122
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208 AC
Harrenhal
Aerion Targaryen
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"I am not sure if I am laying it on thick or just enough..." I mutter as I sit at the Head of the High table in the Hall of a hundred hearths.
"No one is glaring at us anymore." Mya mutters back as she enjoys her favorite foods she has been missing since we left Harrenhal.
"I have noticed, but even after meeting some of the Lords in private I still am unsure how this will turn out." I would hate to have to fly around Westeros on Moonfyre and burn down each sept manually.
It would be far simpler and less wasteful for the Lords to manage the Septs in their holdings and start the conversion themselves. They can have the Seven rooted out and replaced with my own faith icons and teachings. It will take generations before a full shift is noticeable, I fully expect people to still pray to their old Gods in their own homes and whatnot.
But the process will be started.
I don't want to have to light half of the continent on fire to make it so... but I will do what I must.
"Hmm." Squinting my eyes I let my thoughts wander. "I hope the meeting with the 'Old Gods' goes well..." I know the Old Gods of the North are at least 'real', but it's hard to tell what state they are in.
They don't even have names.
What I have come to learn is the more people believe in something the stronger it is.
How can the Old Gods be strong if their names are not even known?
They are likely wisps clinging on to the world.
Subtly glancing to the side at Mya as she munches on a Jam stuffed pastry she raises a milk chocolate brown brow at me. I smile as she looks at me in utter confusion, my thoughts shift between trying to make her the new 'Old God' and how goofy she looks with blueberry jam smeared on her lips.
"You are beautiful." She purses her purple-stained lips and then raises her chin a bit in a 'haughty' fashion.
"Of course." She responds with a clear and confident voice before her lips tremble a bit and she soon lowers her head chuckling a bit.
Goofball.
"Are you pestering Mya?" Daenerys asks from my other side and I shake my head and block Mya with my body as she attempts to nod at Danny's question.
"I am doing no such thing." Danny hums thoughtfully before turning to focus back on her own meal.
Seems everyone was missing the cooks in Harrenhal.
Hmm.
It's probably about time I renamed this castle.
Looking around I can't even picture the way it looked when I first arrived.
Sure I could check it out in the flames or a dream.
But I like the way it is now and I don't want to remember the way it was when I first received this place.
A new name would be fitting, especially with the plans I have for this place.
It's pretty much the center of Westeros and has the Gods Eye that has a river leading out into Black Water Bay.
Its perfect for a center of power on this continent, it always was.
Maybe the Gods Eye could have something built upon it once I deal with the Old Gods?
That might could be better, but that would be a more private family housing, unlike this castle where we will meet people and hold events.
It would look odd for me to host events as a 'God' in a castle named after an Iron Born Tyrant.
No.
This place needs a new name fitting the purpose it will one day serve.
I might would call it 'Dragons Nest' after having raised my own children here... but that name has been used up North.
"Hmm." Thoughtfully I hum as I look down at the large hall before me with a vast majority of Westeros Lords and Ladies sitting around enjoying their morning meal.
I will think about it.
It will be important in the future so I should not rush it.
My gaze shifts over the Lords from the Reach and I can't help but frown.
"Still no news from the HighTowers?" I ask Gwenys and she obviously knows as she leans forward and Mya leans back to let her speak directly toward me.
A small baby dragon chirps from her shoulder as it is jostled around by the sudden movement. The sight of the next generation of dragons brings a smile to my face as Gwenys soothes the chirping hatchling absent-mindedly.
"Nothing has come in, their ravens are either not reaching us or they are intentionally ignoring this gathering and all of the inquiries I have sent." I nod at her words as she leans back while turning her attention to her hatchling that is trying to climb her hair.
"Not good." I frown as I look down at the table before me.
"Will you fly over?" Danny asks and I slowly nod.
"I have to, the Lords gathered here obviously can see the HighTowers are not here... it makes us look bad if we do nothing about their refusal." I sigh and shake my head.
Oldtown has the largest population in Westeros.
Kingslanding is not far behind and here at Harrenhal the town outside is rapidly growing and is closing in on half a million people.
It would be a pity if that city had to burn.
"Maybe I can just melt down the tower and burn there Sept?" I do not need to burn the masses that may not even know what is going on, in this instance at least.
I can make an example of those causing problems and then have word spread among the people of the city.
They will be shocked most likely.
Maybe a bit angered?
But they will move on with life and go where their interests are.
Which is living.
The masses main concern is life itself.
They want to live.
Which they will, they will live in the world I will build for everyone.
One Empire.
One language.
One Religion.
One people.
Unity.
Harmony like never before seen.
Peace from now to the end of days.
There is still a lot of work to be done, mountains of work in fact.
But I can almost see the finish line.
I just need to get there... even if it means I have to drag everyone kicking and screaming.
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208 AC
Old Town
Gerold Hightower
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"Ah... you are awake." I blink open my eyes and find I am in a dark stone room with a few torches scattered about on wall mounts.
"Brother?" I ask with a hoarse voice as I spot my Brother standing on the other side of the room in a strange outfit.
There are other people... each in cloaks or hoods.
Red.
Their outfits are Red.
Stained.
A stench hits my nose and causes me to dry heave as I realizes what it is when memories surface in my mind.
Rot and Decay.
Blood and Gore.
The first and last time I smelled this was at a port city that had been raided by Iron Born.
"Brother?!" I try and stand up and find I am hanging from chains on the stone wall.
"You should have just kept your head down." He shakes his head at me and gestures for one of the hooded men to bring him something. "Everything is going according to plan... if only you did not try and find the truth... you could have lived." I gulp as he is handed a large knife made of twisted metal that looks to have been ground to an edge against a rock.
What in the Seven Hells is going on?!
"What are you doing!?" My Brother approaches me with the wicked blade, an odd look in his haunted features.
"We can't expect the Gods to do all the work... we must do our part as well... if we want them to bring salvation..." I try and jerk my arms down from the iron cuffs and the metal bites into my flesh as I do.
My panic does not seem to bother my Kin as he drags the nails of his fingers across the blade. He comes to a stop before me and looks at me with pity but also a bit of joy that flickers in his eyes.
I have never seen him like this.
This is madness.
"Know that your death will weigh on me... but will bring about salvation for all of Westeros... for all of the world." He raises the blade and I trash against my restraints.
But to no avail.
The evil blade is brought down and sinks into my chest with ease.
Pain.
Pain like I have never before felt.
But strangely enough.
It is numbed out quickly.
Instead of opening my mouth to scream.
I shut my eyes.
Tired... I have never been... this tired...
"Dream well Brother... we will all soon join you... and him..." My brother's words echo in my mind as everything turns to black.
Color fades as wisps of black spring up from nowhere and slowly wrap around everything I know.
The rancid smell in my nose turns instead into a salty scent of the Sea.
Darkness.