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Robert is a badass who treats killing gods and slaying demons like just another Thursday. Did you know it was inspired by Thairon, the protagonist of my original story, Arrival : Ruptures, long before I began to write it? Comments, likes and reviews are appreciated. Here are the links for : AO3, Spacebattles, Royal Road and Webnovel.
—
Novigrad
Triss let her magic flow into the obsidian candle. She tried to get a sense of how the artifact worked, thinking it was similar to a megascope. She was both right and wrong.
An orange flame was lit at the top of the candle. It expanded into a rectangular screen, presenting a clear image of the city as she wanted to see it. It even came with the proper colors.
"Where should I look?" she asked. This was more advanced than a megascope.
"I checked the maps. Unless I am in another world, my home should be east of this continent. Let's just see how far east you can go."
She nodded, turning her attention to the screen. The vision on it began to slide left, leaving Novigrad. It quickly picked up speed, reaching the DeadWight Wood, Tretegor, and then the Kestrel Mountains. It blurred over Kaedwen and stopped at the Blue Mountains.
And then she was over the Sea of Zerrikania. It stretched into an endless body of blue. The rest of the planet had never been explored. If there indeed were a new continent, or continents, there, it would change everything.
"Wait, stop," Robert said as the blue changed to green once more. The screen came to a sudden stop, displaying an enormous, glowing tree.
"Haha!" he laughed. "That's the Mother Tree at Heaven's Stead."
"Your home, my lord?" she asked. That tree was extraordinary, even with a mere glance.
"A land under my control, but no. Continue east; I'll guide you," he said. Triss did as commanded, moving the scrying spell further east, slower this time.
Over the Riverlands and Vale, she found Gulltown. Down east, she passed over Dragonstone, the lands of Bar Emmon and Massey, before Asgard stood in front of them.
"That's it."
"Enter the top room there."
"There he is. Can you relay my voice now?"
"I can do even better," she said. Her hands flashed, and Tyrion jumped on his seat, seeing another screen appear before him.
"Tyrion, can you hear me?" he asked.
"My lord?! Where are you? We've all been worried," the dwarf exclaimed, putting a hand over his heart.
"Long story short, we got sent to a continent east of Westeros. I need you to prepare a fleet with ships that the dragons can land on during transport."
"At once."
"Who was it that orchestrated all this?" They were all dead, of that he was certain. He just wanted to know.
"Rhaegar Targaryen. He, along with most of the Kingsguard and his friends, is dead. Slifer took King's Landing with your grandmother."
He rolled his eyes. Of course that inbred imbecile was responsible. "Is the city intact?"
Tyrion winced. "There was some damage to the Red Keep. Lady Rhaelle stopped Slifer from burning it to the ground with everyone inside. They have most of the Small Council and all of the Targaryens. Your father and the Stormlords have sent troops, in addition to our own, to hold the city. They are making haste to reach the city."
"Good. I want every remaining member of House Targaryen alive and well. Especially Lyanna and her son," he said, aware of how that sounded.
"Why?" Tyrion asked, his tone and voice blank.
He winked. "When Rickard Starks comes to negotiate, you will offer him his daughter and grandson in exchange for a stripe of land in the Neck."
"Land?" His brows furrowed. What need would he have of that swamp-ridden land?
"Yes, the border area with the Riverlands from one end to the other. We are going to open a canal there with the dragons," he said. This was the golden opportunity for him to fulfill his wish and own the greatest trade route in Westeros.
Tyrion sat down, looking at a map. He burst out laughing after a minute. "That would put the control of the sea trade right in our hands."
"Exactly. If Stark refuses, tell him to take it up with Slifer. In the meantime, tell everyone we are well and will return as soon as possible with the ships." He would talk to his family later since there was urgent business.
"As you wish. It sets our hearts at ease to see you well, my lord," the dwarf said, bowing.
He nodded, a smile on his face. "I'll see you all later."
"Thank you, Miss Merigold. You did well. What would you prefer as your reward?" He already knew she would most likely want gold for their journey to Kovir.
Her magic stopped, and she gave a gracious bow. "Two thousand crowns should do, my lord."
"Done. Say, while I am stranded here, I would like to learn more about what is happening in this continent. Would you care to double your reward?" he asked. He needed a cover for his knowledge. A sorceress like her was a prime source.
"Most certainly."
