Chapter 5: The Boy Who Would Be King - Part 4

Finding the Heart Tree was a trial all on its own.

There was no path in the Godswood, no doubt to avoid disturbing the plant life, and were this any other time and any other situation I would respect that, as a (former) environmental enthusiast.

In the middle of the night, by my lonesome and off to meet an eldritch supernatural force that may or may not shatter my mind and reduce me to a vegetative state.... well.

Think happy thoughts

(Fire and air so cold rushing past my ears, broken promises and why what did I do why why why?)

Fuck.

The earth underneath me crunched with every step I took, and It took genuine effort not to flinch with every movement forward. The Godswood seemed more shadow and blackness than nature, and it seemed to go on forever and ever. The cold was getting harder to bear, my makeshift cloak proving to be a flimsy protection against long exposure. I had almost lost my nerve and turned around when I came across a very familiar clearing.

The Heart tree of Winterfell was foreboding, to begin with, but in the dead of night, its face looked outright monstrous, seeming to glare down at me like a beast a heartbeat away from pouncing. Its leaves, color near black in the night rustled with the wind, and I swear what should have been a rather commonplace sound instead resembled whispers, as if the tree was talking to me.

I exhaled. This was it. I stepped over a massive white tree root, thrice as wide as I was tall. Shakily, I reached out and placed a hand on the white bark, between the two carved eyes.

"Bloodraven"

Leaves rustled, and the wind seemed to pick up for an instant before settling.

Nothing happened

(No no no no no no)

I pressed my hand into the wood with more force, the rising tide of hysteria nearly drowning me "Brynden Rivers? Grand uncle? I need your guidance. Please"

Tears started to prickly in my eyes as I held my hand there to no result, and the cold dread set in when I realized that it didn't work.

Anger and fear shot through me, suddenly, as the reality of my failure set in (it didn't work I was alone I was going to die AGAIN)

Between one heartbeat and the next, I was hammering the tree with both fists clenched, headless of the cuts and bruises I accumulated as I screamed my rage and cursed everything.

Why?!

Then,

Brilliant crimson light erupted from the eyes and mouth of the heart tree, blinding me instantly. White hot pain seemed to lance clean through my body before skewering my brain, the agony so intense I could hardly scream.

I get a strange sensation, as though something was wrapping around me before tugging me forward with inescapable strength, and then,

I

Was​

Falling​

...

My eyes opened at the sound of thunder. Overhead, the sky was darkened with thunderclouds, the wind howling.

I sat up groggily, brushing the sand off my - sand?

I stared around in wonder. Right ahead of me, the ocean stretched until the darkened horizon, waves nearly twice my height slamming onto the beachfront. The sand was, despite the weather, some of the most beautiful I'd ever seen, a shade halfway between dull yellow and white that was most pleasing to the eye. I stood up, only for shock to slam into me like a freight train. The smell of salt, sulfur, and.... brimstone, perhaps, was prominent.

I stared in stunned disbelief at my, hand, before staring down. My favorite plain white shirt, a cotton blue jacket, and a pair of loose-fitting jeans. My hands trembled as I rubbed them over my face, beholding the oh-so-familiar sharp jawline, straight nose, and soft conditioned hair.

It was my body, my adult body.

"Yes!" I howled to the sky in victory, arms shooting up overhead "I'm back!"

I jumped around like a hooligan, glee coursing through my veins because I was back, back back,

Then I turned around and was struck dumb (This was going to thing, wasn't it?")

A titanic pitch black volcano, for what other mountain could spew ash in such a way, towered ahead of me, and at its base...

A castle stood there, seemingly built into the base of the volcano itself, with black walls, walkways, and towers built in the most foreboding architecture I'd seen in either of my lives.

"Dragonstone" I recognized it instantly, and thunder boomed overhead once mo-

I froze. That wasn't thunder. I glanced up and fell to my knees

Dear god above.

My mind blanked, my body went numb. I didn't believe I had the capacity to react to what I saw. Overhead, a black, winged behemoth flew forward, the snap of gargantuan wings so loud it rivaled the thunder itself. Scales so black they seemed to eat the light around them and a massive tail that extended from its lower back.

The dragon roared, and the sound was so loud I could literally feel it.

It rocketed towards the castle, before circling once, twice, and landing, disappearing from sight.

Two other roars followed, and overhead two similar beasts passed, one deep silver and the other sharp green.

I stayed on my knees. Dragons.

"I'm not back." My voice was the faintest it had ever been, and could hardly hear myself over the crashing of the ocean's waves and the thunder booming overhead "This is a dream. A literal waking dream"

"No" it sounded as though an innumerable number of people were talking at once "A memory of a time long past"

Before I could even hope to react, The world fell away again, and I found myself in a chamber of black stone, overlooking the beginnings of a great storm. Outside, I could see the dragons had returned to the sky, their cries and awe-inspiring song.

"Well, Aegon?"

I whirled around. Three people stood over a table covered in a white tarp. One was a tall, well-built man, dressed in a black and red tunic and breeches. The other were two women, the similarities between them so obvious they had to be family, and closely related at that, though one looked far stricter than the other. All three of them had eyes of deep purple and silver hair of a shade I'd never seen before.

"The dreams haven't changed" Aegon's voice was grim, and tinged not with defeat, but resignation as he bowed his head "Someday in the future, a great evil shall come from the distant north to end the world of man and plunge it into darkness eternal. I've never been surer of anything."

