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GOT/ASOIAF: Son of the Unworthy

Waking up to find you have died and are being given a second chance at life can be disorientating. Finding out you have been sent to a world you have seen on TV can be even more so. Being sent before the events of the show by a good 100 years is only the icing on the cake when you have to deal with being an infant with the mind of an 18-year-old. Things are off to a rough start but Aerion Targaryen will give it his best to live the best second life he can. Alright, that is the introduction, this is a Fan Fic of a person of our time who finished all of the Game of Thrones tv show. He is thrown into the body of a Stillborn infant who is the son of Aegon the Unworthy by his legal wife. This is the same Stillborn who was the twin brother to Daenerys who married into Dorne to bring them into the 7 kingdoms, it's a canon still born I didn't BS this one into existence. MC is going to have a heavy satire start that is meant more as a joke than anything else because this story is for fun. I repeat this story is for fun and I won't pull random bull crap from my hat too much but I won't take it as seriously as my other GoT fic. MC does not know the lore of the world and is a casual fan so when he says something stupid it is his own take, not mine. Keep that in mind. Oh, Daenerys Stormborn the mother of dragons is also reborn into the Daenerys who is his twin. I did it for fun and also because I thought it would be a fun twist. She was stabbed in the heart by Jon Snow and wakes up in the body of her namesake as an Infant. Cool concept.

Pretending_Author · หนังสือและวรรณกรรม
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130 Chs

121

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208 AC

Kingslanding

Aerion Targaryen

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"You don't seem to understand." I shake my head as I look down at the High Septon as he shakes a bit in suppressed fury.

"What do I not understand... demon." He spits on the Small Councils table which I shake my head at as I slowly walk around the table.

"This is happening, you can't stop me..." He grits his teeth causing his fat cheeks to jiggle a bit all the way down to his hanging chin.

How is he this fat?

Food is pretty healthy all things considered.

He must drink a lot of wine.

"The Seven will protect us from you, your foul kind will perish under the light of their Seven-Pointed Star." I shake my head as I come to a stop and halfway sit on the table beside where he is sitting.

Looking down at him still, I can see the anger and displeasure in his eyes.

He actually believes what he is saying.

Strange.

There are no Seven.

I can confirm as much, even the starved shepherd priest Danny tortured had more 'godly' presence than even the largest statues of the Seven in the Great Sept of Baelor.

I grow more powerful every day as people pray more and more to Me and less to R'hllor.

For a month now I have been able to practically sniff out people of other faiths and their places for worship.

Faith.

I can sense Faith.

There is a tidal wave of Faith in this city.

It surges toward the Great Sept of Baelor.

But not even a drop of it reaches its intended target.

"Your Gods were created by men, they carefully crafted them to have a better hold over the people under their rule." I have already debunked a lot of the myths involving the Seven as well.

The Seven gave the Andals the knowledge to smith iron?

My Daughter in law the Mother Rhoyne showed me that was bullshit herself one night over dinner with the rest of the family.

The Seven guided the Andals away from their flatlands and mountain ranges in Essos?

The Andals fled the Dragon Lords of Valyria and went to the lands where they once found trade with the First Men and stole their castles and lands in the name of their righteous 'Gods'.

One by one I have slowly dug up the truth.

I only lack actually seeing the meeting where the people who came up with the Seven did so.

Maybe it was just one person?

It's possible, dude must have had some crazy Charisma to make it work though.

Hmm.

It could have been done with good intentions.

The core values of the Seven are not all that bad if I am honest.

There is just... to much wiggle room for scumbags to do scumbag things to those less fortunate.

I guess all religions are like that though.

That or the people in power don't actually care about what their God says...

"Lies." I shake off the rapid-fire thoughts only a moment after having spoken when the High Septon stands with a surprising amount of speed knocking back his chair. "You will not succeed." He practically growls as he juts out a sausage link finger at my chest.

