almost tangible. It was as if the land itself whispered secrets, inviting him to uncover truths long buried. Would he find answers there, or merely face the weight of his own uncertainty?
The wind shifted, carrying with it a hint of something foreign, something dangerous. Torrhen's heart raced. He felt an electric charge in the air, a sense that destiny awaited him at that shore. It was a call he could no longer ignore.
Torrhen: Ser Barristan, 'he said suddenly, as a thought struck him' What if the dreams are a warning? What if I am not meant to walk this path?
Barristan turned, a knowing look in his eyes.
Barristan: Dreams can be deceptive, my lord, yet they can also reveal truths we do not yet comprehend. Do not shy away from your feelings or the journey that awaits you. Every man must confront the unknown if he is to find his place in the world.
Torrhen's heart swelled with gratitude for the knight's unwavering faith. He knew he would have to face the truth eventually, but for now, the weight of uncertainty felt more manageable under Barristan's guidance. They were not merely traversing the waters of the Narrow Sea; they were sailing toward destiny, each wave a reminder that the future was yet unwritten.
As they approached the shore, the outline of the land rose like a sentinel against the darkening sky, and Torrhen felt a chill dance along his spine. Secrets awaited him there, some he might wish to leave buried. But he was ready to confront whatever lay ahead, to embrace the legacy he had been born into.
After all, the tides of fate had begun to stir, and he would not let them carry him away unprepared. This was the place of his dreams, a call he could no longer resist, and as the boat glided toward the shore, he felt the promise of discovery echoing in the very air around him.
Across the Sea
The sun hung low in the sky, casting a warm golden light over the vast Dothraki plains. Daenerys Targaryen rode atop her sleek black mare, the rhythm of her horse's hooves matching the thunderous gallops of the Dothraki riders around her. The wind tousled her hair, and she felt alive among them, the fierce nomads embracing her as one of their own.
Beside her, Ser Jorah Mormont kept pace, his sturdy presence a comforting anchor amidst the chaos. He had been her protector, her confidant, and as she looked at him, she saw the loyalty etched into his features, a resolve that inspired her.
Daenerys: It is beautiful, isn't it?
Daenerys said, not looking at him, glancing out over the sweeping expanse of grasslands that seemed to stretch forever.
Jorah: It is. The Dothraki know how to live free.
As they rode, her thoughts drifted to the past, to her brother Viserys and the throne that had once been promised to them. But now, in this moment, she felt the weight of her destiny. her voice barely rising above the wind
Daenerys: Ser Jorah, have you ever heard of a man named Torrhen Red Wolf?
His brow furrowed, and he glanced at her, intrigued, Daenerys couldn't tell if the thought of this man made him angry or happy?
Jorah: Torrhen Stark, you mean? Aye, I've heard his name whispered across the Seven Kingdoms. Most have.
Daenerys: 'her heart quickened at his words'. What do you know of him?
Jorah thought for a moment before he spoke
Jorah: He is a man of honor. A great warrior, even at a young age. They say he made quite a name for himself in the South.
Daenerys: 'leaned in closer, eager to hear more' What did he do?"
Jorah: At just fourteen, he bested some of the strongest knights in the realm at various tournaments. It was quite the sight, they say. Many doubted he could hold his own against men twice his age, but he proved them wrong time and again."'Jorah's eyes glinted with respect as he continued.' He earned the title 'Red Wolf' after a fierce encounter with a band of brigands who had been terrorizing the countryside.
Daenerys: 'listened intently, captivated by the image he painted' What happened?
Jorah: These men had taken a group of young girls captive, planning to sell them into slavery,'his voice low and serious' Torrhen learned of their plight and tracked them down. With a handful of men, he confronted the bandits. They say he fought like a true wolf, fierce and relentless.
Daenerys felt a surge of admiration for this man she had never met. It was like a good story, she couldn't get enough and wanted more
Daenerys:And he saved the girls?
Jorah: He did 'nodding' But it came at a cost. The bandits fought back fiercely, but Torrhen and his men prevailed. He lost a few good men that day, but he earned his name by slaughtering the bandits and freeing the captives.