—
"Fucking hell," Gerald cursed, pulling the reins and stopping Roach. An actual dragon was flying over the city, circling like a bird of prey. The rumors were quick to reach Velen. Believing them was another matter.
He spurred the horse forward to the gate.
At least with the witch hunts and the general violence against mages banned, his search for Ciri would be easier. He would try to get an audience with the Dragonlord. Hopefully she had left some tracks, though they had trained her too well.
He could feel the tension in the air.
The blue dragon patrolling the city must be setting everyone on edge. His medallion glowed faintly, even though the beast was nowhere near him. If their rider were as dangerous as the rumors claimed, he had to tread carefully.
He stopped at the sound of fighting, past the Tretogor Gate and before the Hierarch's Square. Peeking into the alley, he saw a man in black armor butchering what appeared to be looters. Only one member remained standing. He was quick to fall on his knees, begging.
The man ignored it, quite literally cleaving the man in two equal parts with his greatswords.
He dismounted, approaching the man. He believed this was the three-headed hound of the Dragonlord. "Excuse me, I am looking for the Dragonlord."
"He is at the administrative center in the square," he said, tilting his head towards the Hierarch's Square.
"Is there any way I can get an audience with him?" Most rulers he knew wouldn't grant an audience unless they needed him for something.
"Tell the giant at the door why you want an audience. Lord Robert will decide whether to let you in or not."
"Thanks."
He rode for the square. Another dragon was sleeping near the administrative building, curled like a cat. He handed Roach to a stable and walked inside. Just like the city, the clerks inside were nervous. They stole quick glances at the stairs leading up and were all restless.
He walked up, standing before the door. A giant, ten or eleven feet tall, was sitting in front of the door, an equally long warhammer on his side. He was about to talk to him but stopped as the door opened.
"Triss?"
"Geralt?"
She looked at her former lover like a Nekkar caught alone.
"What are you doing here?" she asked. Her heart hammered in her chest, and she took shallow breaths.
"I am looking for Ciri. She was seen in Novigrad," he said. This situation was too awkward. Especially since they were in earshot of the newest power on the Continent.
Her eyes widened. That was big news, not as much as what lay behind the door, but still big. "Ciri?"
His face didn't show it, but he sighed inside. "Yeah. I am guessing you had no idea?"
"No. I've been hiding because of the witch hunts until yesterday," she said. If she had any inkling Ciri was in the city, she would have hidden her until Geralt arrived.
He looked at me. "Any chance he knows something?" It was a long shot since he was a complete unknown.
"Unlikely. But he has access to the archives. If she was seen and it was reported, there might be something."
He closed his eyes for a moment. "Thanks."
She turned to the giant in the corridor.
"Wun Weg, this is a good friend of mine. He wants an audience with Lord Robert. It is truly important," she said. Lord Robert struck her as the type to not care much about rules and etiquette. He
The giant grunted, parting the door open. "A friend of the sorceress wants to see you. She says it's important."
"Eh, let him in."
"Thanks," he said to the giant, walking inside. He got goosebumps, feeling his instincts scream.
"My lord," he bowed, a hand on his chest, clutching the shaking medallion.
"This is Geralt of Rivia. He is searching for his daughter," Triss introduced. Geralt turned sharply to her but did not refute it.
Robert raised his arms halfway, palms looking upward. "I barely know what's happening in the city. I don't think I can help with that."
Triss tilted her head down slightly. "It is possible she caused a commotion in the city. Could we see if there is anything relevant in the security records?"
Robert clicked his tongue. "What does your daughter look like?"
"Ashen hair, emerald green eyes, in her twenties."
Robert pursed his lips, looking at the ceiling. He snapped his fingers, pulling the left drawer and rummaging through it. He pulled out a single paper, holding it out.
"Female criminal, name unknown, distinct ashen white hair. Known for collaborating with the mages. Managed to escape being arrested," he read the first section.
They approached closer, and he handed over the paper.
Geralt read the next part. "Accomplice known as Dandelion, owner of Rosemary and Thyme. Arrested, currently locked in the dungeons of Temple Isle."
He closed his eyes, taking a deep breath, before writing something on a blank piece of paper. "Here, bring this order to the dungeons. Ra will take you there so they know it's from me."
"There really is no need. We can walk," Geralt said. He was not going to ride a dragon, which sounded even more dangerous than portals.
"If you are afraid of the heights, sure," he shrugged. Opening the window, he whistled. The golden dragon raised his head. The sunlight reflected from his scales, casting a gentle glow inside.