"I already have." I calmly reply. "I brought you here out of respect, I needed not to even give you any, instead I could have just burned down the Sept on top of your head as Maegor the Cruel once did." I shake my head as memories of that day flash before my eyes.

It was quite something to watch with my own eyes.

Balerion doing Balerion things is always a sight to see.

A living and fire-breathing legend at one point, now he is a mythical figure of House Targaryen.

A figure that I want to see as flesh and blood again... as Fire and Blood.

"You would only prove you are a Demon by doing such." The Septon taunts while shaking his head.

"I know." I nod.

His eyes widen a bit.

"You know?" I nod back at him with a slightly wry smile.

"You brought in the sick and old as meat shields... hostages against me." His eyes widen even more and I look toward one of the open windows that shows the Great Sept in the distance.

Moonfyre circles overheard, something the Septon only now is noticing.

His fat chin wobbles a bit as his lips open and close.

"I am forging this world and all of its people into one Empire." His head turns to me as if he wants to look at me but his eyes can't tear away from the sight of Moonfyre circling the Sept. "I am willing to do anything to see my goal completed." His eyes break off from the Sept and settle on me with his pupils shrunk slightly.

"A-Anything?" I nod and he gulps.

"Anything." I set a hand upon his shoulder and squeeze it, not with all of my strength as that would turn the bone into a powder, but enough to hold him in place. "Don't make this harder than it needs to be." His face grimaces and I smile at him.

What he doesn't know is that Sept is safe for now.

I am having my Brother summon all of the Lords of Westeros to Harrenhal.

There I will tell them the truth.

I am their God, if they have a problem with that then they can fight me over it... all at once if that pleases them.

This gathering will be the true beginning of my faith spread in Westeros.

I will try to take a gentle approach.

I will show dreams of a better future.

My Priests will heal and treat the sick all over the continent.

Those who show a strong displeasure will have a chance to debate with me or even challenge me. But without a doubt... Westeros just like Essos will have only one Religion by the time I am done with it.

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208 AC

Old Town

Gerold Hightower

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"This is..." I shake my head as I read over the 'invitation' to Harrenhal where a gathering of the Lords will be held.

"The Demon is making his move, we knew he would once word reached us from Volantis." I nod remembering what I learned months ago.

A Prince jumped into flames that burned hundreds of living people like wood and he emerged unburnt.

They call him a God.

"What will we do?" I can't help but feel a deep disgust at knowing the King is going along with his Demonic Brother.

They should have all died during the Dance.

Those Dragons came up from the grave inside of the cradle of the very Demon now claiming to be a God.

It is all starting to make sense.

A foulness is upon our lands... a creeping darkness that will swallow us all if not dealt with.

"We will do nothing." My Brother, the Lord of the Hightower snorts and turns his nose up.

"Nothing?" I shake my head and lean forward. "The King has sent this invitation." My Brother looks unbothered and I get a bad feeling in my gut.

"Conspiring with the Demon will do us no good... we need to consult with the Gods... we must pray for guidance." His look turns far off and an odd gleam shimmers in the dark brown depths.

"Prayer is how you plan to deal with the Seven Kingdoms falling into the hands of an abomination?" His eyes sharpen and glare at me.

"The Seven Kingdoms have been ruled by abominations for the past two hundred years." He growls out and I slump back into my chair.

He speaks of the Targaryens as a whole.

Does he forget our own family carries their blood thanks to Rhaena Targaryen?

Something is wrong... he is acting strange.

This news is disturbing.

But not enough for him to act out like this.

"Are you unwell?" I ask while keeping my voice even and calm.

"I am as hale and strong as any other day." His gaze shifts to the door and he juts out his chin silently dismissing me.

Something is wrong.

Standing my armor clinks as I make my way around the low table and head toward the door without a word.

But as I push it open I hazard a glance back to see him glaring hatefully out the window.

Something is going on with him.

I need to get to the bottom of it.

Soon.

Thanks for reading!!!

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