Daenerys: He sounds extraordinary.
Jorah: He not just for his prowess in battle. He is also known for his honor and his loyalty to his family. The Starks of Winterfell are a noble house, and Torrhen carries that legacy with him.
Daenerys felt a pang of longing as she imagined this warrior, tall and handsome, with long black hair and striking violet eyes.
Daenerys: What does he look like?'she asked, almost shyly.'
Jorah: He's quite striking, tall, with long dark hair that falls over his shoulders to his back and those violet eyes that seem to see into your very soul. They say he has the presence of a leader, even among those who are older.
Her heart fluttered at the thought of him, this noble warrior who had captured her imagination.
Daenerys: He sounds like a man who knows his worth.
Jorah: He does,' his expression turning serious once more' And he's fiercely protective of his own. You would find in him a kindred spirit, I think.
As they continued riding, a hush fell over the group as they approached a nearby hill. Daenerys took a deep breath, feeling the weight of the moment.
Daenerys: Do you think I'll ever meet him?
At this the knight was angry then Jorah's gaze softened, and he met her eyes.
Jorah:If it is meant to be, you will. There are many paths before you, Daenerys. Your journey is only beginning.
Just then, a commotion arose among the Dothraki, laughter and shouts mingling with the air. Khal Drogo's booming voice carried over the crowd, his larger-than-life presence demanding attention. Daenerys felt a flicker of sadness at the sight of him, even as her heart ached for the weight of what lay ahead.
Jorah: Let's not distract ourselves
He said steering the conversation back to the present.
Jorah: You have a kingdom to claim and a future to forge.
As they rode onward, Daenerys thought of Torrhen Stark, the Red Wolf, a symbol of honor and strength in a world that often felt cruel and chaotic. In that moment, amidst the Dothraki, she felt a spark of hope for the future. With allies like Torrhen, perhaps she could carve out a new destiny for herself and her people.'
Kings Landing has been a bit crazy the last three days. Guards were constantly running around like headless chickens, entering and exiting the Red Keep constantly. The people could feel the unease in the air, the whole thing with the Starks, plus both of Robert's brothers have fled the city and declared themselves King. The Small Council chamber was dimly lit, the heavy wooden table a testament to the many power struggles that had taken place within these walls. Cersei Lannister sat at the head of the table, her expression one of simmering frustration, while her son, Joffrey Baratheon, fidgeted in his chair, a scowl plastered across his young face.
We should have executed him when we had the chance!
Joffrey exclaimed, slamming his fist on the table, causing the ink wells to rattle. Ned Stark is a traitor, and now he's running free.
Cersei: 'shot him a warning glance, her patience thinning.' Calm yourself, Joffrey. This is not the time for reckless outbursts. We must consider our next steps carefully.
Seated around the table were Peter Baelish, Varys, and Grand Maester Pycelle, each man wearing a mask of concern, though their motivations varied.
Varys: Your Grace 'his voice smooth as silk, Ned Stark's escape has thrown the realm into disarray. We cannot underestimate the potential repercussions. He has support, and now that he has fled with Arya, they are both at large.
Joffrey: Support? 'scoffed, his arrogance shining through'. He has nothing! He's a coward who ran away like a dog!
Littlefinger: And yet, he has managed to evade us, which indicates that he has more than mere luck on his side. Ser Barristan Selmy is a formidable knight. His involvement complicates matters.
Cersei's brow furrowed at the mention of Barristan.
Cersei: We should have anticipated that he would act against us. The old fool thinks he is still a knight of honor.
Varys: And it is that very honor that will make him a target. If he is aiding Stark, he may become a rallying point for those who oppose us. And it appears that Renly and Stannis have both declared themselves kings. The realm is fracturing before our eyes.
Joffrey: This is all your fault, Mother!'he hissed, frustration spilling over' You let him escape! If you had been firmer—
Cersei's eyes narrowed, and she leaned forward, her voice icy.
