A dragon from another world's legends comes to terrorize Westeros. How will the House of the Dragon deal with the arrival of the Wyvern of Destruction?
Fade To Black (House of the Dragon x Monster Hunter SI)
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Chapter 1 Part 1
Being born again and remembering the entire ordeal was an experience I never wanted to repeat if I ever had another chance to do so.
The memory of my waking moment, the feeling of being trapped inside a small and cramped prison wasn't a pleasant experience to wake up to at all, and trying to use what little muscle my body had to break free was almost a herculean effort all on its own.
I tried pushing at the walls of my prison at first, but that yielded little results. Even when I used my arms, my legs, and even my back to try and make the walls give way only left me tired. My next attempt was to try and punch or kick at the walls around me, but that did little to no effect either.
I tried to catch my breath for a moment, still my mind from the panic building up, before slamming my head as hard as possible at the wall in front of me out of sheer frustration.
I expected a headache for my troubles but was pleasantly surprised to see the wall give and crack a bit from my assault. With the thought of freedom and not wanting to wait if a headache was going to hit me back, I slammed my face against the same spot on the wall.
The tiny crack got bigger with each hit and I hit it with all the strength I could muster every time. It took nine headbutts for me to break through the wall and into freedom.
As soon as I spilled out of my prison and into open space I only now realized I was inside an egg of all things. A glance behind showed me I was trapped within an egg with shiny black scales covering the shell.
My whole body felt like an open wound when the fresh air hit me and I winced at how my nerves were set on fire when I tried to push myself up. I was covered in a thick, viscous fluid which I assumed was the albumen from the egg.
By now I was starting to realize that I probably wasn't human anymore, what with me waking up inside and breaking out of an egg. Once my body stopped hurting so much from being outside I looked down to see if I knew what I was this time around.
The arms that I could see were covered in shiny black scales, not unlike the ones that covered the egg, with 4 fingers and a thumb that ended in sharp-looking claws. My body was covered in scales, with my belly sporting pale white scales while everything else was covered in shiny black scales.
I ran my hands over my arms before touching my body to feel the scales on my skin. They felt like metal, smooth and solid like I was wearing a suit of armor. I poked myself hard and only felt a dull pressure from my claw instead of pain. I continued my self-inspection and found out my neck was significantly longer than what I was used to. I had to bend down so that my hands could reach my face.
I didn't have a human face anymore, that's for sure.
A long, reptile-like snout, fin-like ears on each side, and two sets of horns that swept backward from my face.
Before I finished my thoughts on what I was exactly I turned my head and looked behind me at my back. With my long neck, it was simple to do so and it rewarded me with a view of two wings attached to where my shoulder blades were. A row of white spikes traveled down my neck and all the way to the end of my long black tail.
Seeing my wings and my tail felt like I had flipped a switch in my head because now I could feel them on me. Moving them around was instinctual and a lot less awkward than I thought they'd be.
Now that I was sure I was definitely reborn as a dragon.
Fucking Awesome.
Wherever or whenever I was didn't matter at all at that point to me because Dragon.
Moving my wings and tail around was a novel experience. I wanted to compare it to having another set of arms, but at the same time, it wasn't. It was a bit hard to explain, more so because my dragon brain instinctually told me how they should be used instead of me figuring things out. My wings were built and positioned in a way to also act as another pair of arms or paws or whatever they're supposed to be called. At first, I tried moving around with just my feet and arms to test out the difference and while I moved quite fast with four limbs when I used six I was practically zooming across the floor. The large claw on both my wings helped me dig into the ground with terrifying ease.
My dragon brain also told me how to move my tail to help balance myself or how to move and use it as a weapon. I don't think anyone would want to be on the business end of it seeing as I was some sort of black metal dragon.
After another few moments of testing my limbs out and inspecting my body as much as I possibly could I now looked at my surroundings to see if I could figure out where I was or at the least find something reflective to see if I could see what I looked like.
At first, it looked like I was in a cave. The walls and ceilings were made of stone, and stalagmites and stalactites grew here and there. Exploring the dark cave wasn't scary at all and that was funny in itself because I used to be terrified of the dark. With me being sure I was a dragon the fear of anything was practically gone from my mind.
I also realized my eyesight was leagues better than my old human eyesight. I could tell I was someplace dark and at the same time, I didn't have any trouble at all seeing in the dark. The details of my surroundings were as clear as day to me.
Now, I said it looked like I was in a cave at first because the deeper I went in I soon found man-made structures built into the cave. I saw stone pillars built from floor to ceiling lining the walls and the uneven ground giving way to a solid flat surface that was too level and even to be natural.
For some reason, this architecture screamed the word temple at me with how everything was arranged.
I could see unlit torches on sconces on each of the pillars and-
I heard and smelled them before I saw them. There were two people, judging by the voices echoing down further from the man-made end of the cave. They smelled heavily like sweat and burnt meat. I could hear them talking and could almost make out what they were saying. I was surprised and relieved that I understood what they were saying even though it didn't sound like they were speaking any English.
"-deeper into the Dragonmont? That's not like them." A man's voice said. He sounded unsure, close to freaking out from what little I could hear how his voice shook. My new dragon ears were better than my old pair as well. Not only could I hear them and tell that they were a lot farther away from me I could also pick out things in how they spoke that my new dragon brain told me that I shouldn't have been able to discern.
"Something has them scared. We have to be careful." The second man's voice said. His voice sounded deeper, older than his companion, and more sure of himself. He didn't sound scared like the younger man, but he was more cautious.
The younger man said Dragonmont which sounded familiar to me, although I couldn't quite remember where I heard it from.
It would only take a few more minutes for them to reach my location. I thought about hiding at first, with six limbs it took little effort to climb up one of the pillars, but I thought better of it. As much as I loved not knowing where I was, confronting whoever was coming toward me would yield some answers.
So I decided to sit and wait right down in the middle of the cave. I sat down before I wrapped my tail and wings around myself. I was still a baby dragon, sure, but I was guessing I still cut an imposing figure in the dark.
"Can you feel that?" The older man said, "There's something in the air. Something heavy."
"I feel it too."
A few minutes of waiting later I finally saw the light from their torches down at the end of the tunnel. Soon enough I saw two men walk out into the open space of the cavern I was in. One man was older with wrinkles all over his face and his grey hair cut short. He was stout and on the heavy side, but he moved like a man who knew how to fight. His younger companion was… well, not much to look at. Thinner than his old companion and carried himself with uncertainty. His dark hair was cut as short as the old man's and both wore and wielded identical things.
They both wore long, light tan robes over what looked like an orange undergarment beneath it. A leather belt secured it closed. Dark leather boots completed their outfit. Seeing as the two of them wore the same thing I could speculate that this was a uniform of sorts. Both of them held a torch in one hand and a long wooden pole in the other, almost twice as tall as they were.
"Stop," The old man held out a hand toward his companion. He was the first to see me in the dark and an alarming look appeared on his face. The younger man was quick to follow instructions and was aware enough to notice that his companion was looking at something. It didn't take too long for him to see me.
"A hatchling? But-"
"-Where did it come from?" The older man finished. He didn't break eye contact with me as he slowly put down his torch and his stick. I was finding this situation a bit funny, to be honest. They were understandably scared of seeing me and from what I could glean from their conversation I wasn't supposed to be here. "Look there. Six limbs. Two legs, two arms, and two wings. I've never seen anything like it before."
So the dragons here only had a pair of wings and a pair of legs? That takes a few places off of my list.
The old man approached slowly, but surely. Both of his hands were raised and level with his chest as if he wanted to show me that he was unarmed. He was halfway towards me when I decided to let him know that that was as close as he was to getting anywhere near me.
I tried to say only to realize that I couldn't speak. Instead of words escaping my mouth it was a low, threatening hiss instead.
Both of them tensed and stopped in their tracks at the sound I made. The old man made a placating gesture with his hands and spoke in almost a whisper as he slowly started walking towards me again.
"Calm, great dragon. I am not your enemy."
I wasn't letting my inability to speak stop me from communicating. I bent down towards the floor, the action causing another round of tension between the two people in front of me, and tested out how sharp my claws were. I swiped down on the rock that made up the floor's cave and found that my claws were incredibly sharp. It took little effort for me to make a deep gouge on the floor. With the ability to write something secured, I started writing on the ground.
I smiled to myself and gestured toward the message I wrote on the floor to the two men. Judging by their dumbfounded reaction to my writing I guessed that the dragons on this world weren't smart or sentient enough to do so.
Neither of them got any closer and waiting for them to do so would take more patience than my baby dragon body had so instead I slithered over to the old man and pulled him by his legs toward the message I wrote. From my peripheral,I saw the young one suddenly act and moved as he brought his long stick down and tried to hit me with it.
One of my wings flared up as if it had a mind of its own and deflected the wooden pole with enough force to snap it in two. The young man was sent stumbling back which caused him to trip and fall onto his back.
The old man was about to pull something from his belt, probably a weapon when I grabbed his head and slowly but firmly made him look at the message.
"By the gods! It-It can write!" The old man proclaimed. He quickly waved at his companion. "Call for Prince Daemon! He must see this at once!"
Now we were getting somewhere! Prince Daemon was a name I easily recognized! Now the final piece to this… relatively easy puzzle was solved.
All that was left was to see what I looked like to find out what kind of dragon I was.
The young man didn't wait a moment longer as he ran out of the cave with his torch and broken pole in hand. I let the old man go and settled back down in the middle of the cave. I watched the old man pick himself off the ground and just stare at me in wonder.
…
Yeah, no. This dragon wasn't waiting for anyone. I went down on all six and started running. I followed the path the young man took and used his scent -That was hilarious in itself that I could just do that now thanks to my new dragon brain- to lead me out of these caves.
"Wait! Wait!" The old man pleaded as I outran him with ease and left him in the cave. My surroundings blurred past me as I raced towards where the young man went. His scent soon gave way to the smell of fresh air, rotten eggs, and the ocean. Soon enough I saw the entrance to the cave of what I assumed was the Dragonmont, the volcano located on the island of Dragonstone and where a lot of dragons made their lairs. Across the volcano where I stood was the black castle also named Dragonstone.
If all the information I had on hand was correct then I was in Westeros during the Targaryen Dynasty. The specifics of exactly when was some time before the civil war called the Dance of the Dragons. How did I come to this conclusion? Prince Daemon was still alive and from what those two Dragonkeepers who found me spoke of then there were still plenty of dragons alive at this time.
I looked down the slope of the Dragonmont and saw the young Dragonkeeper hurriedly walking down the long flight of stone stairs that led up to the volcano. The thought of flying out of here and exploring crossed my mind for a split second but getting some information out of the people around here would be a priority for now.
A few seconds of clarity hit me as I watched the clear blue sky over the horizon. I had died and was given another crack at life for some reason or another. And, again, for some reason, I was in Westeros of all places right before a huge civil war would break out across the continent. Was there a reason I was sent here? Was I supposed to change things?
I laughed at myself, the sound coming from my throat akin to a rockslide, and asked if the why, when, and how mattered. I was a motherfucking dragon. I could do whatever the fuck I want.
My moment of peace was disturbed as the older Dragonkeeper finally caught up to me. He was panting from the exertion of his run but it seemed he was more in shape than he looked because he wasn't doubled over from exhaustion.
I looked at him in confusion this time. The Dragonkeeper looked a lot smaller than he did when I left him in the cave. The first time I saw him I was probably tall enough to reach his chest, but now it looks like our positions were reversed. He was less than half as tall as I was now.
I guess I was growing fast. Really fast.
Of all the dragons I could think of there was only one dragon on my mind that had black scales, scared the fuck out of other dragons, and grew at an alarming rate. I just needed to test out one thing to be sure.
I needed to breathe fire.
I needed to see how powerful it was. Was it a normal amount of flames for a dragon or was it a "reduce a kingdom to ashes in a single night" amount of flames?
I looked back at the Dragonkeeper. Another idea formed in my mind. I bent down to the ground and scratched out the name of a place
"You know about the Stepstones?" The old Dragonkeeper looked up at me before pointing out toward the ocean. "Half a day's worth of travel on dragonback."
