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The Heir of the Dragon: A Rhaenyra Targaryen Quest

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Ugh, I couldn't stick around in cersei quest for long, just felt like we had 0 agency to accomplish anything at all with how few actions we had and the chain of command nonsense going on.
 
A look at where things stand, probably gonna let this go until tomorrow
Adhoc vote count started by Teen Spirit on Oct 21, 2024 at 7:12 PM, finished with 55 posts and 46 votes.
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    Interlude: Weirwood Dreams II
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    • Interlude: Weirwood Dreams II​

    Part of you all but screamed to go towards the Battlefield, bring the fight to those who dared attack you and defend those who had given you guest right. But doubt held your blade. You knew not who was fighting or if there was even fighting at all and not your mind playing tricks on you. More than that though, your mind craved answers. For something or someone to make sense of what was going on. And you knew the best chance, the only chance for answers lay with the woman staring at the Weirwood tree.

    You approached cautiously, hand gripping your sword tightly as you walked through the Godswood.

    You were not immune to fear. No man or woman was in truth. But you were no coward either. You had fought crowds of angry, honorless boys with nothing but your fists before and never once did fear grab hold of you. But at this moment, you could feel your insides grow cold and your breath coming hard and fast as you stepped through the Godswood. Despite the darkness, the gnarled grove of trees managed to cast long shadows over your path, with only the barest hint of hazy moonlight eking out between the trees to guide your path.

    Trees rustled and you heard the distinct sound of hooves clambering over the rocks and roots as something, or several somethings, watched you through the trees.

    For a moment, you froze in place, breath caught in your throat before you forced yourself to swallow and press forward.

    "You cannot stop what's to come," the woman declared as you approached. "The threads you add are your own, but the weave began long ago."

    "Who are you?!" Your voice rose in confused frustration. "I grow tired of this game."

    The woman turned towards you, though her mismatched eyes did not meet yours.

    She was unmistakably Targaryen, but her pale features were unfamiliar to you. Maybe. You could not tell for certain with how little light there was. One cheek was marked by a deep red birthmark in the shape of claws, her white hair was long and messy and a dress of soft yellow clung to her frame. Her expression seemed tired and wary, eyes occasionally looking at you as if she was as skeptical of your existence as you were of hers.

    "You should know the answer to that," the woman spoke. "You named me after all. Named me and rejected me."

    "What do you mean by that?" you demanded and reached out towards her only for the mysterious woman to pull away from you.

    A mighty roar filled the air and you both turned to see two figures flying through the clouds. Their vast wings were making it unmistakably clear these were dragons.

    "Is this the hells?" You wondered out loud.

    "If only it were so simple," the woman replied in a dower voice.

    The dragons burst through the clouds and you strained to see who they were, but they were almost formless in the night sky. No matter how much you stared, you could barely make out any of their features even as they fired great gouts of flame at each other. You caught a glimpse of their riders though. One was armored from head to toe with a cape flowing behind them. Was it Daemon? You couldn't be sure. The other figure was more distant. Smaller. All you saw of them was hair that shined a brilliant white gold.

    More roars filled the air as the two dragons fought. Many more. You could swear for a moment you heard every dragon you had ever known. Syrax. Meleys. Caraxes. And yet more, all roaring at once in a grand, terrible song.

    "They will dance, and they will fall," the strange woman declared. "Such it has been written since the Doom."

    Your nerve was beginning to break, confusion mixing with a growing sense of terror and fear.

    "Please," you begged as your turned back towards the woman, "what is all of this?! Answer me. Please."

    The woman smiled sadly at you.

    "Answers will not provide you comfort, nor will they change what is to come," the woman's words were sympathetic in tone.

    She paused for a moment, a thoughtful expression on her face.

    "I will tell you this one thing, and one thing alone," she declared. "You will find death in the God's Eye."

    You reached out again, trying to grasp her wrist, only for your hand to be greeted by empty air. The woman had dissolved into so much mist right before your eyes.

    The dragons were gone as well, the night air growing suddenly very quiet. The moon was shining brightly as all signs of clouds disappeared. You could no longer hear the sound of battle in the distance, nor could you smell any smoke. It was as if everything that had plagued you this night had disappeared all at once. If those things had even been real in the first place.

    The sound of your own heavy breaths filled the air as you stared at the weirwood tree, it's leering face seeming to mock you as tears rolled down your cheeks.

    You looked around frantically for any sign of the girl. For a moment you caught a glimpse of an antlered figure in the distance, the shadows hiding if it was a deer or something else. You gave chase, your mind racing with a thousand thoughts, only for a voice to stop you in your tracks.

    "I wouldn't do that if I were you," a new voice called out. "They don't like to be chased."

    You turned to see another woman starring at you. This new lady had long raven-black hair and her eyes were green as she stared at you owlishly. She was almost as pale as the woman with the birthmark though.

    "What are doing out here anyways?" she asked. "And why do you have a sword?"

    You looked around in a mix of frustration and disbelief, your mind reeling from what just happened, if any of it was even real. You were tired and scared, at an utter loss to make sense of anything.

    "Come with me," the woman offered warmly. "I'll make you something to help you sleep."

    +3 Stress

    Rhaenyra has Dreamed of Things Yet to Come.
    You followed her, largely for lack of anything else to do. The raven haired woman led you towards what seemed to be some sort of Maester's room near the castle's main keep. The walls were lined with herbs, medicines and other, stranger, things.