Cersei: You will not speak to me that way, Joffrey. I did what I had to do to maintain the stability of our family. This is a crisis we must navigate carefully.
Pycelle, the ever-unctuous Grand Maester, cleared his throat, attempting to insert himself into the discussion.
Pycelle: If I may, Your Grace, perhaps we could offer a reward for the capture of Ned Stark and his daughter. Bounty hunters often have their own motives, and such a promise might lead to his swift return.
Littlefiner: 'raised an eyebrow, intrigued'. A bounty may draw unwanted attention to our plight. While it could flush him out, it also sends a message to any who might think of crossing us.
Cersei: Then what do you propose? We cannot simply sit here and let them plot against us.
The Queen response was full of anger and venom
Before anyone could answer, the door swung open, and an out-of-breath guard rushed in.
Guard: Your Grace! There is news from the front!
Joffrey:What news?"
Guard: Lord Tywin has mobilized his army to confront Renly and/or Stannis. They are marching toward the Stormlands, to see who they encounter first, but we have heard whispers that the Tyrells have thrown their support behind Renly, a suppose marriage but we don't know.
The room fell silent, the gravity of the situation settling like a lead weight. Joffrey's expression shifted from anger to fear.
Joffrey: Renly? That insufferable little fool?
Varys: He has the support of with them backing him, he poses a greater threat than we anticipated. A well-placed alliance could shift the tide of this war.
Joffrey: And Stannis?What does he have? 'His voice unsure trembling'
Littlefinger: Stannis is no fool,he has the backing of Dragonstone, but he lacks the charm and the allies that Renly possesses. He will likely try to use brute force to his advantage, which could work against him.
Cersei rubbed her temples, feeling the weight of her family's crown heavier than ever. She desperately wanted to be in her chambers with a drink in her hand
Cersei: We cannot allow this division to continue. We must strike first.
Varys:Perhaps we could leverage our allies in the Reach,if we can sway the Tyrells, we can weaken Renly's position
Joffrey And how do you suggest we do that?
Joffrey asked with skepticism coloring his voice.
Littlefinger: Marriage is a powerful tool, 'replied, a sly smile creeping onto his face' We could arrange a betrothal between one of the Tyrells and you, Joffrey. It would strengthen our ties and isolate Renly further.
Joffrey: Yes, yes! That would show them!
Cersei: 'nodded, recognizing the potential in this suggestion' But we must act quickly. The longer we wait, the stronger our enemies will become. We must send envoys to Highgarden.
Pycelle: And what of Ned Stark and his daughter? 'interjected , his voice shaky' They are still a concern, especially if they align with Renly or Stannis.
Varys: They will be dealt with, but first, we must secure our position. We cannot afford distractions.
As they deliberated, a tension filled the room, the atmosphere thick with uncertainty. Joffrey's anger simmered beneath the surface, while Cersei wrestled with the ever present threat of losing her grip on power. Each member of the council was acutely aware that the realm was shifting beneath their feet, and the game of thrones was more perilous than ever. The council was quiet what felt like minutes before the queen broke it.
Cersei: Very well. We will move swiftly. Joffrey, prepare for your betrothal negotiations. Baelish, see to the arrangements with the Tyrells. Varys, I want you to gather information on Renly and Stannis. We need to know their every move.
Joffrey sat straighter, the thrill of power coursing through him, and he wanted his council to feel his power
Joffrey: I will show them what a true king can do.
Cersei: A true king must be wise as well as strong, remember that.
As the council members nodded and began to disperse, Joffrey caught his mother's eye, a flicker of fear beneath his bravado. The game was no longer a game; it was war, and every decision could tip the balance of power in a realm already teetering on the edge of chaos.
Joffrey: We will win this, won't we, Mother? 'he asked, his voice quieter now'
Cersei: We must, for the Lannisters, for our legacy
Cersei replied, steeling herself. Trying to sound hopeful, for herself or Joffrey, she did know, she herself didn't want to admit it.
As they left the chamber, the weight of their decisions lingered in the air, and the shadows of the coming storm loomed ever closer, and not noticing the slight smirk from the Master of Whispers.