"I will not dismiss your dreams, Aegon" The woman with the strict features had a voice that was not kind, but nor was it unkind "The dreamer saved our house from the Doom. To dismiss them would be folly. But we must discuss what you intend to do"

"Missives, perhaps" The other woman spoke up "Send missives to the rulers of the Kingdoms, and have them prepare."

The other woman snorted "We would be laughed out of hand, Rhaenys. Dreams of the end of the world at a date not specified? They hardly believe the story of Daenys, Aegon would become a laughingstock and our house with him."

Rhaenys scowled "We are the last of the dragon lords. They laugh at us at their own risk, Visenya."

"It's been well over a century since the doom, sister." was the reply "The world has forgotten why Valyria was so feared. To them, we would be foreign upstarts trying to disturb their kingdoms with tales more fit for frightened children than self-important kings and queens."

"Then we do nothing?" Rhaenys shot back "Leave things as they are, and all that stands between the world of men and certain doom is a continent divided into seven ever-warring kingdoms, ruled by 'great' houses that have stagnated for so long they've forgotten what greatness is"

"Peace, my loves" Aegon the conqueror, for who else could he be, looked up. And I flinched back, for the resignation was gone, replaced by fiery determination. Rhaenys and Visenya straightened, sensing the change in mood, and the latter had the barest beginnings of a smile in place.

"I will not let the world of man end" Aegon's voice was hard as iron, conviction in his tone "I will not let all there is and could still be end because petty rulers care more for lands and titles than they do their own people. I will not have it."

Outside, the black dragon landed. "Balerion, the black dread' I thought with awe.

Aegon gripped hold of the tarp and heaved, unveiling a table in the shape of a continent, major holding, boundary lines, and paths painted in clear colors.

"I will unite Westeros" He promised, his sisters staring at the table in amazement as they circled it and came to stand at either side of him "Seven kingdoms will be forged into one, and house Targaryen shall sit a throne worthy of the last descendants of Great Valyria and the protectors of the realm for all time, ever vigilant and ready for the day where the doom comes for us all."

He turned to his sisters "Will you support me?"

Visenya glared at him, offended, and Rhaenys snorted "Dear husband, must you ask? However, I do believe we need to discuss strategies. I doubt the rulers of the seven kingdoms will be eager to hand you their crowns."

He smiled for a moment, then, and looked to the table "You were right. The rulers of old who established the kingdoms were great in their own way, but their descendants have forgotten what that truly means. No matter."

Outside, The Black Dread roared.

"I will teach them"

'What is this?!"

...​

I blinked

What the fuck?

The room had shifted, and I now stood in a gargantuan chamber. Ahead of me... A dragon skull so large an elephant could have comfortably fit in its maw.

"Promise me, Rhaenyra"

I whirled to see a man who vaguely resembled Aegon, though pudgier and wearing a crown of gold, looming over a girl who was the very image of Rhaenys.

His hand reached out to grasp her shoulders with fervor

"You must pass this dagger, and the legacy it holds, onto your heir alone. Promise me, Rhaenyra, Promise!"

The girl nodded "I promise, Father"

Why are you showing me this?

...​

This time, I found myself staring in open-jawed horror as I flew (how I knew not). The ocean stretched in every direction, and a fleet of ships was burning. Directly beneath me was a dragon, green of scales with golden frills. It was injured, though, with a massive black iron bolt lodged into its upper chest. Its flight was erratic, and I knew it wouldn't last long. On its back, a boy who was even younger than my real age was tied to a saddle. Grim acceptance was in his expression.

"We'll die, Vermax. I've known since before this war began that House Targaryen will fall." the boy spoke with certainty 'But there is still hope. The conqueror's legacy shall remain protected, safe from those who would seek to destroy it, and hidden where only the blood of the dragon will be able to reach it. Now come, old friend, once more to the end!"

My head hurt too much too much I don't understand!

And with a vicious (and final) roar, the dragon dove.

...​

"My Prince?"

"Let me tell you, my lady, of the Song of Ice and Fire

"Stop!"

...​

A throne of iron that stretched in all directions, blades jagged and deadly. On it sat a mad husk of a man, disheveled features and hair that trailed to his lower back, gnarled nails so large they sank to the floor in waves.

"Burn them all! Burn them in their homes! burn them in their beds!

"No please!"

...​

A mountain, a wailing babe held brutally in his hand as he reared back while a woman screamed.

"No more please!!"

...​

A little girl screamed as the weight of a vile monster pinned her in place. A knife rose and came down

...​

"Promise me, Ned."

"Nononononono!"

...​

I gasped as I stumbled to my feet. A cave, this time, earthy black with pale roots crisscrossing through the walls, the ceiling, and the ground.

Oh god

In front of me, a pale, skeletal man in black rags that had long since rotted lay entwined in a throne of Weirwood roots. His skin was pale, making the red blotch on his cheek and skin stand out all the more. As I watched, his skin seemed to writhe as something tore and ripped its way through it. Before my horrified eyes, his left eye burst as a pale, thin root speared its way out, dripping blood and viscera. His right snapped open, the red orb focusing on me with terrifying intensity.

"Let us speak then, Usurper"

...​

A/N: Wooohooo! Hot damn this chapter was hard to write.

But anyway, our boy just got the world's most interactive history lesson, and Bloodraven sure as hell isn't done with him yet!

Next Chapter: The Boy Who Would Be King - Part 5