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The Phoenix - A GOT Fan-Fiction

Immortal. All-powerful. A singular existence in the cosmos. The Phoenix. Thoughtlessly leaving comment on a forum one night, had Phenex thrust into the world of Planetos, as a being of nigh-unlimited power. And with his arrival the destiny of Westeros and the rest of the world will never be the same. ................................ This Fan-Fiction is about the Game of Thrones Series with minor elements from the books. It is a slow paced story and therefore a bit different than my other works. There will be a multi-pairing, but not in a typical harem setting. Meaning the MC will have multiple partners, but they do not necessarily stay with him and are not his silent trophies. Though he will of course have permanent partners. I will upload this story monthly, but more than 35 advanced chapters of this story are on my p@treon account, which I update daily. This account isn't a priority of mine and just exists to stop others from stealing my intellectual property. (My p@treon-acc: www.p@treon.com/GodOfFreedom; Don't forget to change the @ for an a...) Last, but not least, I don't own anything but my own characters, as I do not own the cover image, which I found on the internet. If you are the creator and want me to take it down, just send me a message or leave a comment. Enjoy!

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162 Chs

Chapter 149 – “Or they will burn”

[302 AC]

"We have an army of fifty thousand men, along with several hundred sorcerers and a massive dragon, what is there to discuss?!", Edmund Tully, Lord Paramount of the Trident under Robb Stark, stated with an impatient expression, "From what we know the wildlings have at most twenty thousand fighting men. If you give the command, we can take the Wall back in less than an hour, Robb."

Many of the gathered Lords in the large command tent, Northern and Southern, voiced out their agreement for Edmund's proposal, especially the ones from the North, as they held deep-seated hatred for the wildlings who had raided their homes countless times in the past.

All the forces under the King in the North, including forces from the Riverlands and the reinforcements sent by the Red Temple, were currently resting a few miles south of Castle Black, discussing their next steps as the Wall had already fallen into the hands of the wildlings before they had even managed to gather here.

Robb though, sat there in silence, a light frown on his face, while Grey Wind was laying behind his seat, the direwolf's senses primed for any possible threat.

"You forget yourself, Riverlander.", a quiet, yet enchanting voice sounded out in response instead, causing the commotion in the tent to die down near-instantly, as every pair of eyes present fell on the gorgeous, dark-haired woman who sat in a large wooden armchair, wearing a coal-black fur coat over her blood-red gown.

The space behind her was occupied by the solemn-looking High Priest Thoros of Myr and the young dragonrider Jaehaerys Targaryen, who carried an oppressive, yet restrained aura around him, as well as an attractive female warrior clad in tight-fitting leather armor with an arakh hanging at her side, her posture and the look in her eyes displaying nothing but calm confidence.

The Young Wolf knew her, as this was the Feather that had saved his wife from Black Walder, proving that the dark-haired woman who had just spoken was most certainly a high-ranking member of the Red Temple.

Additionally, the other Lords present didn't dare to sit or stand too close to her and risk offending her, knowing of her identity very well.

Piercing crystal eyes stared down at Edmund Tully, as the woman continued in an icy tone, her voice still carrying its innate hint of sensuality: "No member of the temple will raise his weapon against a man or woman of the free folk without provocation. The Red Temple did not come this far North to start a war with the living. And most certainly the warriors of the temple will not move into battle under anybody's orders but mine."

Swallowing hard, the Lord of House Tully didn't reply directly, afraid that his voice might crack, cold sweat running down his back as he found himself being put under great pressure by the Red Priestess' glare.

"M-my apologies, High Priestess. I didn't mean any offense.", he finally managed to squeeze out in the dead silence that held the whole command tent hostage, his words carrying none of his former overbearingness and confidence, instead his tone was humble and somewhat fearful.

Still, none of the present Lords and Ladies found it strange or even held his weakness against him, as the dark-haired woman was not a simple priestess. She was the First Servant of the Lord of Light, Flame of Truth, Light of Wisdom, and first High Priestess of the Red Temple.