"Yes, Father?" he asked, yawning.
Geralt's jaw almost dropped.
"Follow those two to the island where the temple was. The guards are to set prisoners accused of the crimes in this list free."
"Do I have to carry them?" If he didn't know better, the dragon's tone sounded almost petulant.
"No. They are not fond of heights."
The dragon's eye turned on them. "Alright, hurry up, you two."
Geralt followed Triss out wordlessly, trying to make sense of what he had seen so far.
—
"Geralt, Triss, so good to see you two."
"Dandelion, what have you gotten yourself into?"
"All for a noble cause, I assure you. Though, how did you manage to free me?"
"It is a short but unbelievable story."
"Come, let me take you two to my new establishment. We can discuss it on the road."
"Though, where did the temple go?"
"The new ruler of the city threw it to the sea."
"Say what?"
—
Vizima
"My emperor," Vattier barged in, a quite unusual sight for the composed spymaster.
"What is it?" he asked, ignoring the blatant violation of protocol and respect because of the look of worry on Vattier's face.
"Novigrad has fallen. It has been confirmed that a man by the name of Robert Baratheon, who commands two dragons capable of speech, a giant, and a warrior said to be lightning incarnate, has taken the city in a matter of hours. In addition, he has banned the faith of the Eternal Fire and thrown the Great Temple of the Eternal Fire into the sea with his bare hands," he said in one breath, taking a moment to compose himself.
Emhyr blinked, his calm and impassive face scrunching. "What?" The words made sense to him individually, just not when they came together in this sentence.
"I know how it sounds, but it has been confirmed through multiple spies."
He opened his mouth and closed it, not sure where to begin asking. "Dragons?"
"Yes. One beast always patrols the city while the other rests. They can speak as well as a man and breathe fire like a volcano." More than one terrified man had come forward with the same information.
Once was a drunken rumor; thirteen times was the truth.
"Where is this dragon rider from?" A man who rode dragons wouldn't be something missed at all, especially by his empire. This man must be a foreigner.
"A city named Asgard, its location is unknown. We believe he is stranded here."
"Find me everything you can about this dragon rider. Everything," he said, taking a step forward.
"As you command, it will be done."
—
Westeros
King's Landing
Red Keep
"What do you want from us?" Lyanna asked, holding her son's head. They were suddenly summoned to the throne room by the dowager lady of House Baratheon. The guards, once loyal to House Targaryen, were cowering before the beasts circling the keep.
A noise left Rhaelle's throat, dry and humorless. "From you? Nothing. I want you to send a letter to your father. Tell him we are ready to ransom you and your son to him."
She held her son closer, turning her head slightly to the right, narrowing her eyes at Rhaelle. "Just like that?"
"Just like that."
She smiled, leaning on her arm, settling comfortably in her chair. "Robert has sent word. He wants a strip of land from the Neck in return for your and your son's safe return to the North."
Her shoulders slouched, the last vestige of the hope that Rhaegar's plot was worth the cost disappearing like tracks in Northern snows. "So he lives."
"You didn't think he would die that easily, did you?" she asked, laughing with a high-pitched sound.
"I will write the letter." She had no choice but to secure her son's safety now.
The Iron Throne, which was taken away to be scrapped, be damned.
"You are free to return to your room then. Or take the child for a walk," she said, dismissing her with a wave of her hand.
"Awfully generous of you."
"The boy has nothing to do with your husband's foolishness. He does not deserve to be locked up just because you are likely to escape."
"Neither did I." She turned around and left with those words. Rhaegar had told her nothing of what he had planned. She had thought her husband had given up on plots against Robert.
How little she knew.
The guards took her to the gardens, keeping a close eye on her. The most foul-tempered of Robert's infernal dragons was patrolling the keep constantly. Her heart quickened, remembering how he had barged into the keep, ready to slaughter everyone.
Until Rhaelle scolded the beast to stand down.
—
In the next chapter:
He kicked the chair away, feeling something hot, ugly stir inside him. "You imbeciles. You should have killed all the prisoners by now."
"The men were questioning them, my king," he excused.
"And?" Radovid pulled him up by the hair, a still, focused glint in his eyes. "Did they learn anything of value?"
"All the men are dead too," he grunted out, losing control of certain muscles in his body. Thankfully, Radovid was too furious to realize what it was.
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