All Hail The King

Chapter 1

Balerion sought out the god called 'Master of Death' he wasn't easy to find, he'd been searching for months. He'd thought about summoning him, but he nixed the idea. He wished to be granted a favour, not piss him off. No god reacted well to being summoned through a ritual (it literally forces one to attend) albeit depending on how powerful you were. Plus, the last time he'd been summoned…had not gone well at all, and it wasn't repeat performance he wished, not that it could happen, thus his search for this elusive MOD. He didn't seem to stay in the same area long, constantly travelling and if he went down to visit the world, there was no following him thus he had to wait until he returned.

'You better be quick, he never stays in one world long, his visits are always quick and fleeting things' he'd been warned by Meraxes, when he'd informed her of his decision to ask the young god for a favour. Hoping against all hope to save the Targaryen family from its fate and thus save the entire world of man from its folly. The entire situation left him feeling enraged, his warnings were not being heeded. It was as if this Targeryen was blind and deaf! All his warnings had been heeded, if they had not, they would have perished in the doom.

He could have cursed Meraxes for not giving him more information, he feared any moment that he would go back to his own world where they couldn't follow. Well, he could, he just shouldn't. God's were extremely territorial, the only exception to the rule was the MOD, he was a supreme being.

Nobody would mess with him.

He envisioned something grand, tall, foreboding, ominous and without equal.

He must confess, he did not expect a short, black haired, aristocracy features, delicate to be sure, and the most beautiful green eyes he'd ever seen. He watched him chat with Vhagar of all people. One of the grouchiest, intolerable gods, and he was laughing, genuinely enjoying the MOD's presence. Then again, this might be just one of the many visions of himself, just as they kept their full 'god' features hidden.

"…they really are my favourites, it's been a long time since I had them," a very pleased look on Vhagar's face, he was surrounded by his favourite foods, peaches and figs and other fruits from Dorne, favourite fish from the north, and a whole host of cakes and muffins from Westeros. They could make their own food, but they couldn't summon it from the human realm and since they could no longer venture down, they couldn't get them like they used to.

Vhagar's gaze shuttered seeing Balerion approaching, not out of hate or anger, but because he knew his rather pleasant conversation was about to be cut off.

"I do apologise for interrupting your conversation, I am hoping that you'll help us," Balerion said quietly and without presumption, he definitely didn't want to enrage this god, he'd heard a rumour that he'd killed another god for his impetuousness. Just because they didn't enter each other's domains didn't mean they didn't and couldn't get word to one another.

Harry narrowed his gaze upon Balerion, noticing his features were near completely identical to Vhagar's, most of the minor gods were the same too. "What do you want?" Harry asked, without an ounce of political savvy in his body.

Vhagar smothered his amusement, he was unlike anyone he'd ever met. The complete ass kissing they got as major gods had gotten bored centuries ago. It's what had drawn him to Harry in the first place and actually strike up a conversation. He hadn't expected him to go down and bring up his favourites, the beer though, he'd hoard that and use it sparingly.

"Your help," Balerion declared, feeling a little wrong footed over his abrupt manner, finally understanding what had drawn Vhagar to him in the first place.

Harry ached a brow, "With what?" raising his hand, and a glass bottle appeared in front of him, and he grasped it before it could fall. Then three glasses followed, but he didn't touch them, he poured them while they were in midair, and then they zoomed to each of them.

"With her," Balerion declared, and an image of a woman stood before them.

Harry straightened up; his features impassive as he stared at the hologram of the young woman.

Vhagar made a small sound, as steam poured of his ears, after drinking the contents of the glass. Harry's lips curled up in amusement. A delighted look graced his features, before they smoothed back out, "This might just be my new favourite." He declared; it made every single bit of his body tingle like fire.

"It's my favourite also," Harry murmured, pleased that he liked it, handing over the bottle, with a roguish grin "Tell me everything." His gaze never wavering from the hologram.

Balerion did, he explained what came of the house Targaryen, the civil war that killed off the dragons, the death of the eggs and a child king so terrified of them he ordered the destruction of the rest of them. Of the three petrified eggs being saved, and how big a part they played in the future. Of the mad kings actions, and that of his son and the two wives he took, culminating in the Targaryen's dynasty's abrupt end. How three had survived the usurpers desire to wipe out the Targaryen's entirely. How the weight of the world ultimately broke her, the betrayal, the treason, and her death.

Harry frowned, replenishing his glass, he pointed to Balerion glass held loosely in his hand, "You're leaving something out, nobody, never mind a god, would interfere for that." He knew from personal experience that the gods themselves cared little for the mortal realm. Their lives were so fleeting that blink of an eye to a god they were gone and in the ground. It might have been fascinating once upon a time, but now? No, they held no desire to watch, like a child with a new toy, play with it a few times before discarding it to rot in the corner.

Vhagar laughed, cheeks rosy, flushed with drink "He's got you there, Bale," naturally he knew everything, it was something they all discussed a lot.