12 hours of flying south to get to the Stepstones? I bet I could take a few hours off of that, never mind that this would be my first time flying. I would either find Daemon and the Velaryons fighting against the Triarchy or, if my memory was right, I'd find a bunch of pirates. A win-win scenario in either case for me.
With no time like the present, I decided to trust in my dragon brain to help me and braced myself as I ran towards the edge of the Dragonmont and leaped with all my might.
The fact that I was flying because I was a dragon, that I was in another world, a world that I had only read -a tiny bit of- and watched about, and that I was a fucking dragon, it never even crossed my mind to look at my reflection in the ocean waters below me.
The Stepstones
Ser Corlys Velaryon, head of House Velaryon, and the Lord of the Tides watched from his vantage point atop the cliffs over to the battle happening on the island across from him. Warriors of House Velaryon and the armies of the Triarchy clashed down on the beach, numerous battles happening between the husks of burnt ships from both sides.
It was infuriating how well The Crabfeeder and his men held their ground. Every inch of the beachhead was hard-fought, but by the end of the day, the Triarchy would have retaken what little land they fought for. What was worse was they knew they didn't stand a chance against their dragons so they ran and hid inside the numerous caves that littered the islands and waited until their dragons or their riders got tired before emerging and fighting back.
Even with Caraxes and Seasmoke decimating the Triarchy's numbers it seemed that they had more than enough men to throw into this battle with how it seemed like they never ran out of soldiers.
The Sea Snake watched as both dragons flew over the battlefield before raining down fire on their enemies. Dozens of men were reduced to bone and ash in seconds, but still, it wasn't enough to break their enemies.
This was a familiar song and dance at this point. With the dragons reentering the field the Triarchy's armies would now retreat into their caves where they would have the advantage. Corlys didn't have enough men to chase them down into the caves and with no support from the king any time soon, if at all, then he had to play this smart. He couldn't lose more men than he already had.
Corlys turned around and headed back to the war table a few feet away from the cliff's edge where his commanders and his younger brother, Ser Vaemond, plotted out ways to route out their foes from their hideouts.
"I think, at this point, I prefer the pirates, brother," Vaemond said tiredly which earned a few quiet chuckles from their commanders. Ser Corlys and Ser Vaemond were similar in many ways, sporting House Valeryon's signature silver platinum locks and dark skin, but there were key differences that set them apart. While Corlys was of a stouter build and just a bit taller than his brother Ser Vaemond still cut an imposing figure. Where Corlys was strong and immovable, Vaemond was fast and unstoppable. When the brother took to the field they were a force to be reckoned with. Corlys would cut down any foes who stood against him with his great axe while Vaemond wielded his sword and shield to systematically decimate his adversaries. "At least they had the decency to run and leave when they were defeated. This damned Crabfeeder is as stubborn as a tick."
"More like the pox than anything," Corlys muttered as he surveyed the war table and took note of their current numbers. Even a handful of deaths and injuries were too many for his liking. Sooner or later the odds would be well against them. He gave a meaningful look to one of his commanders.
"No word yet from King's Landing my lord."
"It seems, good sers, that we have to win this battle oursel-"
Shouts of confusion and surprise stopped any conversation happening around the war table as everyone turned to look at the battlefield. Or more specifically, above it.
Caraxes and Seasmoke flew erratically in the sky turning and writhing in midair. Corlys feared for his son's life thinking that he might soon lose his grip on his dragon and would be thrown off of its back with how panicked the great beasts were.
"What happened?" Vaemond strode closer to the cliff's edge and scanned the battlefield, "Is it a weapon?"
"No," Corlys watched as both dragons turned and flew away from the battlefield faster than he ever saw them fly. He could faintly hear Daemon and Laenor shouting commands that their mounts refused to answer. "Something scared them away."
"Are you mad? What can scare a dragon?"
It arrived like a falling star from the very heavens themselves.
A massive form dropped from the skies and into the middle of the battlefield. The force of its impact scattered warriors from both House Velaryon and the Triarchy with sand and seawater being flung up into the air. Corlys saw the silhouette of a massive dragon through the haze of smoke and fog.
"Ha! Reinforcements from the king, at last." Vaemond's exclamation made the men around them cheer as they thought that the war for the Stepstones was coming to an end. "About damned time."
"That's not any of ours. Signal the men to fall back!" It was the last thing the Sea Snake was able to say before black wings spread wide, stretching from one end of the battlefield to the other, and beat once before the dragon was flying up into the sky again. It was fast for a thing of its size, circling the sky above them once in seconds before it flew low and made a pass close to the cliff where Corlys and Vaemond stood.
Black scales that shined like metal and a suffocating heat were the first things Corlys noted about this mystery dragon. He could see it observing the battle as if it was looking for something before it flew up high into the sky and roared.
The dragon's roar was loud and powerful. Everyone felt it shake their very souls. An otherworldly sound that demanded attention and engendered fear.
Corlys saw the black dragon draw breath and saw the flames shining through its chest. For a split second, he thought he even locked eyes with it, blood-red eyes that shone with a baleful amber light.
The fire in its chest quickly traveled up its serpentine neck before it opened its black-fanged maw.
And the battlefield drowned in a sea of flames.
I'm just having fun with this.
I started writing this just because of the recent House of the Dragon tv series and my love for Monster Hunter sounded like a fun crossover idea.
Just to temper people's expectations. I am writing this for the fun of it because dragon SI sounds crazy fun and stupid. I don't think this fic will get super serious, but we will see. I am also far more familiar with the tv shows than the books and the information I have and I reference is from the shows. I know a lot more about Monster Hunter stuff than I do A Song of Ice and Fire.
For those not familiar with Fatalis, the Black Dragon:
It's one of Monster Hunter's most well-known Elder Dragons and one of the community's top favorites. An Elder Dragon whose legend says that it wiped out an entire kingdom in one night and had the power to burn the whole world with its flames.
Fatalis is considered unnatural, even by Elder Dragon standards. Legends say that all living things fear it including other Elder Dragons. Living things try to avoid it at all costs leading to some leaving areas altogether simply to avoid it.
There are more things about this dragon that I'll get into the story.
The memory of my waking moment, the feeling of being trapped inside a small and cramped prison wasn't a pleasant experience to wake up to at all, and trying to use what little muscle my body had to break free was almost a herculean effort all on its own.
I tried pushing at the walls of my prison at first, but that yielded little results. Even when I used my arms, my legs, and even my back to try and make the walls give way only left me tired. My next attempt was to try and punch or kick at the walls around me, but that did little to no effect either.
I tried to catch my breath for a moment, still my mind from the panic building up, before slamming my head as hard as possible at the wall in front of me out of sheer frustration.
I expected a headache for my troubles but was pleasantly surprised to see the wall give and crack a bit from my assault. With the thought of freedom and not wanting to wait if a headache was going to hit me back, I slammed my face against the same spot on the wall.
The tiny crack got bigger with each hit and I hit it with all the strength I could muster every time. It took nine headbutts for me to break through the wall and into freedom.
As soon as I spilled out of my prison and into open space I only now realized I was inside an egg of all things. A glance behind showed me I was trapped within an egg with shiny black scales covering the shell.
My whole body felt like an open wound when the fresh air hit me and I winced at how my nerves were set on fire when I tried to push myself up. I was covered in a thick, viscous fluid which I assumed was the albumen from the egg.
By now I was starting to realize that I probably wasn't human anymore, what with me waking up inside and breaking out of an egg. Once my body stopped hurting so much from being outside I looked down to see if I knew what I was this time around.
The arms that I could see were covered in shiny black scales, not unlike the ones that covered the egg, with 4 fingers and a thumb that ended in sharp-looking claws. My body was covered in scales, with my belly sporting pale white scales while everything else was covered in shiny black scales.
I ran my hands over my arms before touching my body to feel the scales on my skin. They felt like metal, smooth and solid like I was wearing a suit of armor. I poked myself hard and only felt a dull pressure from my claw instead of pain. I continued my self-inspection and found out my neck was significantly longer than what I was used to. I had to bend down so that my hands could reach my face.
I didn't have a human face anymore, that's for sure.
A long, reptile-like snout, fin-like ears on each side, and two sets of horns that swept backward from my face.
Before I finished my thoughts on what I was exactly I turned my head and looked behind me at my back. With my long neck, it was simple to do so and it rewarded me with a view of two wings attached to where my shoulder blades were. A row of white spikes traveled down my neck and all the way to the end of my long black tail.
Seeing my wings and my tail felt like I had flipped a switch in my head because now I could feel them on me. Moving them around was instinctual and a lot less awkward than I thought they'd be.
Now that I was sure I was definitely reborn as a dragon.
Fucking Awesome.
Wherever or whenever I was didn't matter at all at that point to me because Dragon.
Moving my wings and tail around was a novel experience. I wanted to compare it to having another set of arms, but at the same time, it wasn't. It was a bit hard to explain, more so because my dragon brain instinctually told me how they should be used instead of me figuring things out. My wings were built and positioned in a way to also act as another pair of arms or paws or whatever they're supposed to be called. At first, I tried moving around with just my feet and arms to test out the difference and while I moved quite fast with four limbs when I used six I was practically zooming across the floor. The large claw on both my wings helped me dig into the ground with terrifying ease.
My dragon brain also told me how to move my tail to help balance myself or how to move and use it as a weapon. I don't think anyone would want to be on the business end of it seeing as I was some sort of black metal dragon.
After another few moments of testing my limbs out and inspecting my body as much as I possibly could I now looked at my surroundings to see if I could figure out where I was or at the least find something reflective to see if I could see what I looked like.
At first, it looked like I was in a cave. The walls and ceilings were made of stone, and stalagmites and stalactites grew here and there. Exploring the dark cave wasn't scary at all and that was funny in itself because I used to be terrified of the dark. With me being sure I was a dragon the fear of anything was practically gone from my mind.
I also realized my eyesight was leagues better than my old human eyesight. I could tell I was someplace dark and at the same time, I didn't have any trouble at all seeing in the dark. The details of my surroundings were as clear as day to me.
Now, I said it looked like I was in a cave at first because the deeper I went in I soon found man-made structures built into the cave. I saw stone pillars built from floor to ceiling lining the walls and the uneven ground giving way to a solid flat surface that was too level and even to be natural.
For some reason, this architecture screamed the word temple at me with how everything was arranged.
I could see unlit torches on sconces on each of the pillars and-
I heard and smelled them before I saw them. There were two people, judging by the voices echoing down further from the man-made end of the cave. They smelled heavily like sweat and burnt meat. I could hear them talking and could almost make out what they were saying. I was surprised and relieved that I understood what they were saying even though it didn't sound like they were speaking any English.
"-deeper into the Dragonmont? That's not like them." A man's voice said. He sounded unsure, close to freaking out from what little I could hear how his voice shook. My new dragon ears were better than my old pair as well. Not only could I hear them and tell that they were a lot farther away from me I could also pick out things in how they spoke that my new dragon brain told me that I shouldn't have been able to discern.
"Something has them scared. We have to be careful." The second man's voice said. His voice sounded deeper, older than his companion, and more sure of himself. He didn't sound scared like the younger man, but he was more cautious.
The younger man said Dragonmont which sounded familiar to me, although I couldn't quite remember where I heard it from.
It would only take a few more minutes for them to reach my location. I thought about hiding at first, with six limbs it took little effort to climb up one of the pillars, but I thought better of it. As much as I loved not knowing where I was, confronting whoever was coming toward me would yield some answers.
So I decided to sit and wait right down in the middle of the cave. I sat down before I wrapped my tail and wings around myself. I was still a baby dragon, sure, but I was guessing I still cut an imposing figure in the dark.
"Can you feel that?" The older man said, "There's something in the air. Something heavy."
"I feel it too."
A few minutes of waiting later I finally saw the light from their torches down at the end of the tunnel. Soon enough I saw two men walk out into the open space of the cavern I was in. One man was older with wrinkles all over his face and his grey hair cut short. He was stout and on the heavy side, but he moved like a man who knew how to fight. His younger companion was… well, not much to look at. Thinner than his old companion and carried himself with uncertainty. His dark hair was cut as short as the old man's and both wore and wielded identical things.
