A/N: Hello friends. I am avid reader at FF net and recently decided to write one of my own from the popular genre of Game of Thrones. There are numerous stories on Fanfiction and inspired by them I wrote my piece.
Before you start reading, I want to tell you that English is not my mother tongue and that it may have grammatical and syntax errors. I tried to write it with what I remembered from schools and what the internet has to offers.
This story will have a relationship: OC/Ashara Dayne/Rhaella Targaryen
Disclaimer:I do not own any of the Game of Thrones characters in the story or from the novel A Song of Ice and Fire. Only the OCs included are mine. IF you believe I own them; then you clearly have bigger issues then I do.
Please enjoy and don't forget to review it. More I get, faster I Upload the next part.
It was a regular night, when I left office. Driving in unpredictable rain shower of Monsoons, the visibility was at par. Listening to Sound of Silence, it was a peaceful journey with only Simon & Garfunkel as my companion.
Humming to song I was drifted back to suddenly my family and along with the drifting vastness between us. So lost in thought that it prevented me from viewing the truck coming in front of me. I abruptly turn the wheel but the slippery road turn the aquaplaning and in turn my car flipped.
At that moment it came to me, that all the thought about life flashing was utter rubbish. With sluggish eyes, I viewed that I was lying upside down and rushing blood to brain made me feel light in head. The light was waning from me and as I closed my eyes, all I thought was my family and regret to not have talked for days.
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Yet this was not the end, that I believed occurred.
A kaleidoscope of colours and lights was passing through me. It reminded me more of Stephen Strange journey by Ancient One.
Travelling in endless space, suddenly i felt as if my body( or whatever thing i am right now) being shredded in to tiny atoms and joined again. After long time(according to me), the sheer agony of shredding and merging final stopped.
Till now I was convinced of two things. Either I was heavy on drugs or I was real dead. Death sounded more plausible cause in front of me lies the vast darkness and some source of light coming form vortex of energy.
I saw mountainous beings whose form was hidden from my sight.
A being clad in utter red armour with shadows covering his being, with fire replacing multiple eyes.
Six beings merging and splitting again.
A huge river flowing with endless water with krakens mermaids seas serpents in it. All of that passed before my eyes in a blink.
It looked that all beings were frozen for none saw me.
I moved my head in their direction of focus and the sight chilled me to core.
It was a vast beast with darkness its cover and vast mouth that spew cold fire. Looked more like a Lovecraftian being than any other. And that was what trigger when I was suddenly jerked back and darkness claimed me before any other thought.
Winterfell, 262 AC
Rickard Stark, the Lord Paramount of Winterfell, Warden of North and the Lord Paramount of the North staring at broken tower in Winterfell, as if to set it on fire by sight. He winced as he listened to his wife's cries, a particularly loud one ringing out. It would be after two year that he was to be gifted with another child, a brother or sister to his firstborn Brandon who was sleeping in Old Nan's arm.
Also called "Strong Wolf" for his massive frame and his battle accords in The War of Ninepenny. When northern forces swept the Golden Company across Grey gallows, they earned the title of Red army due to massive bloodshed which painted the seas surround the island red. It was a shock for seven kingdoms to witness disciplined brutality of northern army and it added to their taunt of savages at the northern men back. But none dared to challenge them again on martial skills.
But the most he cherish in life was his Lyarra. Though she was his cousin once removed but their bond remained strong since he saw her at the annual meeting held by his father. Lady-in-waiting to his mother, to Rickard it was love at first sight. And since then their love had only deepened especially after birth of his son Brandon. And he did all he could to keep his wife happy as did she. Each and every night she whispered that he was her everything. That was all he needed to be strong for both of them and protect her with all he had.
It had been almost four hours since his wife Lyarra went inside the chamber after her water broke. Old maester Rhodry was assisted in birth by his good sister Branda Rogers. The old Maester was bastard of Old Lord Doneel Flint, but due his high intellectual was sent to Citadel to train as Maester. He served since the time of his grandfather and was near six and seventy of age. He had commissioned to Citadel to sent for another Maester and some Wylis, Reach-born and recently made Maester.
'Well this shall be our second-born after Brandon.'he thought pacing in front of room.
It wasn't just the birth… he had the situation on the whole Northern Realm to consider. He still remember his visit to King's landing two years after Brandon's birth. The Southerners looked down North as cold, frozen place and its people as Savages and stupid. They never realize the harshness of Winter and used his house sigil as slur against them. Their flowery words and colourful dresses hide their vileness and greed that resides in their mind. Even Targaryen view this Kingdom as desolate place. It raises his anger but he swallow all hidden barbs and insult cause he knew that while North may not be as populous as that of Reach or rich as Westerlands but they breed hard men. Some can even say they were the most disciplined army in Westeros in spite of being cut off from whole South.
"It's no use fretting, Rickard. Everything will be fine," Rodrik broke Rickard out of his frenzied pacing.