Balerion smiled, despite the conversation, he hadn't seen Vhagar like this in a long, long time. Vhagar missed going down and mingling with humanity, and enjoying the fruits of their labour. This, this was once in a lifetime sort of deal, sooner or later the MOD would leave although, given how he made Vhagar laugh and smile he hoped it wouldn't be for a long time yet. "That's not even half of it." He confessed, inhaling sharply, ignoring the scoff that came from the MOD.

"Harry, hear him out, you'll enjoy this." Vhagar said, causing Balerion to startle, Harry? Well, that was far simpler than MOD, but until he had permission perhaps it was best not to use his name.

"Tell me everything, I do detest half-truth's and lies," his tone cold and dark, staring at the palm of his hand as if it had a hidden message.

Balerion clicked his fingers, and the girl disappeared, and a figure almost completely white, appeared on the hologram. Eyes piercing blue, and utterly ethereal. They were too supernatural to be human, that thing. "This is the Night King, once a mortal man, one of the First Men, who was waging a long war with Children Of The Forest, he became a captive, killed for a terrible purpose. Killed with a cursed blade, his eyes turning blue, turning him immediately into one of the First Walkers. You see, they created him to defend them from the First Men of Westeros. They were cutting down their sacred heart trees and slaughtering their people.

Harry felt a shiver going through him, as the images played for him to see. He had a feeling he knew exactly what was going to happen. You couldn't do what they did without consequences. Recalling his own actions, after what had been done to him. He didn't regret it, not even a little bit.

"However, the White Walkers soon turned on their creators," Balerion declared, and Harry nodded as if confirming his own inner thoughts, confirming his suspicions. "It begun what is known here as The Long Night."

"Let me guess, they worked together to get rid of the 'true evil'," a dry look on his face, no matter where you went, what you did, the stories were all the same, just different people.

"You'd be correct, but the Night King survived, he retreated to the place that's called The Land Of Always Winter. Where they hid and faded from memory, becoming naught but a legend." Balerion continued.

Harry arched a brow, pursing his lips, surely those there would have handed those stories down through the ages. however, they weren't very good at naming things were they? The Land of Always Winter? Hopefully they spread the word, to ensure that if anything happened again, they'd know what to do. Then again, perhaps it wasn't an important part of the tale and Harry had no desire to know if they did or not. He stood up and strode around the seating area, his gaze never wavering from the figure. Seeing him reanimate a dragon had shivers running down his back, and goosebumps raising along his arms.

"The curse is attached to the Night King, kill him the rest will die with him." he easily deduced, live as long as he did, you learned.

"Correct," Balerion said, with a smirk, not surprised the god was on the same page as them.

"What do you need from me?" Harry asked bluntly, "To kill him?" sitting back down in his seat.

"You're not the chosen one." Balerion shook his head.

Harry barked out a laugh, "Depends on who you ask." Green eyes gleaming with deadly intent, as if begging to unleash his baser desires and just end everything and everyone in the world. "Did she do it?" there had to be a whole other reason he was being asked for something.

"No," Balerion confessed, "She was killed before she could complete her task, and with her any hope of humanity surviving ended."

"And?" putting his feet up hoping he'd get to the bottom of his quest sooner rather than later. What did they want him to do? Kill the night king? Go back and prevent whatever or whoever caused her death and save her? Lead her on the right path?

"They weren't the only danger," Balerion said ominously, "When Aegon, Visenya, Rhaenys conquered Westeros, we allowed him to see the great night, the Night King was only part of it…with the death of dragons and the last of the magic from the First Men that world could bring to bear…comes the true long night."

Harry's eyes widened, "An ice age," seeing nothing except white on the landscape of the hologram, he couldn't imagine the fear that would inspire in someone. He was just one man, strong, powerful, but still ultimately one person and he knew how it felt to have the weight of the world upon your shoulders. He wouldn't wish it on anyone.

Harry could imagine the sheer terror for snow to barrage them on all ends, after multiple and lavish feasts in succession leaving them without provisions. Then the snow, raining down upon them, thinking it's only a winter until humanity ended, unable to survive the harsh and unrelenting cold without food and warmth.

"The Targaryen's are demi-gods, children of your own seed," Harry deduced, he would be a fool not to realize it, that girl had looked a near carbon copy of them. Purple eyes, and white hair? It was only natural to want to save your family, he guessed. "I don't get why their existence would prevent an ice age…" the gods having children with mortals was nothing new, they'd done it since the dawn of time. All of their offspring - or family line - had done something worthwhile. If was the nature of Demi-gods, vastly intelligent, drew people in, captivating.

"Humanity would describe it as a ice age, but the truth is this world cannot survive without magic," Balerion declared grimly, wondering at his use of ice age, had he not been around to know that any barren wasteland - Iceland - were plants long forgotten never gotten out of their infancy when magic died out?