They both wore long, light tan robes over what looked like an orange undergarment beneath it. A leather belt secured it closed. Dark leather boots completed their outfit. Seeing as the two of them wore the same thing I could speculate that this was a uniform of sorts. Both of them held a torch in one hand and a long wooden pole in the other, almost twice as tall as they were.
"Stop," The old man held out a hand toward his companion. He was the first to see me in the dark and an alarming look appeared on his face. The younger man was quick to follow instructions and was aware enough to notice that his companion was looking at something. It didn't take too long for him to see me.
"A hatchling? But-"
"-Where did it come from?" The older man finished. He didn't break eye contact with me as he slowly put down his torch and his stick. I was finding this situation a bit funny, to be honest. They were understandably scared of seeing me and from what I could glean from their conversation I wasn't supposed to be here. "Look there. Six limbs. Two legs, two arms, and two wings. I've never seen anything like it before."
So the dragons here only had a pair of wings and a pair of legs? That takes a few places off of my list.
The old man approached slowly, but surely. Both of his hands were raised and level with his chest as if he wanted to show me that he was unarmed. He was halfway towards me when I decided to let him know that that was as close as he was to getting anywhere near me.
"Stop"
I tried to say only to realize that I couldn't speak. Instead of words escaping my mouth it was a low, threatening hiss instead.
Both of them tensed and stopped in their tracks at the sound I made. The old man made a placating gesture with his hands and spoke in almost a whisper as he slowly started walking towards me again.
"Calm, great dragon. I am not your enemy."
I wasn't letting my inability to speak stop me from communicating. I bent down towards the floor, the action causing another round of tension between the two people in front of me, and tested out how sharp my claws were. I swiped down on the rock that made up the floor's cave and found that my claws were incredibly sharp. It took little effort for me to make a deep gouge on the floor. With the ability to write something secured, I started writing on the ground.
Where am I?
I smiled to myself and gestured toward the message I wrote on the floor to the two men. Judging by their dumbfounded reaction to my writing I guessed that the dragons on this world weren't smart or sentient enough to do so.
Neither of them got any closer and waiting for them to do so would take more patience than my baby dragon body had so instead I slithered over to the old man and pulled him by his legs toward the message I wrote. From my peripheral,I saw the young one suddenly act and moved as he brought his long stick down and tried to hit me with it.
One of my wings flared up as if it had a mind of its own and deflected the wooden pole with enough force to snap it in two. The young man was sent stumbling back which caused him to trip and fall onto his back.
The old man was about to pull something from his belt, probably a weapon when I grabbed his head and slowly but firmly made him look at the message.
"By the gods! It-It can write!" The old man proclaimed. He quickly waved at his companion. "Call for Prince Daemon! He must see this at once!"
Now we were getting somewhere! Prince Daemon was a name I easily recognized! Now the final piece to this… relatively easy puzzle was solved.
All that was left was to see what I looked like to find out what kind of dragon I was.
The young man didn't wait a moment longer as he ran out of the cave with his torch and broken pole in hand. I let the old man go and settled back down in the middle of the cave. I watched the old man pick himself off the ground and just stare at me in wonder.
…
Yeah, no. This dragon wasn't waiting for anyone. I went down on all six and started running. I followed the path the young man took and used his scent -That was hilarious in itself that I could just do that now thanks to my new dragon brain- to lead me out of these caves.
"Wait! Wait!" The old man pleaded as I outran him with ease and left him in the cave. My surroundings blurred past me as I raced towards where the young man went. His scent soon gave way to the smell of fresh air, rotten eggs, and the ocean. Soon enough I saw the entrance to the cave of what I assumed was the Dragonmont, the volcano located on the island of Dragonstone and where a lot of dragons made their lairs. Across the volcano where I stood was the black castle also named Dragonstone.
If all the information I had on hand was correct then I was in Westeros during the Targaryen Dynasty. The specifics of exactly when was some time before the civil war called the Dance of the Dragons. How did I come to this conclusion? Prince Daemon was still alive and from what those two Dragonkeepers who found me spoke of then there were still plenty of dragons alive at this time.
I looked down the slope of the Dragonmont and saw the young Dragonkeeper hurriedly walking down the long flight of stone stairs that led up to the volcano. The thought of flying out of here and exploring crossed my mind for a split second but getting some information out of the people around here would be a priority for now.
A few seconds of clarity hit me as I watched the clear blue sky over the horizon. I had died and was given another crack at life for some reason or another. And, again, for some reason, I was in Westeros of all places right before a huge civil war would break out across the continent. Was there a reason I was sent here? Was I supposed to change things?
I laughed at myself, the sound coming from my throat akin to a rockslide, and asked if the why, when, and how mattered. I was a motherfucking dragon. I could do whatever the fuck I want.
My moment of peace was disturbed as the older Dragonkeeper finally caught up to me. He was panting from the exertion of his run but it seemed he was more in shape than he looked because he wasn't doubled over from exhaustion.
I looked at him in confusion this time. The Dragonkeeper looked a lot smaller than he did when I left him in the cave. The first time I saw him I was probably tall enough to reach his chest, but now it looks like our positions were reversed. He was less than half as tall as I was now.
I guess I was growing fast. Really fast.
Of all the dragons I could think of there was only one dragon on my mind that had black scales, scared the fuck out of other dragons, and grew at an alarming rate. I just needed to test out one thing to be sure.
I needed to breathe fire.
I needed to see how powerful it was. Was it a normal amount of flames for a dragon or was it a "reduce a kingdom to ashes in a single night" amount of flames?
I looked back at the Dragonkeeper. Another idea formed in my mind. I bent down to the ground and scratched out the name of a place
Where are the Stepstones?
"You know about the Stepstones?" The old Dragonkeeper looked up at me before pointing out toward the ocean. "Half a day's worth of travel on dragonback."
12 hours of flying south to get to the Stepstones? I bet I could take a few hours off of that, never mind that this would be my first time flying. I would either find Daemon and the Velaryons fighting against the Triarchy or, if my memory was right, I'd find a bunch of pirates. A win-win scenario in either case for me.
With no time like the present, I decided to trust in my dragon brain to help me and braced myself as I ran towards the edge of the Dragonmont and leaped with all my might.
The fact that I was flying because I was a dragon, that I was in another world, a world that I had only read -a tiny bit of- and watched about, and that I was a fucking dragon, it never even crossed my mind to look at my reflection in the ocean waters below me.
The Stepstones
Ser Corlys Velaryon, head of House Velaryon, and the Lord of the Tides watched from his vantage point atop the cliffs over to the battle happening on the island across from him. Warriors of House Velaryon and the armies of the Triarchy clashed down on the beach, numerous battles happening between the husks of burnt ships from both sides.
It was infuriating how well The Crabfeeder and his men held their ground. Every inch of the beachhead was hard-fought, but by the end of the day, the Triarchy would have retaken what little land they fought for. What was worse was they knew they didn't stand a chance against their dragons so they ran and hid inside the numerous caves that littered the islands and waited until their dragons or their riders got tired before emerging and fighting back.
Even with Caraxes and Seasmoke decimating the Triarchy's numbers it seemed that they had more than enough men to throw into this battle with how it seemed like they never ran out of soldiers.
The Sea Snake watched as both dragons flew over the battlefield before raining down fire on their enemies. Dozens of men were reduced to bone and ash in seconds, but still, it wasn't enough to break their enemies.
This was a familiar song and dance at this point. With the dragons reentering the field the Triarchy's armies would now retreat into their caves where they would have the advantage. Corlys didn't have enough men to chase them down into the caves and with no support from the king any time soon, if at all, then he had to play this smart. He couldn't lose more men than he already had.
Corlys turned around and headed back to the war table a few feet away from the cliff's edge where his commanders and his younger brother, Ser Vaemond, plotted out ways to route out their foes from their hideouts.
"I think, at this point, I prefer the pirates, brother," Vaemond said tiredly which earned a few quiet chuckles from their commanders. Ser Corlys and Ser Vaemond were similar in many ways, sporting House Valeryon's signature silver platinum locks and dark skin, but there were key differences that set them apart. While Corlys was of a stouter build and just a bit taller than his brother Ser Vaemond still cut an imposing figure. Where Corlys was strong and immovable, Vaemond was fast and unstoppable. When the brother took to the field they were a force to be reckoned with. Corlys would cut down any foes who stood against him with his great axe while Vaemond wielded his sword and shield to systematically decimate his adversaries. "At least they had the decency to run and leave when they were defeated. This damned Crabfeeder is as stubborn as a tick."
"More like the pox than anything," Corlys muttered as he surveyed the war table and took note of their current numbers. Even a handful of deaths and injuries were too many for his liking. Sooner or later the odds would be well against them. He gave a meaningful look to one of his commanders.
"No word yet from King's Landing my lord."
"It seems, good sers, that we have to win this battle oursel-"
Shouts of confusion and surprise stopped any conversation happening around the war table as everyone turned to look at the battlefield. Or more specifically, above it.
Caraxes and Seasmoke flew erratically in the sky turning and writhing in midair. Corlys feared for his son's life thinking that he might soon lose his grip on his dragon and would be thrown off of its back with how panicked the great beasts were.
"What happened?" Vaemond strode closer to the cliff's edge and scanned the battlefield, "Is it a weapon?"
"No," Corlys watched as both dragons turned and flew away from the battlefield faster than he ever saw them fly. He could faintly hear Daemon and Laenor shouting commands that their mounts refused to answer. "Something scared them away."
"Are you mad? What can scare a dragon?"
It arrived like a falling star from the very heavens themselves.
A massive form dropped from the skies and into the middle of the battlefield. The force of its impact scattered warriors from both House Velaryon and the Triarchy with sand and seawater being flung up into the air. Corlys saw the silhouette of a massive dragon through the haze of smoke and fog.
"Ha! Reinforcements from the king, at last." Vaemond's exclamation made the men around them cheer as they thought that the war for the Stepstones was coming to an end. "About damned time."
"That's not any of ours. Signal the men to fall back!" It was the last thing the Sea Snake was able to say before black wings spread wide, stretching from one end of the battlefield to the other, and beat once before the dragon was flying up into the sky again. It was fast for a thing of its size, circling the sky above them once in seconds before it flew low and made a pass close to the cliff where Corlys and Vaemond stood.
Black scales that shined like metal and a suffocating heat were the first things Corlys noted about this mystery dragon. He could see it observing the battle as if it was looking for something before it flew up high into the sky and roared.
The dragon's roar was loud and powerful. Everyone felt it shake their very souls. An otherworldly sound that demanded attention and engendered fear.
Corlys saw the black dragon draw breath and saw the flames shining through its chest. For a split second, he thought he even locked eyes with it, blood-red eyes that shone with a baleful amber light.
The fire in its chest quickly traveled up its serpentine neck before it opened its black-fanged maw.
And the battlefield drowned in a sea of flames.
End Part 1
I'm just having fun with this.
I started writing this just because of the recent House of the Dragon tv series and my love for Monster Hunter sounded like a fun crossover idea.
Just to temper people's expectations. I am writing this for the fun of it because dragon SI sounds crazy fun and stupid. I don't think this fic will get super serious, but we will see. I am also far more familiar with the tv shows than the books and the information I have and I reference is from the shows. I know a lot more about Monster Hunter stuff than I do A Song of Ice and Fire.
For those not familiar with Fatalis, the Black Dragon:
It's one of Monster Hunter's most well-known Elder Dragons and one of the community's top favorites. An Elder Dragon whose legend says that it wiped out an entire kingdom in one night and had the power to burn the whole world with its flames.
Fatalis is considered unnatural, even by Elder Dragon standards. Legends say that all living things fear it including other Elder Dragons. Living things try to avoid it at all costs leading to some leaving areas altogether simply to avoid it.
There are more things about this dragon that I'll get into the story.
Why be a Hunter when you can be an Elder Dragon? The pure chaos you can cause for everyone would be amazing!
Rogue Gemini
Wanderer without a Twin
- Location
- Here
Fatalis! I've only saw gameplay going against him, but being in Westeros will be fascinating. Also, I'm glad to see you in my notifications again.
