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GOT: Reborn as a Martell

Quentyn is sent back after his death in Meereen...but someone else inhabits his body. Two years before the events of AGOT, the new Quentyn Martell will have to navigate the treacherous landscape of Dornish politics and push himself forwards if he's to avoid the same fate he did in Meereen, and make the Sunshine over Westeros. ______________________ patreon.com/MoonLight18

MoonLight18 · Book&Literature
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150 Chs

GOT : Chapter 104

"I want to watch the battle, mother!" Arya pleaded.

"Arya, this isn't something a little girl like you should see," she replied sternly.

"You'll be watching," Arya replied.

"I am not a young girl, Arya," she countered.

"I've seen blood before mother, and I have killed before. I can handle watching a battle from afar," Arya stood her ground, annoyed.

...

Catelyn swallowed, but seeing that Uncle Brynden wasn't opposed to it, finally relented.

She could see the lines forming in the distance, the distant roar of thunder rolling. There would be rain, soon, and it would only add to the confusion of the battle.

By now, Edmure's host was only a bunch of pea-sized specks in the distance. Breathing heavily, she murmured another prayer to the Warrior, urging him to protect Edmure, and by some miracle, bring him back alive.

Suddenly, the area above the castle darkened. The storm had come, and they would no doubt be soaked. But before she could even order Arya inside before they were drenched, a massive roar pierced the sky.

In complete shock, Catelyn looked above, and then her heart almost stopped.

A dragon.

This was not a dream. This was not some kind of hallucination. She had a dragon massive enough to eclipse the whole castle under it right before her very eyes.

Its scales were of a shimmering dark blue and its wings were so large they could envelop half of Riverrun's keep.

There was confusion and panic in the castle. Half of the men were looking up in astonishment, the other half in fear.

"Is…is that…" her uncle Brynden shook like a leaf

"…a dragon!" Arya looked up, mesmerized.

Catelyn didn't even half time to think as the legendary creature disappeared in the low clouds. For a few moments, there was silence.

Then, a shriek in the distance. She could see the dragon diving down through the clouds, spitting blue and orange flames in the distance.

Edmure!

Her first thought went to her brother…but then she looked in front of her. The specks in the distance hadn't budged. Her brother's army hadn't been hit by the dragon's wroth. But with this relief came fear. He surely was next! Once the dragon was done with the roses, he surely would come for him.

Then, the dragon stopped firing its flames and disappeared in the clouds again.

This is it, she thought. He's going to come back for my brother!

But instead, she heard distant cries, and many specks came out of the woods, rushing into a mass of disorganized little peas rolling around. She saw the specks of Edmure's army stay put, then finally charge forwards.

A few moments later, a relative silence fell upon the battlefield.

Catelyn started to worry. Did she misjudge where Edmure was? Did the dragon annihilate him and was the creature coming for them, now?

She had no time to panic. A small host of horsemen were running back to the castle, and a man-at-arms shouted.

"Tully colors, my lady!"

Catelyn breathed a small sigh of relief, but waited till the horsemen were in range. Then the man-at-arms turned towards her in shock.

"Stark colors, my lady! Stark, Manderly and Karstark!"

Catelyn didn't have time to process this information. Instead, flanked by Arya and Uncle Brynden, she rushed down the steps two by two, nearly breaking her neck as she did.

A commotion had formed on the portcullis as the horsemen rushed in. Amidst them, she noticed Edmure, safe and sound.

"Edmure!" she shouted amidst the crowd. "What happened?"

"He's with us!" Edmure removed his helm with a broad smile. "The dragon is with us! He destroyed the Tyrell army! And the Northmen came back!"

A man clad in Karstark colors noticed her and immediately unhorsed and bent the knee. Removing his helm, Catelyn noticed the unmistakable figure of Rickard Karstark.

"My lady." He immediately got to his knees. "We came as soon as we could. I…"

"Jon, where is Jon!" Arya immediately rushed to her side and yelled at the man.

The northern lord was about to say something when a roar pierced the air.

The massive blue dragon circled once above Riverrun, before settling on the field just beyond the portcullis where the camp once stood. She noticed a figure jumping off of the dragon's wing, and she wasn't the only one.

The soldiers on the portcullis all made way for the mysterious figure, who quickly walked forwards, the dragon taking to the skies yet again.

Slowly, Catelyn could make out the features of the man, for he was definitely a man with that stature. Then she could make out his armor, his hair…and…no. Impossible.

The man stepped forwards and breathed a sigh of relief.

"Sorry that we're late."

Catelyn didn't have time to speak a single word. Her body started to feel numb, and she collapsed.

When she woke up, it was in her rooms, along with a splitting headache, just as if she had drunk an entire cask of the ale the northmen were so fond of.

Voices came out through the room, and someone brought her a glass of water. She could hardly remember anything…or did she? Was it all a dream?

"Rest easy, Cat," a voice she recognized as her brother's told her. "You need to rest."

"Edmure, is that you?" she asked, downing the water and rubbing her eyes. "What happened?"