    "Sit," she gestured towards a nearby stool as she brought up a mortar and pestle and began pulling things off the shelves.

    "What was that?" you finally dared ask as your confidence began to return, though your mind was still awash with uncertainity and confusion.

    "One of the green men I believe," the woman remarked casually as she began to grind something into a paste. "Don't usually see them off the Isle of Faces.

    "No not that," you paused for a moment, considering asking just what the Green Men were before deciding that you had enough confusion this night. "I mean the woman at the tree. And the storm."

    "Hmm?" the woman starred at you quizzically. "You were the only woman I saw near the Heart Tree and there was no storm, just some early fog. I can't answer about what your dreams showed you, girl."

    A dream. Could all of that have really just been a dream? Part of you screamed yes, of course it was. It didn't feel real. But it didn't feel that unreal either. That woman. That girl. she seemed much more than just some figment of your mind.

    "I don't think I've ever heard of a dream so intense," you sighed wearily.

    "No?" she questioned. "Wasn't it dreams that led your family to travel here in the first place? That's what the legends say anyways."

    You gave the woman a puzzled stare. Daenys the Dreamer and her story weren't exactly hidden knowledge, but it wasn't something most cared to learn about.

    "Who are you anyways?" you asked, realizing you had followed a complete stranger into a herbalist's hut without even asking her name.

    "They call me Alys," she explained.

    "Strong?" you questioned.

    "Rivers," Alys clarified, marking herself as bastard-born.

    The woman's features were familar. Not like the strange woman at the tree, but you could see a resemblance in her cheekbones and eyes.

    "Are you Lord Strong's daughter?" you dared.

    Alys chuckled in response.

    "Many have assumed as much," she said with amusement.

    "What do you do here?" you questioned.

    "Many things," Alys replied. "I've been a cook. A chambermaid. I've filled in as a Maester when one flees into the night. I've been a wet nurse and a stablehand. I fill whatever roll the castle needs of me."

    A curious answer, but you were too tired and too distracted to give it much thought.

    "Do you really think a dream could have lead me out of my room and to the Godswood, sword in hand?" you asked as you placed the blade gently on the table.

    You knew your family had dreams that were different, allegedly providing glimpses of the future. Daenys had dreamed. As did Aegon the Conqueror according to your father. But such dreams were rare and you had never experienced one yourself. If you were being honest with yourself, you didn't want it to be such a dream, for that meant what you saw might yet come true.

    "I could easily believe that," Alys remarked as she worked a red paste with her hands. "This place is full of foul magic. Sleep does not often come easy here."

    "I know," you nodded. "The Black Dread's visit left a curse on this place. Or so they say."

    "Oh, it was cursed long before Aegon arrived," Alys corrected you. "It's said Black Harren cut down an entire grove of weirwood trees when he built this place. Used the timbers as supports and to make his bed. The very bed you now sleep in. He also mixed the blood of his thralls with the mortar of the castle. They say the souls of his slaves intermingled with the ancient souls that dwelled within the Heart trees."

    What she was saying was absolutely absurd, but she said it with such certainty. This was not some deeply held belief to her, but simply a fact of this castle. Maybe what she described would explain why your... Dream? Vision? Why that was so intense.

    "That is a strange tale," you remarked. "Why would Harren do any of that? It just seems like he was asking for trouble."

    "Why did you ancestor build his throne out of sharp swords?" Alys turned the question back on you. "Kings are often a strange breed of their own."

    "Do you find me strange?" you asked, the question suddenly appearing in your mind.

    "I was told you were to become Queen, not King," Alys replied coolly.

    "It is the same thing," you asserted. "I will sit the Iron Throne and rule in my own name when the time comes."

    Which you found yourself hoping more and more wouldn't be for a very long time.

    "Hmm," Alys nodded. "Then no. I wouldn't say you're strange. Unusual, yes. It's rare to see a woman who looks strong enough to carry a cow over her shoulders, but that's not a bad thing, wouldn't you agree?"

    You smiled despite what you've just experienced. It was always nice to see someone compliment you instead of whispering that you were a freak just out of earshot.

    "Here. Drink this," Alys said as she offered you a metal cup. "You need your sleep if you're to make a good impression upon this place."

    You stared at the cup cautiously. The liquid inside was dark and thick, bits of crushed up things mixed throughout. The smell was odd as well. Not rotten or foul, just off in a way you couldn't quite put into words.

    You were hesitant. On the one hand, you did need sleep, particularly after the strange vision you had. But on the other hand, this was a strange brew made by a somewhat odd woman you had just met. You had no reason to think she poisoned you, yet you also had little beyond her own word that this would help you in any way.

    Do you accept Alys' drink?

    [] Take the drink. You need sleep.

    [] Politely decline.

    QM's Note: Don't take the stress as indication of a screw up. Rhaenyra had an intense dream while on Weirwood bed in a haunted castle. That's gonna mess with a person. Also, before anyone asks, I'm not gonna reveal what you would have seen if you went towards the battle, just that it would be rather different and have different effects. And I will say that who the lady by the tree was will be answered in time. It's not a mystery box. Hope you enjoyed this interlude. I've really been looking forward to it.
     
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