The dragon so metal if you try to wear it as armor it just consumes you and regenerates it self…
The black dragons are real freaks of nature even by elder dragon standards. I mean dire miralis can only be reduced to its heart which will still beat by the way and then just proceed to regenerate…
They are biologically immortal and if you can't reduce fatalis and it's Kin into atoms and erase them they will just come back.
The black dragons are real freaks of nature even by elder dragon standards. I mean dire miralis can only be reduced to its heart which will still beat by the way and then just proceed to regenerate…
They are biologically immortal and if you can't reduce fatalis and it's Kin into atoms and erase them they will just come back.
Chapter 1 Part 2
Part 2
I couldn't properly describe the feelings coursing through my dragon body as I hovered over the decimated battlefield below me. The feeling of having such raw, unstoppable power and invincibility at my fingertips.
Whoever did this, whatever did this was fucking insane.
And I loved them for it.
If a god or otherworldly entity did this then call me a convert because I'm a believer!
I died and I was reborn into the world I knew as Game of Thrones, House of the Dragon, and A Song of Ice and Fire. But I wasn't just reborn as another human fighting to stay alive in this medieval fantasy. No, I was blessed with being reborn as a dragon. But, not just any dragon. I was reborn as Fatalis. An Elder Dragon from the Monster Hunter franchise that was so powerful and so legendary that even other Elder Dragons were afraid of it. From the mountainous Lao-Shan Lung to the Blazing Black Dragon, Alatreon, they all ran from Fatalis.
Judging from the retreating forms of the two dragons when I arrived in the Stepstones even the creatures here knew there was a wrongness to Fatalis, to me, that their instincts told them to run.
I crashed down into the smoldering battlefield and watched as my flames devoured everything in its path. All that was left of the men fighting on the beach were spots of molten metal that were once their armor and weapons. Even the cliffside where the Triarchy hid in was reduced to molten rock.
A part of me questioned if I should have been bothered by the hundreds (thousands?) of people I just burned alive, but my dragon brain answered that question for me and said, "Why does it matter?"
Corlys had never seen anything like it in his life. He had seen many things in his travels, from the freezing isolation Beyond the Wall to the Jade Gates at Qarth. The Head of House Velaryon had seen many fantastical things that no living individual could compare to.
Never had Corlys seen such destruction from one creature. Even a dragon.
The battlefield might as well have been another world.
The black dragon had sustained its dragonflame for nearly five minutes. At that time it had rained hell down on anyone unlucky enough to have been left on the beach. All that was left was a wasteland of glass and molten rock.
Nothing could have survived that.
The call to fall back was made and his men only took what was necessary and left the rest behind.
A wild dragon as powerful as the black dragon on the loose was bad news for everybody and Corlys didn't want to stay long enough for it to turn its attention on them.
"It's flying away!" Corlys turned around just in time to see the black dragon fly overhead faster than any dragon had any right to be. He watched it fly northwest into the horizon. Corlys realized where it was headed and his face contorted in horror.
Kingswood
"Well, isn't this splendid?" King Viserys couldn't help the smile on his face as he rode in the royal carriage along with his wife, Queen Alicent Targaryen formerly Hightower, and his two children, Princess Rhaenyra his firstborn daughter and heir, and Prince Aegon his firstborn son. "The whole of our family off to celebration and adventure in the Kingswood."
Rhaenyra smiled at her father's excitement and couldn't help but think about recent events. Although the past three years had been a trying ordeal the king was happier when he had wed her best friend.
Looking at very pregnant Alicent, at the queen, she couldn't help the worry that formed in her stomach when the carriage rocked a little too violently when they hit a bump on the Kingsroad.
"Should you be traveling in such condition?"
Alicent imperceptibly winced before smiling back at Rhaenyra. "The master said that being out in nature would do me well."
"Well, you will be with your own child sooner than late," King Viserys said with a smile as he let Aegon sip his wine cup, "and make me a proud grandsire."
Rhaenyra's displeasure must have shown her face because Alicent tried to lighten the mood, "It's not so bad! The days are long, but Aegon came quickly and without fuss."
She glanced away from the king and queen and her continued silence made the situation more awkward than it already was for the past few years.
"You should ride out with me today." Rhaenyra glanced back at her father and watched him smile at her. "Join in the chase."
A part of her wanted to say yes. It had been far too long since they had done anything together as father and daughter. But, a tiny giggle from Aegon reminded her why she had kept her distance ever since the day King Viserys announced that he would marry her friend.
"I'd rather not." Rhaenyra rolling her eyes at the suggestion could have been excused as the royal carriage went over a rough patch of land and forced the passengers within to grab on and steady themselves. "The boars squeal like children when they're being slaughtered. I find it discomforting."
"It's a hunt, Rhaenyra," Rhaenyra could see how her father's smile became strained and how he gripped his wine cup a little tighter. She supposed her sour mood wasn't as subtle as she thought it was. "How would you like to participate?"
"I'm not sure why I'm asked."
"Because you are my daughter, The Princess. And you have duties."
"As I am ceaselessly reminded," Rhaenyra said softly, but not soft enough for the King to not notice.
"I'm sorry?"
"As I'm ceaselessly reminded!"
"You wouldn't need to be reminded if you ever attended to them."
"No one's here for me," Rhaenyra said with a finality in her tone that made sure that this particular conversation ended. She smiled an insincere smile at her father before turning back and looking out the carriage.
No one else spoke for the remainder of the journey toward the hunting grounds.
When the royal carriage arrived they were greeted with cheer and applause from all the nobles present. Rhaenyra could hear hundreds of happy voices calling out to her brother.
"Hail hail Aegon, the Conqueror-Babe, Second of His Name! Here's to His Grace on his second name day!"
What the Princess wouldn't give to be able to just get away from today and fly away from here.
It had been almost half a day since I hatched and was reborn into this world. By the time I had arrived at the Stepstones, I was already fully grown. From hatching to full maturity in only a few short hours.
From what I knew of a Fatalis' life cycle they grew up fast and they didn't die of natural causes. The only time they did die was when a hunting party was lucky enough to take it down and even then a Fatalis didn't die in any permanent sense. The Black Dragon possessed the ability to regenerate and some legends even say that it could come back from a single scale. Hell, legends of another Elder Dragon, Dire Miralis, say that it can regenerate from just its carved-out heart alone.
Legends also say that the Smelting Black Dragon was just another incarnation of a Fatalis.
Darker myths even mention that if a hunter made armor from the material harvested from a Fatalis they would be granted immeasurable strength and invulnerability, but would slowly be corrupted and turned into the next one.
Aside from those outliers, a Fatalis would grow more powerful with age and would either become ancient and turn into a White Fatalis who could call forth red lightning storms or, depending on where they made their lair, they can mutate into something like a Crimson Fatalis who could summon meteors to rain down against its foes.
Nothing in Westeros could measure up to the weapons and equipment the hunters used and even the best-equipped hunting parties couldn't take down a Fatalis. Only the best of the best could ever hope to kill one and only if they were lucky enough.
Was it cocky and reckless to think I was unkillable in a land where there were magic wielders and ice zombies? Maybe.
They'd have to go through a sea of flames and get really close to me first and I for one wasn't waiting thousands of years or lair inside a volcano and wait to mutate. I was going to find a way to access this body's full capabilities. It might not be today, but as I see it I had all the time in the world.
Thoughts about Westeros and its current ruling family crossed my mind as I flew above the clouds. With the ocean thousands of feet below and the Stepstones already miles behind me.
With the destruction of the Triarchy's presence in the islands that connected The Broken Arm and The Disputed Lands, I had no doubt changed the course of history. What little I've read about it anyways.
The question now was if I should change more things or just fuck off and be a dragon elsewhere?
Putting a little more thought into the situation and lining up events from what I remembered from the show and what was happening now, I could take an educated guess and say that I was around the time of the Hunting Party for Aegon's second birthday, or nameday as they call it here, Rhaenyra's brother and soon to be rival for the Iron Throne.
This was a time when the realm didn't want the Princess to be the future ruler of the Seven Kingdoms even though the current king, King Viserys, chose her as his heir. There would soon be plans and plots to try and take the throne away from her before her father even dies.
Arguments could have been made for and against supporting the Princess, such as choosing a better ruler rather than a line of succession to lead Westeros into another era of peace and prosperity.
But on the other hand, Rhaenyra really did get the short end of the stick, relatively speaking, and I honestly liked her a lot more than anyone else who was trying to sit on the Iron Throne. I was sure I could come up with something.
With the goal of getting more powerful and helping out the Targaryen Dynasty on my mind, I course-corrected mid-air. The direction I flew in now felt like the right way towards King's Landing and the Kingswood.
I'm pretty sure I would be able to spot them from tens of thousands of feet in the air, anyways.
King Viserys was having a terrible go at things the past few days. His daughter was further pulling away from him emotionally each and every day, his brother was trying his hand at being a warlord, and his body ached from whatever disease was making a feast of his body.
The only light that made his day better was Alicent, his young Queen and mother to his son, Aegon whom he loved with all his heart. The reason they were out in the Kingswood in the first place was for Aegon's second nameday. It was supposed to be a few days of feasting and hunting, far away from his kingly duties. Something to lessen the weight of ruling a kingdom on his shoulders. But, even the hunt was proving to be a disaster.
Viserys sat and quietly observed his friend and Hand, Ser Otto Hightower, speak to the royal hunters tasked to track down an appropriate target for the hunt. But, like everything else, something had gone wrong.
"Animal tracks running out of the Kingswood," One hunter said, "Never seen anything like it before," said another. "The hounds have gone mad!"
No one needed to be master of the hunt to figure out something was wrong and even the dullest noble in his court was catching on that not everything was what it seemed to be.
With a deep sigh, King Viserys settled into his seat and took a long pull from his wine cup.
King Viserys looked down at his cup and found it empty. The King signaled the cupbearer beside him to refill his cup so that he could make the day a little more bearable. He was about to drink deep when Otto appeared beside him with a look of urgency on his face.
"Your Grace," The Hand of the King bent closer to him speaking in almost a whisper, "The guards along the camp's perimeter have spotted a dragon approaching the Kingswood."
"What?" He already had a name on the tip of his tongue, "Daemon?"
"No, my King. It's none of the Royal Dragons."
"That's not possible."
A roar tore through the camp, too close for comfort. The mighty call of the unknown dragon quickly silenced the camp. While everyone froze in fear of the sudden noise, King Viserys stood from his seat and quickly marched out of the royal tent.
The King looked up just in time to see a fully grown black dragon fly overhead. It flew low enough that he could make out black scales that shone like metal and a single red eye sweeping its gaze over the camp. The black dragon flew a few dozen feet above the treetops of the Kingswood which was more than enough for everyone down at the camp to feel the powerful gust of winds that assaulted the camp as it beat its enormous black wings.
The dragon flew deeper into the Kingswood before making its landing. Even from so far away, King Viserys could hear the sound of trees snapping and feel the ground shake.
The thought of an unknown dragon landing in the Kingswood of all places and how dangerous it was made the king pause before turning towards the guards that followed him out of his tent.
"Where is the Princess? Where is Rhaenyra?!"
"Princess!"
Rhaenyra's head throbbed painfully.
"Princess Rhaenyra, we have to leave!"
Every beat of her heart felt like a hammer blow to her temples.
"Rhaenyra!"
Ever so slowly her vision stopped spinning and the Targaryen Princess found herself prone on the ground. She turned her head away from the Kingswood dirt and saw Ser Criston Cole standing above her. His silver Kingsguard armor, usually immaculately maintained, was covered in mud and an alarming amount of blood. She looked at him more closely and saw that underneath his helm he had a horrible cut right on top of his hairline.
After Rhaenyra's very public disagreement with her father, the princess decided that anywhere was better than staying in the hunting camp. So she took her horse and bolted. Ser Criston being the dutiful defender followed her into the woods. They had spoken for a bit with Ser Criston trying to convince the princess to head back to camp, but she had persuaded him to explore the forest with her for a little longer.
"Ser Criston?" Rhaenyra tried to push herself off of the ground, but her arms shook and the world spun when she tried to exert any effort. "What…?"