Rickard slowed down to a halt and sighed as he ran his hand through his thick mane. His face looked haggard and you could already see the bags forming under his eyes. He hadn't had much rest during these final days of Lyarra's pregnancy.
"I know it will be fine… but I can't help but be nervous," he said to the Wandering Wolf.
"How about you handle the little lord for sometime. It might calm your nerves. You must not look so dishevelled when you are to meet your second born child, no?"
Rickard smiled at the Old Nan and taking Brandon from her sat down on the seat prepared. He watched the sleeping face of his child whom he named after his little brother Brandon who lost his life due to winter chills.
Wyalla was lady of two and fifty name days. She was born to an offshoot of the Mormont family of Bear Islands whose parents had passed away due to a plague. Because of this, she came to Winterfell in search for work. Realizing her hard working nature, Rickard's grandmother enlisted her as domestic help in castle and she had been there seen then. She was hard-working and competent in her work. But her finest quality was Storytelling from Long Night to Children of forest, she knew all of them and was favourite among children due to her kind nature. He himself grew listening to her stories, particularly Theon the Hungry Wolf.
"Well, if it would anything like little Brandon here. It shall be easy birth for my little girl", said Rodrik Stark. Famous as the wandering wolf, Rodrik stark was famous in whole north as its best fighter. Served in Essos under second sons. The tale of wandering wolf were recounted still around hearth. Though he missed his first grandson birth and did not waned to evoke the wrath of his daughter for second time. Rodrik visited Winterfell for Rickard and Lyarra second son.
He patted his son Brandon and leaned back on his seat to relax until he was given leave by his wife to enter the room. He didn't want to be denied entry because it was his nervous pacing and muttering that drove the maester to retire him from room (more like thrown out). The seat wasn't comfortable. But his tiredness had him drifting on and off from sleep.
As soon as he closed his eyes, the nightmare that had been haunting him since that fateful day echoed in his mind. The vision was like any other dreams he had earlier in sleep. He was pretty sure it was one of the old gods that spoke to him because it happened during his morning ritual of worshipping the Heart Tree in the weirwood.
Since the dawn of the ages, there were only a handful occasions when the old gods contacted the First Men. They usually did that through a green seer. Green seers were considered legends and mere fabrications since the Andals invaded Westeros and started to spread their Faith of the Seven. It is said that his ancestor Brandon the Builder was himself a green seer due to being son of Children of Forest. But anything and everything that stood as an obstacle for spreading their beliefs and faith were destroyed. The Northern Kingdom was lucky that none of the Andal culture spread up from the neck. Even today, more than three hundred years after Aegon of House Targaryen united the Seven Kingdoms, the North still held onto its endemic culture rather than adopting the values of the Andals like other Houses of the First Men had done so in the south. This was one of the main reasons the Northerners disdained the Southerners for they were seen as betrayers and destroyers of the natural order.
Rickard had heard rumours about green seers living beyond the wall from the wildlings that invade his land during the winter. It was another thing he wanted to investigate since he was touched by the gods. Only his wife knew that their gods contacted him but Rickard had not filled her with any details of the encounter. Some of the things he saw of the possible future were disturbing. He saw his house almost die out because of his actions. To be honest, it all started to go downhill because of a disobedient child. He wanted to change that to avoid that particular fate. But suddenly that had changed due to a single child again. And that led him to the vision he got from the old gods. The vision came to him almost eight months ago. It all started in one cold spring morning.
FLASHBACK
He saw a pack of wolves striding majestically through a dark forest, as if it was the King of its own domain. But suddenly at whisper of rat, the pack breaks down. A Wild brown wolf started riding with horses and Quiet brown wolf strode with eagles and stags. He watch the pack drifting apart.
He saw grouping of all kind of animals a place and then silver dragon riding to group of wolf, lion, eagle , kraken and many others. But A scaly and scathed dragon suddenly descend and scares them away.
Then suddenly the silver dragon swoops and catch beautiful pale blue wolf from pack and drops her in tower. The stag roars in retaliation but then dragon capture the brown wolf of packs and burns them.
The sudden shift in vision was eagle fish wolf and stag in battle in river filled with ruby against silver dragon and cobras. But stag pierces and killed the dragon.
In mean time a golden lion prompt a dog and scorpion to strike a snake and little dragons. A white lion kills scathed dragon.
In tower pale blue wolf gives a little dragon to brown wolf. The dragon changes to white wolf and brown wolf took him back to land of snow.
The stag is crowned in next scene with lioness beside him.
Rickard then began to realize that the animals represented the hundreds of Houses of the Seven Kingdoms and this might be the greensight rumoured to be blood of First men.
A time lapses he sees same stag now fat and going to land of snow. The quiet wolf with fish at side has pack of his own but the white lion bite leg of a small wolf.
The stag drags wolves south, where it was attacked by a golden lion which leapt on it from behind, capturing its throat between its jaws and bringing it to the ground. From there the lion quickly ripped the stag's throat out, after which it began to gorge on its meat, the stag's blood stained the lion's jaws as it ripped into its underbelly, rapidly consuming it.