"You fainted," Edmure replied while she made out his features, slowly coming out of her trance-like state. "We had someone watch all night over you."

"It…it happened did it not? The dragon…was it real?" she asked, shaking.

Edmure looked behind him, and nodded.

"Yes. The dragon was real. He annihilated the Tyrell host, and Ser Garlan with it," Edmures tone darkened. "It took several hours to find his charred body, we only recognized him because of his armor..."

"Then…" she blinked, finally noticing the other people in the room. There was Uncle Brynden, Arya and…Jon Snow.

"You…" she almost whispered. "You were the dragonrider. How…"

"It's…" the bastard made to speak, but it was Arya that jolted out of her seat.

"Mother, Jon isn't father's!" she yelled.

"What?" Catelyn asked, confused.

"Arya, your mother just got up, do not yell." The bastard put a small hand on his shoulder.

Arya nodded eagerly. Instead, it was her uncle Brynden that spoke up.

"Cat," he spoke softly. "If a Stark can ride a dragon, how do you think it happened?"

She looked at her uncle, and then her eyes went wide in realization.

"No." She shook her head. "No, no, no, no, no. Ned would have told me. He told me everything, he would have told me this."

"He wanted no one to know," The b…no…Jon spoke. "He thought it best that no one knew, not even you, in order to not drag anyone else in case Robert found out. At least, that's what Lord Reed told me."

"Lord Reed…" Catelyn whispered, cursing inwardly. "Who else knew?"

"Only him and Lord Dayne, as it stands. Lord Dayne took the secret to his grave," he replied. "My real name isn't even Jon, it's Daeron. My father only named me that to honor his foster father."

"And…" she made to speak, but Jon…no…Daeron, interrupted her.

"Please, don't call me that. I'd rather not bear the name given to me by the man who…defiled my mother. I grew up as Jon, I don't see why I shouldn't keep this name."

"Very well, your grace." Catelyn downed another full glass of water.

"Lord Regent, if it pleases you, my lady," Jon answered. "The King in the North is Rickon Stark. It would not do for me to oppose him."

"Rickon is alive?" Catelyn sprung up from the bed, Edmure only barely restraining her.

Jon nodded slowly.

"And Bran?" she asked.

"Nowhere to be found," Jon replied, his voice strained. "Our men are still looking."

Catelyn fell back into the bed, defeated. Still, Rickon was alive and well. But she still had questions.

"And the wildlings? The dragon?"

"The wildlings were a cover story for the dragon. I struck a deal with them to let them resettle into the gift for the upcoming winter. As for the dragon, it came from Maester Aemon's egg, which hatched on his pyre, and then came to me."

"You let the wildlings in?" she nearly choked. "Have you gone mad?"

"It was necessary," Jon replied simply. "A lot of things have changed since you left, and you may want to make your way to Winterfell as soon as possible. I shall arrange to have you led there."

Catelyn's eyes narrowed slightly.

"I won't lie to you, my lady," Jon said slowly. "I need someone to guide Rickon, and I cannot do so why I continue waging war in the South. But I know what the Northmen say of you. They only sing praises, and it seems like you knew the North just as well as any Northman. I therefore ask of you to protect Rickon and act as Regent in my stead."

"And Arya?" Catelyn's eyes widened slowly at the declaration.

"She will come with you."

"No!" Arya protested. "I want to stay with you."

"Arya, it isn't safe." Jon sighed. "What I'm about to do is wage war. It will not be pretty and it will not be the place for a young girl like you, even one as brave as you. You will be safer with your mother and Rickon in Winterfell."

"I can handle myself," Arya protested.

"Arya, I cannot look after you all the time. I have to be with Winter, lead my men and organize our future battles. If I cannot look after you, I cannot guarantee your safety, I'm sorry." Jon shook his head. "If something happens to you…I will not forgive myself."

"Lord Jon is right," Edmure cut in. "You will be safer in Winterfell, and you'll be able to see Rickon again."

"I can give you Ghost to protect you, and to have something to remind you of me, if you wish," Jon added. "I don't think Ghost would do well in the South."

Arya frowned and let out a curse Catelyn didn't know a person so young could know. She raged for a moment, then stamped out of the room, slamming the door behind her.

"She will come around…" Jon sighed.

"And you?" Catelyn asked. "What will you do?"

"Send the Northern footmen home, and then secure the Riverlands so that House Tully may not worry about any more…incursions," he replied. "And then, strike at the Reach. No need to make any detours. Goldengrove, Highgarden, Horn Hill and Oldtown, this should do."

"May…I ask for something?" Catelyn asked softly.

"If it is within my power and reason, of course, my lady."

"Sansa…" she whispered. "Sansa is at the Eyrie. Lysa has her. Bring her home as well, please."

Jon looked at Edmure uncomfortably, and then spoke again:

"I'm sorry, my lady, but Lady Lysa Arryn is dead. She was killed after trying to have all the Royces arrested for Lord Baelish's murder. And we have no news of Sansa."

Catelyn's face went from red to white. The glass she held fell on the floor, and she collapsed once again.

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