As Daenerys stood at the precipice of the fiery pit, the heat wrapped around her like a living entity. The flames flickered, dancing in hues of orange and red, whispering secrets of power and rebirth. She had just watch the witch burn, feeling better, she went to leave but before she could she thought she heard something.
Daenerys: What is this? 'she murmured, her voice almost lost in the crackling of the fire'
It was then she heard it—a voice, majestic and echoing, flowing like water through a stone.
Voice: Daenerys.
She spun around, searching for the source, but the voice seemed to come from everywhere and nowhere all at once. It beckoned her closer, a soft insistence that tugged at her heart.
Voice: Your destiny awaits. Embrace it.
Daenerys: Who are you?
She called out, but the voice only deepened, resonating with an otherworldly familiarity.
Voice: To meet him, you must walk through the flames.
Images flickered in her mind, vibrant and vivid. She hesitated, her heart racing, but the idea of meeting Torrhen—a name that danced at the edges of her dream, set her pulse thrumming.
Daenerys: Torrhen? 'she whispered, feeling the warmth of his name on her tongue.'
Voice: Yes 'the voice encouraged' he awaits you on the other side."
Torrhen the ghost of her dreams, of a boy she had heard stories about, the heir of Winterfell. The thought of him stirred something deep within her, a longing she had never quite understood. She felt an overwhelming urge to know him, to see his face and feel the warmth of his flames leapt higher, curling around her like fingers of a lover, urging her forward.
Voice: You have the power to shape your destiny, Daenerys. You are the fire. You are the storm.
As she was getting ready to step forward, she thought about her dragon eggs. She had to have them, she ran quickly to her tent, grabbing the three eggs. She ran back near the pit. With a trembling heart, she took a step closer to the blaze. The heat intensified, licking at her skin, igniting her courage.
Daenerys: I will find you, Torrhen. 'she promised, her voice resolute.'
As she stepped into the fire, the world around her exploded in a cacophony of heat and fire consumed her, yet it did not burn. Instead, she found herself enveloped in warmth, the flames swirling around her in a protective embrace. She closed her eyes, surrendering to the power of the fire. When she opened them again, she stood in a vast, snow-covered landscape. The air was crisp, and the scent of pine filled her lungs. She looked down and saw she was dressed in thick furs, befitting the northern climate. Before her, a figure emerged through the swirling snow, his face obscured by a hood.
Daenerys:Torrhen?
She called out, her voice echoing through the stillness. Her voice was stern but there was a hint of hope in her voice.
He turned, the hood falling back to reveal striking features—strong jaw, high cheekbones, and a crown of dark hair that caught the wind. His eyes, a piercing violet, sparkled with recognition as he stepped closer.
Torrhen: Daenerys,'he said, a smile breaking across his face'. you came.
The sight of him sent a rush of warmth through her, a sense of belonging that she had never felt before.
Daenerys: I... I had to, 'she replied, breathless' The fire called to me.
Torrhen reached out, his hand brushing against hers, and she felt a jolt of electricity at the contact.
Torrhen: I was worried you wouldn't come
Daenerys: I am here now
Torrhen: That makes me happy..
Daenerys: Torrhen, do- do you think we can claim the throne.
His violet eyes stare into her soul, she can feel the warmth, his desire, his fire.
Torrhen: Of course! Together, we can reclaim your birthright. Together, we can take King's Landing.
A vision flooded her mind: a grand castle, its towers rising high against the sky. She saw herself walking through the gates of King's Landing, flanked by her dragons and Torrhen at her side. The people cheered, their voices a chorus of hope and loyalty.
Daenerys: We'll do it together'she said, her heart swelling at the thought'. But how?
He smiled, his eyes shimmering with determination. Making her believe in everything he was saying.
Torrhen: With fire and blood. You have dragons now, and I have the North. Together, we can unite the realm.
The vision shifted, and suddenly she was standing beside Torrhen in the great hall of Winterfell. They were feasting, laughter echoing off the stone walls. The warmth of camaraderie filled the air, and she felt at home for the first time in her life.