She was Kinvara the Red Queen, lover of the Red God, and the most powerful sorceress of the Red Temple. Besides the Red God himself, her words carried the greatest authority in the entire temple, and not even the bravest or most stupid of man would not want to offend her under any circumstances.

"The High Priestess is right.", the Northern King finally spoke up, his words breaking the tense silence, as he continued, "We did not come here to fight the living. Not to mention that we need every single man if we want to have a chance of fighting back the army of the dead, which is making its way South as we speak."

"I know of the grudges and the resentment many of you carry for the wildlings, I myself am no different."

"For hundreds of years, Starks enlisted in the Night's Watch and fought against the wildlings. Not only fought against them but also died at their hands. Now the Night's Watch is no more, slaughtered to the last man by the wildlings."

"And believe me, if it weren't for the dead marching on the wall, led by more than a dozen White Walkers, who threaten the whole Kingdom, I would not hesitate to raise my blade to cut down every last one of those savages."

"But the dead are coming, and to survive we cannot waste time, and men, fighting with the wildlings. Not to mention that it is highly likely that we will need their help to man the Wall, as even fifty thousand men are not enough to guard a wall of three hundred miles against tens of thousands, maybe hundreds of thousands of wights and more."

"I hope you all understand that the outcome of this battle cannot be left to fate. We have to win or else our families, wives, and children are all doomed.", Robb ended darkly, his words weighing heavily in the ears of those listening.

"So what are we going to do, my King?", Geatjon asked tentatively after several moments of silence passed.

"I will meet with the leader of the wildlings and try to come to an agreement with them.", Robb answered, "The fact that they stayed on the Wall, instead of invading the lands further South makes me believe that they are not oblivious to the fact that there is no running from this battle."

"I agree.", Kinvara voiced out calmly, before any of the nobles present could voice their objections, though by the expressions some of them carried, they clearly wanted to.

"Gaining the free folk's assistance in the coming battle will be of great help.", she stated confidently, "For hundreds of years they managed to slip past the guard of the Night's Watch. If there is anyone knowing how to best guard against an invasion from beyond the wall then it clearly is them who have already managed to overcome the Wall's natural defenses many times."

"I will join you in your meeting with them, King Stark.", Kinvara added.

"Of course, High Priestess.", the Young Wolf agreed with a calm nod, knowing it would be impossible to convince or order her to do otherwise, not that he wanted to do so in the first place.

Ever since the news of the Red God saving his wife and healing his younger brother had reached his ears, the young King held immense gratitude for the temple and its god. This goodwill naturally extended towards the priestess, who was widely acknowledged to be the lover of the Red God.

"What if the wildlings don't want to come to an agreement, my Lord?", a slightly raspy female voice, belonging to the Lady of Bear Island, suddenly sounded out.

Her question was not unreasonable, as the wildlings were not known for their willingness to cooperate, and the conflict between them and those inhabiting the lands South of the Wall had been ongoing for thousands of years.

They lived by different rules and even though creating a temporary alliance was the best choice to make, who could guarantee that it also was the choice they would make in the end?

Even Robb could only frown deeply as he thought of this, knowing that a conflict might be inevitable between them and the wildlings after all if they didn't manage to come to a consensus.

Once again it was Kinvara's voice that drew the attention of the whole command tent, her flawless features displaying an icy look, as a frozen fire burned in her crystal gaze.

"They will.", she answered Maege Mormont's question, "Or they will burn."

Obviously, the gorgeous, dark-haired priestess didn't want to lead the Fiery Hand and her warrior priests against the free folk, but that didn't mean that she would not do so if their leaders could not see reason at this critical juncture.

Like her love, Kinvara had no mercy for tyrants and fools.

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This story is already finished on my p@treon account with 162 chapters. I will probably only upload the rest here occasionally, as this account isn't a priority of mine and just exists to stop others from stealing my intellectual property.

(My p@treon-acc: www.p@treon.com/GodOfFreedom; Don't forget to change the @ for an a...)

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