"A dragon landed close by, your grace, landed in the Kingswood hard enough to uproot trees and crush rocks." Criston looked up from her to look at something in the distance. "It's close by, too close. We have to leave."
"I-I can't stand."
Something passed over his face, an emotion she couldn't place in her addled state before a look of determination hardened his gaze. "Then stay down your grace, and try not to make a sound. I'll draw it away from you as far as I can."
"Ser Criston-!" Rhaenyra tried to make a grab for his arm to stop him, but he was already sprinting away from her towards a dark silhouette in the distance her aching eyes could barely make out. "Wait!"
The dragon in the distance roared at Ser Criston. The sound of it was almost a physical thing that pushed her down with its weight and spurred her into action. Rhaenyra started to crawl away on her belly, her dress catching and tearing on rocks and other forest debris. She heard the clash of metal on metal before the Kingsguard practically roared back at his opponent.
The next thing Rhaenyra saw was Ser Criston flying through the air and hitting a tree, his silver armor making him bounce off of the trunk and land a few feet from her. She couldn't tell if he was either alive or dead because she didn't have any chance to think about it when she felt the dragon's thunderous footsteps approach her prone form.
Was it really going to end like this? Rhaenyra thought to herself as she saw the shadow of the dragon loom over her. Princess Rhaenyra Targaryen, the firstborn child to King Viserys Targaryen, heir to the Iron Throne, killed by a dragon because she was running away from her responsibilities.
Just as Rhaenyra felt the jaws of death closing in on her she used all the strength she could muster to stand and turn to face the dragon. She raised her hand and commanded, "Lykirī!"
She saw claws thrice as tall as her stop mere feet away from grabbing her. The sudden movement of standing and spinning caused her vision to spin, but Rhaenyra fought through the pain to look at the dragon in its eyes.
A dragon with shining black scales that covered its entire body looked down at her. Deep red eyes that glowed with a dreadful yellow light drilling into her purple orbs. There was an intelligence in those eyes beyond that of any other dragon she had come across.
It was frightening.
It stood had six limbs, a pair of legs, a pair of enormous wings on its back, and judging by the opposable thumbs a pair of hands. Just from a glance, the dragon in front of her was probably as big as Caraxes. Where did it come from?
Rhaenyra didn't know if her High Valyrian was what stopped it or if the dragon was just amused that she tried to give it commands, but she was determined to stay alive and spoke another command with as much authority as she could, "Dohaerās!"
The dragon laughed at her then, for the sound that came out of its fanged maw could only be laughter. It shook the treetops with its volume and made her head ache more painfully than she thought possible.
It snatched her up from the dirt and raised her up so she was level with its eyes. She could almost make out the amused yet mocking stare it leveled at her.
No more duties to escape from, A relieved part of Rhaenyra's mind whispered to her. No more marriage proposals.
And then, the black dragon spoke.
Not with just one voice.
The black dragon spoke with the voices of civilizations all speaking as one, civilizations more powerful and wonderful than she could even imagine, civilizations that it had reduced to ash. It spoke with the voice of a burning world, older than Westeros and the Valyrian Freehold. It spoke in the voice of countless dead. It spoke with the voice of a being who even legends feared and cowered from.
The black dragon spoke and it knew her name.
It was strange holding what you once were in the palm of your hand and comparing the feeling to grabbing a fistful of cotton candy. It would take barely any effort to kill a human now.
With a little effort, I glassed an island.
Being a dragon was an absolute power trip and it was fun. I could go anywhere and do anything and everything I wanted. Sure, finding out I was now in Westeros, a world I once thought was only fiction, was something I didn't know I wanted until it happened. Old fantasies of seeing all the places this world had to offer, and meeting these larger-than-life individuals who ruled and destroyed kingdoms.
The funniest thing on my mind was that I saw how this story goes, how the Dance of the Dragons ends. I saw the tragic endings and I loved it. But, now I can be the person to ask, "Well, what if?" and make changes. I already saw one end, now it was time to see another.
And it all started with Princess Rhaenyra Targaryen.
Long silver-gold hair sat atop a face many would call beautiful and her features were only enhanced by her purple eyes.
Points to her for actually trying to throw High Valyrian commands at me. It didn't really do anything, but still. It took a lot of balls to stare down a dragon. Honestly, I was kinda expecting something more for the family who had the Blood of Old Valyria coursing through their veins. A bit of magic, perhaps?
Maybe if I…
I brought her up closer to my face, careful not to do it too fast so that I could properly look at her face. The princess looked understandably frightened, but I could see some fight left in her eyes.
Rhaenyra
I said her name, and what sounded like a roar to anyone else might not to a Targaryen.
The princess clutched at her ears and screwed her eyes shut as she screamed in pain. I raised a nonexistent eyebrow as she convulsed in my grip, blood dripping from her eyes and nose.
Rhaenyra either understood me or was in the process of having a heart attack. I was hoping that the Valyrians had more magic in their blood than what was shown in the shows. It was a funny idea if they could understand me, what with them being called dragonlords and everything, and I could mess around with them in that way.
But looking at the princess who was probably dying in my hand I felt kinda bad.
Just a little bit.
I gently set her back down on the dirt. She could barely stand for a few seconds before she fell to her knees screaming her little head off.
Damn. I guess I have to bet on another horse-
-No, wait. I looked down and saw that Rhaenyra had stopped screaming. She was awake, bloody eyes looking up vacantly at me.
It took a few minutes for her to collect and pick herself off the ground. She stood up painfully slowly and never broke eye contact with me as if her looking away will make me disappear.
"You know who I am." I saw her right eye twitch in pain. Her left hand came up as if she wanted to soothe her aching eye but she stopped herself. "What are you?"
Huh, can't believe that worked. Lucky me.
I heard the sound of crunching leaves and looked up from the princess without moving my head. At the treeline were knights armed with spears and holding spools of heavy rope slowly approaching the clearing I had made. Some wore the silver armor of the Kingsguard, the same armor that Criston Cole wore. He was still unconscious and crumpled at the base of a tree to my right.
I saw King Viserys leading the group. He was a proud man who looked every bit like a king as he did on the show. His silver-gold hair was receding and in a bit of disarray but I could take a guess and say that he had hurriedly made his way toward me. He wore a set of regal black robes highlighted in red that didn't do a good job at hiding his belly. He was far from being Robert Baratheon at the start of Game of Thrones, two of Viserys could easily fit into one Robert with room to spare. In his right hand, he wielded a large sword, a bastard sword, sheathed in a black scabbard. Blackfyre, the Valyrian Steel sword wielded by Aegon the Conqueror if I was remembering correctly.
He looked at the scene before him in confusion. No doubt my landing and the princess' screaming a few seconds ago painted a picture in his mind no parent wanted to think about.
Then again, once Viserys sees his daughter's bloodied face he wouldn't be able to do anything but think about those unthinkable thoughts.
Rhaenyra noticed that I wasn't looking at her and turned around.
"Father?"
"Rhaenyra-!" Viserys tried to control his reaction from seeing all the blood on her daughter's face and gestured towards the princess. "Come here, child."
"Trust me father, I don't think any of us can do anything if it wanted to hurt us." Rhaenyra looked back up at me with a level of understanding I didn't expect. "It can burn the world and we could only stand and watch."
Viserys looked to the men around him before he marched into the clearing with sure steps and a straight back. One of the gathered men tried to stop him, a tall, bearded, gaunt-looking man with reddish brown hair going grey. I noted the pin on the right side of his robe and realized that he was Otto Hightower, the Hand of the King.
The King slowly made his way toward his daughter and kept his eyes on me. I heard the creaking of leather as he tightened his grip on Blackfyre. Once he was close enough he took hold of Rhaenyra and looked her over. "By the gods Rhaenyra, what happened to you?"
"It's hard to explain," The princess looked up back at me and I stared down at her. "I think it can show you as it showed me, but it's going to hurt. Maybe we should do this back at the hunting camp?"
"Rhaenyra, I don't think-"
"I wasn't talking to you, father," Rhaenyra turned and made to start walking but stopped in place, "And don't treat it like that. It's not a mindless beast. It's smarter than you think."
I wasn't going to follow little tiny humans back to their camp. That would take longer than necessary. Instead, I grabbed Viserys in one hand and Rhaenyra in the other and used my wings and legs to walk toward the camp. The knights who accompanied the king scrambled out of my way or risked being squished under my claws or crushed by any trees I pushed out of my way.
I was curious as to what Rhaenyra meant by showing her and I could speculate on some things just by the legends of the Fatalis. When you analyze the stories you would come to realize that Fatalis was more like an eldritch abomination wrapped up in the skin of a fire-breathing dragon.
The Princess' Valyrian blood showed her something that she wasn't supposed to see.
My arrival at their camp caused widespread panic that I didn't pay any attention to. I stomped towards the royal tent and deposited the two royals at the entrance.
Rhaenyra glanced at the now deserted camp and her very alarmed father before she spoke to me, "Please, show him."
I spoke the king's name and watched him convulse and scream. Rhaenyra held onto her father as he lost the feelings to his legs and he bled from his eyes and nose. I looked up and took note that the Hand of the King was far enough away that Viserys would be able to recover long before they arrived.
"Why…" Viserys struggled to stand even with the help of the princess, but they managed, "Why have you come to us dragon? Why show us these visions?"
"I saw-we saw you and the burning of countless worlds." His voice shook from strain and fear, but the old king maintained eye contact with me, "Great Kingdoms brought low in a single night of unending flames. Entire lands scorched of life as we know it."
"Have you come to burn Westeros?" It was Rhaenyra who asked.
"The world is against you Rhaenyra. The realm would sooner see the kingdom burn before you're seated on the Iron Throne," I smiled. "I'm here to help tip the odds in your favor."
"In exchange for what?" The King asked as he stepped forward in front of his daughter, "What do you want from us in return? What's stopping you from just burning everything? The visions showed us that you are more than capable. You have done it countless times before." I let out a snort at the questions the king posed, smoke and embers escaping my nostril as I did so. I shifted my gaze to the princess and bent low so that we could see eye to eye.
"I doubt anything can stop me from doing so, but I've already decided on what I wanted and I want to see this through to the end. I want to see Rhaenyra sit on the Iron Throne. Take comfort in that. Who knows? With my help, not only will you solidify the Targaryen rule over Westeros, but maybe we can set our sites on Essos and beyond. Re-establish the Valyrian Freehold or make something greater than what it was."
I stood and flared my wings out, the act sending the tents around us flying and tables and chairs tumbling. Viserys held his daughter to steady her from the powerful gusts of wind. "I've already taken care of the Stepstones. You can see for yourself if you still have doubts. Corlys Valeryon has seen the power I can wield against your foes."
Viserys made to speak, but Rhaenyra stepped forward this time, "Yes! Help me sit on the Iron Throne and I will give my enemies to you. Do what you can to help me and I will repay you in kind. I swear it on the old gods and the new!"
"Perfect. Then, princess, I believe we have a deal." I turned to leave the two Targaryens. "Rest up, your grace. Tomorrow is a new day and we have much to do. Expect my arrival in King's Landing."
"Wait." I stopped in my tracks and looked back at Rhaenyra. "What should I call you?"
"Fatalis"
End Chapter 1
This second part is more of a setup and touching base with the necessary/important people in the world, but by the next chapter, there's going to be more dragon action and exploration into what a Fatalis can do.
I might go over the last parts of the Kingswood bits of this chapter and change or flesh things out more. It will do for now.
The Fatalis!SI's reasons are completely selfish, yes. He's not in Westeros to uplift or make it a better place. He wants to see someone on the Iron Throne and burn a lot of stuff along the way.
And hey, when you're reborn as this particular Elder Dragon I don't think you're coming out as a good guy no matter what you do. Might as well go all in.
Here's a visual aid on what Fatalis' nova breath attack looks like (The attack he used on the Stepstones).
Chapter 2 Part 1
Chapter 2
It was a quiet ride back to King's Landing for Rhaenyra and her father with Queen Alicent holding on to Aegon worriedly as she gave a pointed look at their bloodstained clothes. The princess couldn't really blame Alicent for being worried. As far as Rhaenyra knew she was the only one seen going mad from the visions that hearing Fatalis' voice caused. Her father was lucky enough that the hunting camp was deserted when he heard the black dragon speak his name. She was definitely going to get an earful when they got back to the Red Keep of that she was certain.