Torrhen: You will be my queen
He said, his voice low and filled with promise. For the first time in forever, she pictured it, a home, a place she can call home, and feel like she belonged, how she long for a place to call home and to have a family.
Torrhen: And I will be your king.
But shadows flickered at the edges of her vision—men in armor, betrayal glimmering in their eyes. She saw herself fighting, bloodied and fierce, surrounded by enemies in gold. Torrhen stood beside her, a sword in hand, but darkness loomed over them.
Torrhen: We must be strong,'he urged, pulling her close' The road will be fraught with danger, but we can face it together.
The warmth of his presence filled her with courage, dispelling the darkness that threatened to swallow them whole. she vowed, gripping his hand tightly.
Daenerys:I will fight for us, for our future
The world around her shifted again, and she found herself on the shores of Westeros, the sun setting in a blaze of gold and crimson. The waves crashed against the rocks, and she stood tall, her dragons circling overhead. Torrhen was beside her, looking out at the horizon with a fierce determination.
Torrhen: This is our moment, 'his voice steady' We will take the Iron Throne.
Daenerys felt the weight of the crown on her head, heavy with the promise of power and responsibility. The throne, the kingdom, it all seemed so close, so attainable. But then came a sudden flash of doubt.
Daenerys: What if we fail?
She whispered, uncertainty creeping in. The fear of doubt and rejection, the thought of not being good enough
Torrhen: We won't,'he replied fiercely.' We are going to make the impossible happen, together we can accomplish whatever we put our minds to.
And with that, the vision transformed once more, and she found herself standing in the heart of King's Landing, the Iron Throne looming before her. She saw the people bowing before her, their faces filled with awe and fear.
Torrhen:This is your birthright
Torrhen said with his voice filled with conviction and something else, she couldn't quite tell. The way he said it made her heart beat faster, she believed she could accomplish this.
Daenerys: You were meant to rule.
But as she reached for the throne, shadows danced around her, whispers of betrayal swirling in the air. She felt a chill run down her spine, and her heart raced with foreboding. Ser Jorah betraying her. The Dothraki fighting each other then killing her.
Daenerys: No 'she said, pulling away, with passion and conviction in her voice' Iwon't let them take this from me.
Torrhen: 'grasped her shoulders, his gaze intense' Together, we can conquer any foe. Trust in yourself, Daenerys.
His words ignited a fire within her, burning away the doubts and resolve strengthening. She began believing in herself. With fire in her eyes she declared
Daenerys: You're Right, I will not be afraid.
The scene shifted again, and she found herself back in the fire, the heat surrounding her. But this time, it felt different—empowering. She could hear the voice again, calling to her, guiding her.
Voice: You are the flame, Daenerys. You are the dragon.
With newfound strength, she lifted her chin, embracing the flames that swirled around her.
Daenerys: I will rise 'she vowed, her heart pounding with purpose.'
And then she saw it: a vision of herself and Torrhen, standing united on the steps of the Red Keep, the Iron Throne behind them. They would reclaim their legacy, and nothing would stand in their way. As the flames enveloped her once more, she felt a sense of clarity wash over her. She was not just Daenerys Targaryen; she was a force of nature, destined to reshape the world. And no one was going to stop her
Daenerys: I will find you, Torrhen
She whispered, her heart alight with determination.
The fire surged around her, and she felt herself being pulled back, the warmth fading as she returned to the present. The pit was alive with heat and light, and she emerged from the flames, looked into the horizon, a sense of purpose igniting within echoes of the fire and Torrhen's voice reverberating in her heart. She had her goal, her mission, something worth fighting for.
The flickering candles in the Small Council chamber cast dancing shadows on the walls as the last of the council members filtered out, their faces taut with concern and ambition. Varys, the Master of Whisperers, lingered behind, his fingers steepled under his chin as he watched Cersei and Joffrey exit, their voices fading down the corridor.
The tension in the room still crackled in the air, a reminder of the power struggles that had just unfolded. But as the door clicked shut, Varys allowed a small, satisfied smile to grace his lips.