As the lion was eating though, Bran then saw wolf stalking up quietly behind it, before lunging for the lion and snapping at its hind legs, trying to drive the lion of or kill it. The lion though was unbothered by this, as it instead just beat the wolf away, and returned to its feast, now nearly done consuming the carcass.
Only for it to then be interrupted by the roar of a dragon overhead, who upon seeing the bloody melee below, had decided to descend into the forest so it too could also feast on the now dead stag. Its presence scaring both the lion and wolf away from the stag's carcass, only for them to later put away their previous grievances and work together to drive off the dragon.
There were of course other things going on his dream, a large squid crawling from a water course onto the land, a small stag enshrouded in fire running hither and thither through the forest at random helping and hindering all parties, even as a cold chill began to spread through the forest, tree trunks cracking and the ground slowly becoming covered in a thin layer of frost. As well as that there was the three eyed crow which seemed to fly above it all, watching but never interfering.
BUT THEN VISION ABRUPTLY CHANGES.
Suddenly a flock of crows rose blocking his sight. The dark wings soon disappeared to reveal a raging battle. It was unlike any he had witnessed in his life before, quite possibly because everything fighting in it was some sort of animal or beast. Dragons fought viscously with each other, the bodies of dead animals lying around them. Only a single Great Black Wolf with Silver Eyes still stood, swinging its paws at any Animal that came near, though it sometimes fought besides the Dragons. Both sides of Dragon avoided the river, tentacles rising to grasp any beast who drew close to drown them in its icy depths.
Looking around further, Rickard spotted yet more species, all of whom fought on one side or another. Most notable of the other animals we're those that didn't join the fighting at all, those that sat around the periphery of the battle and simply watched. Ultimately the fighting began to draw to a close. A lone weathered but beautiful Dragon stood with small dragons and snake at its shadow as if protecting them, but above them stood a Direwolf with luminous silver eyes. Silver eyes that was beautiful , yet deadly in all intent.
Before he could see furtherance, the swarm of crows once again swooped down in front of him, shrouding him in a cocoon of wings and feathers.
But what he saw made him flinch to core for in front stood walking army of dead people, their bodies half shrouded in mist. Stumbled at each other, dead men and women by the thousands, an army of half frozen corpses shuffling forth until a host of the dammed stood arrayed before him. And behind them were Figures with luminous blue eyes and body of ice and ancient monstrosity.
One name came to him, a nightmare straight from the oldest annals of history, the darkest of Old Nan's tales.
White Walker.
The sight awakened a deep seated primordial fear inside of him, a fear that only escalated as the creature reached out towards him.
VISION ENDED
Till now he never told his wife of these dreams, more like nightmare. But he understood they may not be mere dreams for they could be omens of future. With time the visions slipped from his mind but the most striking among all of them was the black direwolf with silver eyes.
Finally he heard the click of the lock being turned and the door opened. He pushed the door with all his might sending the surprised maester flying away and almost ran to the side of his wife's bed.
She was drenched in perspiration and looked extremely tired. But the smile on her face made up for the hardship she went through. Branda and the midwives had already cleaned his child and it was in its mother's arms. The other two were under the careful attention of the midwives as they were being cleansed and carefully examined for deformations and other problems.
He knelt by his wife's side as she happily cooed at the baby who was staring at its mother. It was a boy.
"Look at him Rickard… isn't he beautiful? Look sweetie… this is your father…," Lyarra showed the boy to him.
He had to agree. He was a beautiful looking baby. Their son was a perfect blend of him and his wife, unlike Brandon who favoured him more.
The usual dark grey eyes of the Starks were replaced by eyes that were pale grey with a silvery sheen on them. They glowed silver as light reflected on them. It was enchanting and quite captivating. Those tiny eyes were aware of their surroundings.
"What is his name going to be Rickard? Personally I think Harrold would be good name for him."
Rickard was astonished at Lyarra for suggesting the name of his best mate, without whose sacrifice he would not have been here. Harrold Rogers, deceased husband of Branda Rogers, was Rickard foster brother at Ironrath of House Forrester. Belonging to Amberly of Stormland , he was third son to inherit nothing and thus was fostered at North to cultivate better relation between North and Stormlands. But the attack at Grey fallow resulted in death of Harrold at cost of saving Rickard life.
"I will be honoured. Also Branda would be overjoyed for honouring in name of Harrold."
"So, it shall be. Welcome to the World, Harrold Stark"
Suddenly the baby started crying and Lyarra took him back to lull him, silencing his cries.
"It seems the young pup did not like the name" , jested Rickard.
"Oh, hush you."Lyarra said playfully.
They then chatted among them, while the silver eyes newborn watched them and screamed in his mind a single thought 'WHY GOD? Why did you send me to this Backstabbing and murderous world of Westeros? WHY?'