King Viserys did not trust promises that were too good to be true. What sane and competent ruler would? Much less a promise from a terrifying talking dragon that was possibly a demon or worse, the Lord of the Seven Hells who had come to destroy the Targaryen Dynasty. But Rhaenyra thought differently. She felt that Fatalis might be worse. From the visions, she saw that it was a being capable and willing to use mass destruction. And why shouldn't she have something like that as her ally?
Today alone was proof enough that even though the King had named her his heir the Lords of the Seven Kingdoms were celebrating that she had a brother to take her place. If they didn't believe in her then Fatalis would help make them believe that her father had made the right choice.
"Rhaenyra," The sound of her name pulled her out of her thoughts and she turned to look at Alicent. The queen held a silken handkerchief towards her and Rhaenyra looked at it in question. "Your nose is bleeding again."
"Oh," she gratefully accepted the cloth and slowly dabbed at her nose. When the princess looked down, there was more blood on the handkerchief than she thought. "Apologies, Your Grace, I may have ruined it."
"Think nothing of it, Rhaenyra. It's only blood." Alicent slowly took the princess' hand in hers. Rhaenyra looked up at her once best friend and saw the worry written across her face. "We should fetch the maesters when we return to the Red Keep. For both of you."
Rhaenyra smiled and nodded in agreement, but in truth, she felt fine. Better even. As if a weight was taken off of her shoulders. She relaxed into her seat and watched the rolling countryside outside the royal carriage.
In the middle of the Kingswood, there was a river called Wendwater. I sat at its edge and appreciated my dragon body's reflection in the water. I roamed my eyes over the tip of my tail, up to my clawed feet and arms, to my enormous wings attached to my shoulder, and finally up to my terrifying face.
From memory, I knew that a Fatalis' maximum size was 134 feet and a White Fatalis was 135 feet. Just an extra foot in length even if I end up becoming ancient. So, looking at me now, this was as big as I was gonna get. Although I might be wrong and I grow bigger.
The stories about Fatalis said that its eyes were made of crystals and looking down into the river, with my face almost touching the water, I could see that they had a crystalline appearance. From a distance, they may look red, but the scleras of my eyes were actually a deep purple while my irises were an amber-yellow color with the outer edges being red. How did I actually see anything if my eyes were made out of crystals? Who knows? I certainly don't and my dragon brain wasn't giving me any information about that.
Speaking of dragon brains, mine was undoubtedly special. It wasn't just instinct that told me how to move or how to breathe fire it also whispered some helpful pieces of information about the body I found myself in. It felt as if I had a user manual in my brain that helped streamline the functions necessary to being a living calamity.
I asked it how to spit a fireball and I'd suddenly know how to do it. To demonstrate it for myself I breathed in and let the fire in my body come to life. I looked down and observed the bright light underneath the scales of my chest before I let the heat travel up and into my mouth, but instead of just opening and unleashing hell I shaped the heat into a ball. I added more heat to the ball until I felt it was enough and spit it out.
My aim wasn't the best, the fireball I just spat arching up and to the left of the tree I was aiming at, but that mattered little when the fireball exploded as soon as it impacted the ground. The resulting explosion took out my target as well as a few dozen more around the impact point.
Without testing it out any further I also just knew that I could make the fireball bigger if I added more heat to it. I asked my dragon brain if I could mimic the signature fire attacks of another Elder Dragon, Safi'Jiiva, but it almost felt insulted at being asked if I could try and copy an inferior dragon's moves no matter how cool they would look.
Knowing my strengths, I now thought about my weakness and who or what could hurt me in Westeros. Scorpions, this world's version of ballistae, might be able to knock me out of the sky but I think killing me directly was unlikely. It can't compare to Monster Hunter's automatic ballistae. I doubt any human could even put a scratch on my scales. Unless they had Valyrian Steel weapons then they might be a problem if the rumors about them being magical were true, but they were very rare and easy to look out for. On that note, magic might be a problem but I couldn't remember if anyone had used magic to take down a dragon in the show.
The Night King and the White Walkers weren't really a concern for now. Not for a long time, at least.
I stood up, the ground shaking and the water in the river rippling as I moved around. I wanted to test out a few more things on my move list, but as demonstrated by just a simple fireball there wasn't anything a Fatalis did that was subtle.
Well…
I asked my dragon brain about the truth behind weapons and armor made from the materials harvested from a Fatalis… if the stories about nightmares, bloodlust, and possessions were what waited for people who were unfortunate enough to do so. My dragon brain answered with silence, but not one born from a lack of answers. I could tell it was giving me a look that said, "What do you think?"
Something to experiment with in the future.
I looked over the treetops and saw Westeros' capitol not too far away, the Red Keep looming over the rest of the city. It had only been a few hours since the hunting party left the Kingswood so I doubt anyone had the energy to deal with me for the rest of the day.
Scratch that, something to experiment with now. I had a few hours to kill anyways.
I ran my hands over my arms before picking a random scale out of the countless others and braced myself for the pain as I plucked it out. Strangely, or thankfully, I didn't feel any pain from losing a scale at all. I thought it would at least feel like pulling a strand of hair out at best or a tooth at worst, but aside from a tugging sensation on the skin, there wasn't any pain.
I observed the space my scale left on my arm for a few seconds and satisfied that I saw that there was no blood dripping out of me, I began my search for a test subject.
"Shouldn't you be feeling a bit worse about all the crimes against humanity you're doing or about to do?" A small and quiet part of my mind said.
"Is it concerning that you're bothered more about not feeling anything when you should be concerned about the acts themselves?" Said another part of my mind, also equally quiet.
"Poachers were a thing in Westeros, right? There's probably some around here in the Kingswood who haven't been scared off from the royal hunting party and all my firebreathing." Said the majority of my mind and was drowning out the quieter two voices.
Sneaking around the forest wasn't an option for a 134-foot-long scaly engine of destruction so I stayed in place and listened to my surroundings, hoping my heightened dragon senses would be able to hear something in the empty Kingswood.
It only took a few minutes for my ears to pick something out. Two somethings actually, close to where I was.
I was airborne one second and dive-bombing a poacher's camp the next. The camp was nothing of note and the people in it were less so. There were two men screaming up at me from the forest floor as if a dragon just fell on their dingy little camp.
When I described them as not much to look that I meant that figuratively and literally. Both men wore clothes that looked a few seconds away from just disintegrating into clumps of string and dirt. They were skinny in an unhealthy way and that was probably the reason why they risked hunting in the Kingswood.
Not wanting to hear them scream themselves to death I broke my plucked-out scale into two and threw it at their feet. The way the scale broke didn't shape it into anything useful, maybe an impractical shortsword, but what would two commoners do, say no to a dragon's "gift" at the height of the Targaryen Dynasty?
With that done, I made my exit and flew off deeper into the Kingswood.
I was about to deem the experiment a failure when, as the sun set in the distance, I felt a sensation in my mind. It was faint, at first, but slowly not only could I hear it, but I felt two heartbeats in my mind.
If there was anything to be terrified about, not counting the dragon-that-can-burn-the-whole world-down part, for now, it was definitely this because I was either making back-ups in case something in Westeros kills me or I just planted two more Fatalis into the world.
Now all I had to do was sit back and wait and see what happened.
King's Landing
Alicent was worried about Viserys and Rhaenyra.
Since the hunt for Aegon's second nameday and the arrival of the black dragon, the father and daughter duo had been out of sorts. Both of them wore vacant expressions the rest of the day with Rhaenyra locking herself up in her chambers while Viserys sat and stared at his sculpture of Old Valyria, unresponsive to anyone.
Her father was understandably worried as well and spent most of the night beside the king. The Hand of the King tried a few times to start a conversation with Viserys, but he only got one-word responses at best.
It was only late at night that Viserys stirred from his trance and prepared for bed with only a muttered "Rest, Otto," to dismiss her father with.
"Keep an eye on the king," Her father told her before quietly exiting their chambers.
Alicent realized too late the next day that if Viserys was acting this way then Rhaenyra probably wasn't faring any better. But, when she arrived at the princess's room it was empty. She felt panic bubble up inside her and instinctively picked at the skin around the nails of her thumb. She briskly left the bed chambers and started questioning the guards around the wing and asked if they had seen Rhaenyra. Thankfully, she didn't have to search for too long when a gold cloak said that she knew where the princess was and escorted her to the Iron Throne.
Princess Rhaenyra stood in front of the Iron Throne with a hand on one of the armrests. She wore her dark dragon-riding outfit, her hair combed neatly and straight down her back. Alicent wondered if the princess had just returned from flying Syrax, a pastime she loved doing above all else.
"Rhaenyra," The Queen approached her quietly, watching as Rhaenyra slowly turned to look at her, a distant look in her purple eyes. "I came to check up on you, but you weren't in your chambers."
"Ah, yes, forgive me, Alicent." Memories of the times before Alicent married Viserys flashed briefly in her mind, when she was just The Lady Hightower and Rhaenyra her best friend. Rhaenyra's mind must have been truly occupied for her to forget the hate she felt for her. "I wanted to clear my mind from the events of the royal hunt, but Syrax has been in a foul mood all morning. The Dragonkeepers could barely make her take one step out of her nest in the Dragonpit before she almost killed one of them."
"Rhaenyra," Alicent made her way towards her once best friend, ascending the steps to the throne so that she stood right in front of the princess. Without asking for permission Alicent pressed the back of her hand to Rhaenyra's forehead and found her to be hot to the touch. "Have the maesters seen to you at all?"
"Is father awake?"
"No, not yet. He was fast asleep when I left." Slowly, Alicent took hold of Rhaenyra's hands in hers and gave her a pleading look. "Maybe you should go back to bed. Rest for the day. I can have the servants bring food to your quarters?"
"You were always kind to me, Alicent." She froze in place as she locked eyes with the princess. "Even when I haven't returned the same courtesy to you the last two years."
"I-I…" Alicent felt a heavy feeling settle at the pit of her stomach. It's not like she didn't understand why Rhaenyra acted that way toward her. She did seduce the king at the urging of her own father. And while she did learn to love the Targaryen monarch she didn't choose him or fell in love with him. Still, this was probably the closest thing to an apology Rhaenyra would give her. "Yes, you have, but I understand. I won't pretend that I don't and I won't apologize for what I did."
"I don't expect you to." Rhaenyra smiled then. It was a small thing, but it was genuine. "Father has been happy with you. You've gotten him through the dark times after my mother's death. You've helped him more than I did. More than I could."
Alicent's feeling of worry was growing. She can't remember Rhaenyra ever being apologetic for anything she did. Why would she? She was a Targaryen, the blood of Old Valyria ran through her veins, and a Dragonrider. For all intents and purposes, the princess was close to the top of the food chain, sharing the spot with her two-year-old brother and only behind Daemon and her father, the King.
So what was making her afraid?
"Is that what it looks like to you? Fear?" Had she asked that out loud? Rhaenyra laughed for a moment. The action didn't feel unkind to Alicent, but more like the princess told a joke only she would understand. "Far from it, actually. I didn't realize that I felt that my position as the heir to the Iron Throne was unsure. Not until yesterday.
"And not until yesterday did I feel that nothing would be able to take that from me now."
There was a commotion outside the throne room. Alicent and Rhaenyra turned to watch the various nobles of the royal court being escorted by gold cloaks away from them. Soon enough the sounds of disgruntled lords and ladies being ordered to do something were drowned out by the sound of armor-clad feet marching toward the two of them.
Ser Harrold Westerling, Lord Commander of the Kingsguard, was the first to appear at the entrance of the throne room. The knight struck an intimidating figure in his shining silver armor and flowing white cloak. He made eye contact with the queen and princess briefly and if he was surprised they were standing close to the Iron Throne he didn't show it. Following close behind him and flanked with the rest of the Kingsguard was the King himself looking much better than he did last night.