Varys: A delicate game, indeed.
The master of whispers murmured to himself, his voice barely above a whisper like he was afraid that someone would hear.
He glanced around the room, ensuring he was alone, and then turned his attention to the map spread across the table, each territory marked with the sigils of the great houses, a visual representation of the shifting tides of power. It was a tangled web, but one that he had studied meticulously.
Torrhen Stark had become a ghost, a name unmentioned in the council's heated debates about threats to the Iron Throne. In the chaos of Ned Stark's escape and the declaration of rival kings, Torrhen had slipped through the cracks, unnoticed and unaccounted for like the shadow that he sometimes is.
Varys: How curious, that the boy who earned the title of Red Wolf would be overlooked by those who would seek to eliminate any potential rival.
He remembered the stories whispered in the taverns of King's Landing, of Torrhen's prowess, his honor, and the loyalty he inspired in those around him. It seemed the council was too preoccupied with their immediate concerns to recognize the potential threat he posed, something he would hope that they would soon come to regret.
Varys ran a finger along the map, tracing the borders of the North, where Torrhen's influence lay strong. While looking South, he still had allies even some in high places like the Martells, especially Oberyn and Doran.
Varys: You are a clever one, Torrhen Stark, 'he whispered' And in the shadows, we shall see how the game unfolds.
The Small Council's discussions had been consumed by Joffrey's temper and Cersei's machinations, leaving little room for contemplation of the young Stark's fate. Varys relished the oversight; it provided him with opportunities to maneuver pieces on this grand chessboard.
He recalled the tension between the Lannisters and the Starks, an age-old rivalry that had flared up once again. With Ned Stark fleeing and his daughters unaccounted for, the Starks were fractured, but they still possessed allies, and Torrhen's reputation could very well rally support against the crown.
Varys: A pity for them, they are blind to the very forces that could unite against them.
He stepped away from the table and made his way toward the door, pausing to look out into the corridor, where the sounds of the castle echoed through the halls. The Lannisters believed they were untouchable, that their power was absolute, but Varys knew better. In the realm of politics, appearances were deceiving, and alliances could shift as quickly as the wind.
Varys: Torrhen Stark, 'he whispered again, savoring the name' A wolf in the shadows, waiting for the moment to strike.
As he moved toward the exit, he considered the implications of his knowledge. Varys had his own network of informants, and he had already set in motion whispers that would reach Torrhen. The young Stark could be a powerful ally or a formidable opponent.
With a sly smile, Varys stepped into the corridor, his mind racing with possibilities. The game was still in its early stages, and while the Lannisters reveled in their temporary victories, he was certain that Torrhen's name would soon resurface like a specter rising from the ashes of the chaos they had sown.
Varys: May the winds of fate be ever in your favor, Torrhen.
He murmured as he disappeared into the shadows, plotting the next move in this deadly dance for the Iron Throne.
As Daenerys was standing, not moving, she had a look of a fierce warrior. As morning sun was rising for the day, as the people were waking up. Daenerys Targaryen stood in her birthday suit, small roars could be heard. As Ser Jorah saw Daenerys, he felt like his eyes had deceived him. A dragon was standing on her shoulder and the look Daenerys had on her face sent chills throughout his body, he felt afraid when her gaze was on him, he quickly thanked the gods she was on his side. He just watched with his jaw on the floor as Daenerys started walking away.
Daenerys: Come to me Torrhen, I await you, my king
Here stands the Mother of the dragons, the warrior of freedom was born with fire and now that she had her goal in mind, who is going be stupid enough to stand in her way?
AN:
End of season 1!
Whatcha think?
Next chapter will probably just show Torrhen and Ser Barristan arriving, and them earning money so they can start their search, then the chapter after that will start season two!
Favorite moment of season 1?
Favorite character so far?
How do you all like Torrhen so far?
When I post season 2, I will post my face claim for Torrhen since I haven't yet, if you already got someone in mind, let me know, I might take it into consideration!
Predictions for season 2?
Anything you would like to see happen in season 2?
Until next time!