Harry laughed bitterly, "Hmm…and let me guess, there's a faith that denounces all magic?" he hated faith, humanity believing in them was the biggest curse of them all. humanity did unspeakable things all in name of their beloved gods who didn't give a second blink at them. Didn't care what they envoked, prayed or even killed in their name, humanity was just insignificant for the most part.

Vhagar's own lips curled into a disgusted sneer, their own people had converted over to the very faith that renounces them. Believes them to be an abomination, the betrayal sat heavily upon their tongues. Regretfully, they Targaryen's did not remember their own history, they didn't know any better. They weren't sure how long they could let the insults stand.

Balerion inclined his head, yes, it's true the faith – people without an ounce of magic – believed it to be an abomination.

"Fine I'll help her kill the Night King," Harry replied, although, part of him was quietly cautioning himself, having control over him if they touched? The entire world would be in horrifying danger that would make the ice age look like a preferable outcome. He'd just make sure she knew what to do, and when to do it. Use magic to keep him contained at a distance. He wasn't sure if this creature could do anything to him…but the ease in which he'd claimed control over a magical dragon was beyond terrifying. It was little wonder he won to be honest.

"Your help would be needed far earlier in the timeline," Balerion denied him, but was pleased he wanted to help. Unaware of course, that his words themselves, what he called 'the chosen one' had his attention more than anything else. He'd do anything to prevent someone from having to go through what he did.

"Now you're just beginning to piss me off," Harry stated, his British accent peeking through in his ire. His gaze boring into Balerion with a glare that spoke a promise of unending pain if he didn't stop his bullshit.

"Welcome to my world," Vhagar grumbled, and the others wondered why he didn't bother speaking much anymore? It was tiresome, but the gods did like to find amusement in the smallest things and often spoke in riddles.

Harry's lips quirked; he knew his fondness for Vhagar came from a twisted fondness he'd felt for Snape. He respected what he'd done to stay alive and actually successfully did it. He wasn't killed for being a spy after all, but for something so utterly beyond his control (and not to mention wrong) it hadn't been Severus it was Draco. Didn't make what Snape did any better though, he hadn't deserved the treatment he'd received, hadn't deserved a lot of shit that had gone down in his life. Given everything that happened and the treason he'd undergone, Snape's attitude was but a blip on the radar. The no nonsense attitude was just his thing after everything.

He hoped he didn't become like every single god he'd ever met, even Thor was an idiot. He was the epitome of a Gryffindor, all brawn and no brains. Exactly what Harry had been in his humanity.

"Viserys Targeryen ignores every single warning we sent him, we warned him if he had a son, there would be a civil war breaking out, that leads to what become known as The Dance Of The Dragons, that it would kill off the dragons." Balerion explained, huffing in annoyance that they wouldn't even allow him his eccentricities.

Harry winced, glancing away, "How many people died?" those dragons would have without a doubt caused a lot deaths, a shudder wracked his frame when he saw humans killing the dragons. Swallowing thickly, wondering if he'd ever get the sound of their shrieking out of his mind. Watching as the dragon desperately tried to get out, wrecking its own body in a futile attempt. Okay, some of them deserved it, did they think the damn dragons were just going to sit idly by while they were killed?

"Thousands upon thousands," Balerion, a great many of them were Valyrian origin sadly, causing the further decline of their numbers and worshipers. "You can change all that."

Harry just stared at him in amused disinterest, he was beginning to tire of the run around. Perhaps it was time to move on, especially if he was going to start being asked for favours and the like. Sighing softly, he made a move to get up and leave, he was not about to endure endless riddles and suggestions by the gods, not when they'd came to him seeking his help.

"He wants you to go down there and seed with one of the Targaryen's," Vhagar revealed bluntly seeing his friend ready to leave. "Bring more magic into the family, enforce greater ties between dragon and rider. To save the family and prevent the civil war that will rain destruction down upon the Targaryens."

Harry choked on his own spit, incredulous, "Been there, done that, never happening again." he'd always wanted a family, not the forced one, one created out of a desire to have a family. Ironically, he'd seeded one particular wizard that ended up with a far greater notoriety than his own. Myddin Wynn Emrys, better known as Merlin. He'd never been part of his life though, but helped where he could. It broke his heart not to be there for him, knowing what it was like to be without his father himself. Yet the gods themselves prevented his direct interference with his life. To have the gods do that to him had further hardened him, for a time, but time mended most all things.

"Did he forget to mention it would need to be in female form?" Vhagar commented drolly. There was only two unwed Male Targaryen's left, Daemon and Baelon Targaryen and he'd never remarry, not even to save anyone's lives, he stuck true to the oaths he'd given to his wife, and such a thing was as rare as unicorns in this world.

"Oh, hell, no!" Harry barked out vehemently, much to Vhagar's amusement, "I'm never becoming female again, it's bloody rotten! They get the short end of the stick! Constantly! The back ache from the boobs! The damn stomach pain every single bleeding month forever! Don't even mention pregnancy! I'd rather simultaneously get crucio'd a dozen times!"

They didn't understand the 'Crucio' deal, but they got what he meant by the tone of voice used.

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