"We've received reports from the gold cloaks posted on the wall," King Viserys forwent greeting the two women as he made his way towards them, a hard edge to his voice that Alicent had only heard him use with the Rogue Prince. "The black dragon has left the Kingswood."
"It's on its way to Kings Landing."
End Part 1
I'm already writing part 2. Stay Tuned!
References
Just want to add some size comparisons for Fatalis and the Targaryen dragons:
Fatalis is close to Caraxes in size. Fatalis growing to be around 4110.6 - 4119.2 cm (134 - 135 feet) and Caraxes size being 135 to 140 feet. That would mean that Fatalis would be the 6th biggest dragon in Westeros right now.
Fatalis is close to Caraxes in size. Fatalis growing to be around 4110.6 - 4119.2 cm (134 - 135 feet) and Caraxes size being 135 to 140 feet. That would mean that Fatalis would be the 6th biggest dragon in Westeros right now.
Chapter 2 Part 2
Part 2
Cobbler's Square, King's Landing
Ser Harwin Breakbones Strong, a captain in the City Watch of King's Landing and heir to Harrenhal, patrolled through Cobbler's Square and kept a watchful eye out for criminals bold enough to operate during the day. He had been a gold cloak long enough to know that there was plenty of smallfolk dumb and desperate enough to do something stupid in broad daylight. Sometimes those were the more dangerous ones as they had nothing left to lose.
Other than his usual duties today was like any other day in the capital of the Seven Kingdoms-
Ser Harwin looked down at his boots and found a large rat, almost the size of a cat, scurrying over his toes. A swift kick sent it squeaking and tumbling away with its worm-like tail flailing in the air. The impromptu flight of the vermin didn't stop it thought as it ran through the crowds of people in Cobbler's Square with some people making sounds of alarm while others barely cared enough to react.
He was about to return to his watch when one more rat crossed right in front of him. Then two, then a dozen, then a hundred, and then what looked like every rat that made King's Landing their home ran for their little lives. They climbed over tables, chairs, and people as they all stampeded towards the Gate of the Gods, the city's northwestern gate.
The sudden appearance of millions of disgusting rodents sent the smallfolk into a panic. Ser Harwin could only watch as people either tried to outrun them or find shelter in the nearby stores and houses only to find rats in them also trying to get out. He wasn't terrified of rats, but the smell of so many was gods' awful. As if King's Landing didn't smell of shit and piss enough then it already did.
Harwin froze in place as the hairs on the back of his neck stood up and the knight instinctively drew his sword and turned to where he felt the feeling of danger had come from. In the distance, he could see the Red Keep and the unmistakable shape of the black dragon he saw in the Kingswood yesterday landing in the Godswood. Each beat of its massive wings sent a gust of wind down the streets of King's Landing.
The feeling of wrongness didn't leave Harwin and his sense of duty solidified his courage to start marching toward the Red Keep.
When you've read or heard about King's Landing they always mention the smell and yeah, it fucking sucked. It sucked even more with my newly dragon-heightened senses. I wasn't inexperienced in unpleasant smells, but a medieval city, even a fantasy one like Westeros, was an experience on another level.
I tried to land on the Red Keep's Godswood as softly as I could, but I was a dragon, and even my best attempt to land without breaking anything still shook the weirwood tree hard enough for more leaves than what was probably healthy to fall and a loose branch to break of and crash into the red flowers growing at its base.
The Red Keep's Godswood was bigger than what I remember seeing in the shows. It was an acre of elm, alder, and black cottonwood trees surrounding the lone weirwood tree in the middle.
I could practically hear the whole Red Keep's activity and a majority of them were making their way to the Godswood. If I listened hard enough I could even make out the voices of the royals that were present at the moment. I hadn't seen hide nor hair of the Blood Wyrm returning from wherever it fucked off to since I visited the Stepstones so the chances of Daemon or Corlys Velaryon -who was probably sailing towards King's Landing or Driftmark as we speak- being in King's Landing were slim.
Viserys was giving instructions to various people around him. Rhaenyra was being told to let him speak for most of the conversation with me and urged Alicent to stay behind to not endanger her pregnancy. The rest of the small council was told to stand back with the rest of the Kingsguard.
A male voice, older than the King's, tried to object to the king and princess meeting with me alone. But, Viserys helpfully pointed out that neither the Kingsguard nor their dragons would be of any use to them at this point.
I made note of going to the Dragonpit before the day was done. To either see other dragons up close or to see how they measured up to what I could do, who knows? My dragon brain was certainly tingling at the prospect of dominating lesser dragons. I could practically feel it make air quotes when it thought of the Valyrian dragons as actual dragons.
The Targaryens and their royal entourage arrived in the Godswood soon enough and found me standing beside the weirwood tree. There were more people following behind who I assumed were the small council, but they were blocked by a line of gold cloaks from approaching any closer.
The small council themselves did as they were ordered and stayed behind, but closer than the curious nobles and gold cloaks. I saw a tall man looking at the king and princess with a dire expression on his face. With his gaunt face and dark green clothing, I knew that he was the Hand of the King, Ser Otto Hightower. Beside him was a man much older and heavier than him in white robes and a chain necklace consisting of different metals around his neck. Grand Maester Runciter if I was remembering correctly. An older man with dark grey hair and dark clothes stood beside the Grand Maester who I could only assume was the Master of Coin, Lyman Beesbury. Finally, there was Lyonel Strong who was not as heavyset as the Grand Maester, but he was close.
I saw Alicent take a peek from around the corner before a few members of the Kingsguard escorted her away to safety.
"Tell me, Viserys, Rhaenyra," I started as the father and daughter duo approached and were close enough to me. I craned my neck down to look at the two Targaryens seeing as they weren't even tall enough to reach my knees. "If you could get rid of any enemy right at this moment… Who would it be?"
"The Seven Kingdoms have been reaping the benefits of peace and prosperity since the time of my predecessor and grandsire, King Jaehaerys the Wise." Viserys took the lead while Rhaenyra remained silent, the portly king standing in front of his daughter and heir protectively. "We are not at war with anyone."
"Is that so?" I had thought about what I wanted to do and what I wanted to get out of coming to King's Landing. I didn't need anyone's approval when you get down to it, but I had a goal in mind and my efforts in Westeros would go a lot smoother if the people I allied myself to were cooperative and helpful rather than actively working against me. To make them, more specifically make Viserys, accept my help in securing Rhaenyra's rule as the future ruler of the Seven Kingdoms I had to show him and give him firsthand experience on what exactly a Fatalis was capable of. Never mind the visions they saw in the Kingswood and my ability to communicate with them.
You could say the Targaryens, out of anyone, should know what a dragon is capable of. But, comparing the dragons from this world and myself was like comparing a match to the sun.
"The Triarchy has been challenging you the past few years, correct?" I bent down low so I was level with the Targaryen King, "Are they not your enemies?"
"I won't drag my kingdom into a war!"
"You're not going to war," I held back a sigh as it seemed Viserys wasn't picking up what I was putting down.
"But you will." It was Rhaenyra who spoke up this time which seemed to surprise Viserys. Her father had told her to let him do the talking, but what was the point? Rhaenyra had already made the deal with Fatalis and she doubted that she could back out of it easily. It shifted its gaze toward her and she almost cowered at the intensity of its amber-hued gaze. But she knew what the black dragon meant and she wanted to confirm what she thought its plans were. "You want to fight them. You're going to Essos."
"That's right, but don't think of it as a war or even a battle." Fatalis sat a bit straighter as it flared its wings out and encircled Rhaenyra and her father in its shadow. "Instead, think about what you can do with three cities worth of resources at your disposal. Think about the territory that the Seven Kingdoms will soon have and the message this will send. Who will challenge your House? Certainly, no other Free Cities or Lords of the Seven Kingdoms will challenge or question you once I'm done."
Rhaenyra looked to her father then who was finally considering the idea. After all, three cities worth of anything was a great prize even for a Targaryen King. The princess herself thought about what this would mean for her, but more specifically the fact that this show of force might just be the key for her father and the other lords to stop bothering her with talks of marriage or even worse, children. She would be free, or as close to it, to ascend the Iron Throne with the riches of the Triarchy and the power of a world-ending dragon at her side.
Rhaenyra could see her father was close to agreeing to the black dragon's idea but still hesitated. So, she proposed an idea that even he would be interested in.
"If I wished for Old Valyria as well," Rhaenyra started and observed her father and Fatalis. The King looked at her in surprise. She didn't much care for Old Valyria herself, but she knew her father had always wanted to see the birthplace of House Targaryen even in its ruined glory. "Would you help us reclaim it?"
"Well now, that's an idea," There was amusement and laughter in Fatalis' voice. "The horrors of the Doom of Valyria are legendary. No one has ever returned from there as far as I know."
"I doubt it would be a challenge for you," Rhaenyra said as she tried to play at its pride.
"Oh, I hope it would." Fatalis' eyes held a dangerous glint to them as it stared at Rhaenyra and the king, but they didn't need to wait for too long as it gave its answer, "Very Well. The Triarchy and Old Valyria are yours."
"I will speak to the small council, it will take some time to organize everything," The King finally said after a long silence. Rhaenyra shouldn't have been surprised that her father would agree, but still. "But, I don't want to rule over the dead and ashes. Do not destroy the cities entirely and help us free the slaves. They will go a long way toward keeping Myr, Lys, and Tyrosh under our control in the future."
"Acceptable." Fatalis' massive head rose and looked out over Blackwater Bay, its eyes tracking something in the distance. "And it seems the Velaryons have finally made it back from the Stepstones."
Aboard The Sea Snake
Daemon wasn't particularly pleased. The last few days had been one headache after another for the Rogue Prince and what made it worse was he didn't know who to go after for inconveniencing him. It started with the stalemate in his war with the Triarchy. The Crabfeeder could easily replenish his numbers with three Free Cities supporting him while Daemon only had the Velaryon's men and whatever sellsword they could buy. Caraxes and Seasmoke were just enough of a force multiplier to even the odds.
But then something caught his and Laenor's dragons and whatever it was they didn't want anything to do with it. After a rough flight of trying to get the dragons back in control, Daemon and Laenor found themselves somewhere in the deserts of Dorne. It took a day for the dragons to calm down and another for them to fly back and find Lord Corlys and his fleet.
Daemon had seen what was left of the Stepstones when they flew past. There was nothing left of the island his forces and the Triarchy fought on. There was no sand, no cliffs, and no bodies. The only thing left were plains of glass and deformed rocks.
When they found the Sea Snake, Lord Corlys told them what had happened as soon as they flew off. Of the black dragon that laid waste to their enemies and the island. The Lord of High Tide told them that the dragon flew north, towards King's Landing, and that made Daemon worry for his family. Thankfully Lord Corlys and his fleet were on their way to the capital. If the dragon did fly towards the Seven Kingdoms' seat of power then Viserys would need all the help they can get.
Unfortunately, things didn't get any easier the closer they got to King's Landing. As they passed through The Gullet and into Blackwater Bay Caraxes and Seasmoke started to panic again and flew off towards Dragonstone. Daemon could guess that the black dragon that attacked the Stepstones was what was his dragon, a fearsome, battle-tested, and fully grown dragon was running away from.
"There it is," Daemon turned and looked at Lord Corlys who gestured toward the Red Keep, but more specifically what was on the Red Keep. Standing atop the wall, right beside the Kingsguard's White Sword Tower was the black dragon. Its black scales shone in the late afternoon sun and its immense form cast a shadow over the entire Blackwater Bay.
Daemon could already tell that it was looking at them.
Questions flooded his mind upon seeing it on the Red Keep. Was it some secret dragon Viserys had been hiding all this time? From him of all people? Impossible. Did he send it to the Stepstones? No, that was unlikely if it weren't one of their dragons. He and Viserys were also too stubborn enough not to help each other unless a miracle happened. So what was it? An unknown dragon from unknown places?
A mystery, Daemon thought as he paced restlessly on the Sea Snake's main deck, hands resting on the pommel of his Valyrian Steel blade, Dark Sister. Lord Corlys' sailors gave him a wide berth as they prepared to dock at King's Landing. One I intend to solve.
Viserys needed time to prepare so that left me with a lot of time to explore King's Landing. I didn't know how long it would take them to decide. Still, I suspected that with the help of Corlys and Daemon's recounting of events at the Stepstones the small council would quickly conclude that I could take on Lys, Myr, Tyrosh, and Valyria.
My future was certainly going to be exciting.
But, since I had nothing better to do I started to explore the city, climbing up over the Red Keep's walls and walking down its streets. If I was still human my eyes would probably be tearing up because of the smell. I didn't even want to think about what I was stepping on and just resolved to use an abundant amount of fire to clean myself later. The smallfolk of King's Landing were used to seeing dragons from time to time flying above their heads, but judging from their awed expressions they weren't used to seeing one so close and towering over them and the buildings that lined the streets.
I slowly made my way to the Dragonpit located up on Rhaenys' Hill, which was quite visible from the Red Keep and easily visible for something of my size. With so many people occupying the streets I folded my wings into a wedge shape in front of me and snow-plowed people out of my way. Yes, there were quite a few who got hurt, but if they were standing still while a dragon was walking toward them then they were just stupid.
I noticed the Dragonpit was eerily quiet when I arrived at its gates. Even with my enhanced hearing, I could only hear the sounds of the people and none of the dragons. I could only assume they were staying quiet so they wouldn't attract my attention, but that wasn't going to stop me from seeing them. The Dragonpit itself was a huge domed castle and one of the two largest buildings in the city along with the Red Keep. The main gate was a massive metal door made out of what looked like bronze judging by the distinct green hue the metal takes on when it's oxidized. The size alone of the door was impressive and was clearly built for Balerion the Black Dread's size.
I pushed the gate open with ease and broke whatever held it locked and closed on the other side. As I strode inside the Dragonpit I turned to look at what the lock was and saw that it was a huge drawbar made of metal that was now bent and useless. I didn't actually tell any of the Targaryens that I planned on visiting their dragons so the caretakers, the Dragonkeepers, currently stationed inside the Dragonpit shouted alarms.
Whatever they were trained to do were for tamed dragons and not for something like me. Anyone who went to the racket I caused at the main gate took one look at me and saw the smoke rising from my jaws that I made to scare off anyone that tried anything quickly turned and went back to wherever they came from. I chuckled at the display before I made my way into the pit itself.
The Dragonpit was a huge… well, pit. A manmade pit with numerous manmade caves to house the royal dragons. The dome covering the pit acted as a sort of coliseum with stone benches lining the inside of the dome in raised platforms. The center was covered in a thick layer of sand. I knew that beneath me were forty under vaults which were carved in a great ring. On the opposite side of where I stood was a stone ramp that led underneath the pit where the dragons nested.
Descending the pit I found the caves underneath were pleasantly cool, big enough that I didn't have to bend down, and dark aside from the occasional torch that was spaced out along the walls. There were forty under vaults that acted as the stables for the dragons and each had large iron doors that closed off their entrances. Stone stables for the dragons, Maegor Targaryen had called them. I made my way towards the closest under vault and slowly pried the doors open. The resulting stream of flame that washed over me was surprising at first until I remembered I was a dragon and immune to a whole list of things. I stepped into the under vault quickly and grabbed the snout of whatever dragon was breathing fire at me.
"Stop it," The golden dragon growled and tried to pull away from my grip, small tongues of smoke and flame escaping the gaps in its maw, but that was as much as it could accomplish. I rolled my eyes at it before I let it go, watching the gold dragon as it backed up to the far end of its nest. It tried to look threatening, baring its fangs with its whole body low to the ground as if it was about to strike, but I didn't feel afraid. My dragon brain wasn't afraid either, more annoyed at the sorry excuse of a dragon the Valyrian species were.
When you compared a Targaryen dragon to a wyvern in the Monster Hunter world they were not much different. Pretty basic, all things considered. Compared to a proper Elder Dragon like a Kushala Daora or a Teostra, which were living, breathing, forces of nature? Well, we don't even have to go so far as to compare them to the Black Dragons, the Dangerous First-Class Monsters whose very existence had the potential to end the world.
With the 3 out of 5 known Black Dragons being Fatalis, Crimson Fatalis, and White Fatalis. 4 if the stories about Dire Miralis being another form of Fatalis were true.
Although the spectacular nature of the dragons of this world was significantly diminished they still looked pretty cool and I took the time to observe them. I paid no mind to the jets of flame as I got close or the efforts to try and bite me, both didn't amount to much especially when I was immune to fire and had a pair of arms that could boop them on the snout like they were just a snippy little dog.
Unprompted, my dragon brain nudged me for my attention. I was so distracted by messing around with the gold dragon that I completely missed that a group of people had entered the main gate to the Dragonpit. Leaving the under vaults and closing the iron doors behind me, I made my way up to the main floor and found Rhaenyra, a few Kingsguard, and a few dozen Dragonkeepers and gold cloaks waiting for me. The gold cloaks had cordoned off the main gate where a crowd of smallfolk was trying to look in while the Dragonkeepers, as soon as I had emerged from underground, had quietly marched down most likely to check on the damage I caused.
"I must speak with you," Rhaenyra started as she approached me. There were two Kingsguard standing close to the princess whom I recognized as the twins, Arryk and Erryk.
"Alright," I settled down in the sand right in front of the princess, folding my arms and legs beneath me. The twin Kingsguard beside Rhaenyra was on edge, my words sounding like a low growl to them. "Speak."
"Daemon and Lord Corlys told the small council about what happened in the Stepstones," Looking at the princess a bit closer I saw that she was shaken up by what she heard.
"It's becoming all too real for you now, Rhaenyra?"
"The visions were one thing, but," Rhaenyra composed herself as best as she could, but I could still see the small tremors in her hands and shoulders. "They said there were two thousand Triarchy soldiers occupying the islands of the Stepstones. And you flew in and everything is just gone."
"You seem surprised? The dragons and the destruction they bring and can promise is what united the Seven Kingdoms and solidified House Targaryen's dynasty in Westeros."
"But nothing like that," I could feel that the Targaryen heir wanted to ask me something, but something was stopping her. I sighed.
"Ask whatever is on your mind."
"I would have your reason on why you wanted to help me." Rhaenyra looked up at me unflinchingly with her shoulders squared and back straight, trying to project as much authority as she could to a dragon a few stories taller than she was. "The truth."
"Is that all?" I laughed. "You act as if you're about to murder someone."
"Isn't that what we're about to do? Three cities about to be put to the sword?"
"If you'd like to think of it like that. Very well, then, the truth."
End Part 2
I post this on SB as well so you might have read it there first.
Chapter 2 Part 3
Part 3
"Two hundred years from now, a great tragedy will occur. One that will affect millions of lives around the world… A show on track to be the greatest tv drama of all time ends in the most meh way possible. And that's being really kind to what happened in the eighth season."
"I don't understand. A television?"
"Imagine seven seasons of teases, cliffhangers, story building, and build-up wasted at the finish line. I mean the characters who had grown throughout the series suddenly became so one-dimensional it's like the people who wrote the last few episodes just went Fuck it! Let's try something horrible!"
"What are episodes?"
"Don't get me wrong though, at the moment it first aired there were some memorable and fun-to-watch moments. But then the episode ends and you're left with questions, too many questions that leave you with the biggest one Wait, what the fuck?"
"Nine years of story building up only to stumble at the finish line, to a wet fart of a pay-off… So, that's the truth, Rhaenyra. I'm here to prevent that wet fart."
"I have to sit on the Iron Throne to prevent that wet fart two hundred years from now?" The princess looked at me with a troubled expression. I could tell that she wanted to ask questions, but it would lead to answers that would create even more questions for her.
Did I tell her the truth? Not really. Hell, my being here now and fucking things up meant that the Game of Thrones storyline would never come to pass. Preventing a great tragedy did sound ominous and prophetical enough though so it would have to do.
I was mostly here to enjoy myself and set things on fire. The worst possible tourist any place could ask for.
"The knowledge that I have given to you will take time to understand, but know that it's for the greater good… of my entertainment." That last part I said quietly, but the princess was still busy trying to wrap her head around everything I said so I doubt that she heard me.
One downside of being The Black Dragon was the loss of the ability to emote like a human. This moment would have called for an arm around the shoulder and a heart-to-heart with the troubled princess, but since that was physically impossible for me I settled for a head pat like she was the tiniest of dogs and/or cats. "Rest assured Rhaenyra, the Iron Throne is yours and you won't need to marry any lords or birth any children to convince the realm. All you'll need is my ability to make your problems go away."
I'm sure my advice and support won't go to this impressionable teen's head.
Heh
In the days of Viserys speaking to his small council and the other lords of Westeros about a campaign against the Triarchy, word of what I did in the Stepstones was finally spreading throughout the Seven Kingdoms thanks to Corlys Velaryon and whoever survived down south. News of the Targaryens in possession of a dragon powerful enough to incinerate two thousand men and the island they were on sent King's Landing in a spiral of gossip and speculation. More fuel was added to the fires of discussion when sailors described my attack as "the sun falling from the sky".
The smallfolk were more than happy to celebrate the defeat of an enemy half of them never even heard of while the lords and ladies of different houses felt a bit of fear of what it meant that the King had allowed destruction on such a large scale to happen.
Would King Viserys the Peaceful unleash The Black Dragon on them if they displeased him?
Support of using me against the Free Cities from different houses grew and soon enough VIserys and Rhaenyra had enough manpower and resources to secure Myr, Lys, and Tyrosh. The potential riches of controlling the glass industry of Myr, the alchemists of Lys, and whatever Tyrosh had to offer wasn't a prize to be overlooked either.
Old Valyria would be another problem that they wanted to deal with after taking the three cities. The ancient home of the Targaryens was filled with bad news that no one alive knew about. Would the Fourteen Flames, fourteen volcanoes that brought the Doom of Valyria, be a problem? Were there Firewyrms hiding underground? Were there chimeric abominations created with blood magic roaming the streets of the ruined Freehold? Maybe there were wyverns from Sothoryos roaming the skies above the peninsula?
I was hoping for apes that "dwarfed the largest giants" myself. Maybe they found their way to Old Valyria somehow and I could fight one of them. Make it a real Godzilla versus Kong moment.
Nevertheless, I had to wait for everything to be ready which meant I had some free time on my hands. It was time that I used to learn where the cities were located on a map so I knew where to fly when the time came. Either Rhaenyra or Viserys would tell me personally of current developments while I lazed around the Red Keep or roamed King's Landing. Daemon would always try to speak with me, but two Targaryens speaking with me were more than enough for now. Apparently, whatever magic governed their ability to understand me only activated if I said their name first. I wasn't sure how it worked, but I had tested it, and while the king and princess understood me when I spoke, even though Daemon was standing right beside them, he did not.
Sometimes my dragon brain would ask when was the next time we would burn something as it was getting boring. I was getting bored too, but I knew that soon we would be on our way to deal with Tyrosh first and then Myr and Lys.
According to the most recent plan I had heard I would be given free rein of dealing with any armies that Essos would throw at us and the people of Westeros would be responsible for locking down the cities after I was done. The lords of the Seven Kingdoms were hoping that getting a small taste of what I could do would be enough to have most of the people living within the cities to lay down their arms and surrender.
I would try and keep collateral damage to a minimum and keep as many civilians as non-crispy as possible, but being Fatalis wasn't exactly living life in low settings.
Finally, after close to a month of gathering the men, the supplies, and the ships needed to cross the Narrow Sea we were ready to set sail.
End Chapter 2
Chapter 3 and all its parts would be the travel going to Essos and the conquering of the three Free Cities and Old Valyria.
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Question for the thread.
Who would logically go with the conquering force? Would Viserys go himself, or would he most likely send someone to be his voice? Would any small council members or any lords go?
I was thinking that Rhaenyra and Daemon would go and act as the "voice" and "will" of the king (and also to be people to speak with the SI), but for anyone else I'm not sure who would go.
Who would logically go with the conquering force? Would Viserys go himself, or would he most likely send someone to be his voice? Would any small council members or any lords go?
I was thinking that Rhaenyra and Daemon would go and act as the "voice" and "will" of the king (and also to be people to speak with the SI), but for anyone else I'm not sure who would go.