Illusiveone
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52: The Son of Ice and Fire, Respite
🕑 Added 2024-08-08 20:06:39 +0000 UTCMaekar
The Sanctuary
Maekar sat up from the bed, his head throbbing.
For the past few months, he had been practicing his ability of skinchanging, immersing his consciousness into the bodies of animals. The process was difficult, demanding intense concentration and leaving him with increasingly severe headaches. His latest adventure had been as a raven, flying over the Tyrell camp to eavesdrop on their conversations. Each time he returned to his own body, it felt like tearing himself apart and then stitching back together, but he was getting better, more proficient with each attempt.
He got off the bed, the world spinning slightly, he drank some water to steady himself. The cool liquid offered a brief respite from the pounding in his skull. With a deep breath, he walked out to the balcony, seeking the tranquility of the outdoors.
He was greeted with the sight of a small, serene lake, its surface shimmering under the pale moonlight. The forest around it was dense, the trees tall and imposing, their leaves rustling softly in the night breeze. The area was quiet, save for the occasional hoot of an owl or the distant call of a nocturnal creature.
The hunting cottage he occupied, formerly owned by Hayford, had been seized and claimed for himself. He had made several improvements to the rustic dwelling, enhancing its security and comfort. It now served as a secluded retreat where he could practice his new ability away from prying eyes.
"My prince," he heard Basil's voice from behind him.
He turned to see the short, worried man approaching. Basil's loyalty was unwavering, and his concern was something Maekar deeply appreciated.
"The headaches are getting more painful," he admitted, rubbing his temples.
"Perhaps you should stop, my prince. This is unnatural. Your body is telling you it's dangerous," Basil said, his voice filled with worry.
He sighed, knowing Basil meant well. "I understand your concern, Basil, but you don't realize how useful this ability is. I spied on the Tyrells today and learned so much. This could make me unstoppable when it comes to gathering intelligence."
"But it could affect your—" Basil began, his voice trailing off with concern.
"It's just headaches, Basil," he said, waving off the man's concerns. "I've dealt with worse. This ability gives us an edge. Think of the advantages we could have. Knowing our enemies' moves before they make them, understanding their strategies, and anticipating their actions. Knowledge is power, Basil."
Basil still looked uneasy. "I just worry for you, my prince. This power, it's... dangerous. The old tales speak of skinchangers losing themselves, becoming more beast than man."
Maekar shook his head, trying to dispel Basil's fears. "I won't let that happen. I'm in control.
As they talked, Ghost walked onto the balcony, his massive form casting a shadow even in the dim light. The direwolf had grown significantly, now significantly larger than a normal wolf. His fur was thick and white, and his red eyes gleamed with an intelligent light.
"Hey boy, how was your hunt?" he asked, reaching out to pet the large direwolf. Ghost nuzzled against his hand, his tail wagging slightly. The bond between them was strong, and he found a rare sense of peace in Ghost's presence. The direwolf licked his hand, his warm breath contrasting with the cool night air.
‘One day,’ he thought, he wished to skinchange into Ghost as well. Warging would be the correct term for that. But he wanted to only do it when he was sure he had a firm grasp on the ability. Ghost's mind was powerful and he needed to be completely prepared.
"Oh, I forgot why I was here, my prince. The package from the North has arrived," Basil said, interrupting his thoughts.
"Here now?" he asked, turning to face Basil.
"You did order me to bring it to you when it arrived. I had it brought here straight from the harbor," Basil said, puffing his chest up with pride.
Maekar laughed internally. Basil was very competent, sometimes too competent. "Well, have it brought to my chambers," he ordered.
"Yes, my prince," Basil said, bowing before leaving the balcony.
He watched him go, then turned back to Ghost. "Come on, boy," he said, patting the direwolf's side. He walked back into the cottage, Ghost following closely behind, his large paws making almost no sound on the wooden floor.
He walked into his chambers, illuminated the soft glow of candlelight and lanterns. Dominating one corner was his Valyrian steel armor of dark black metal inscribed with intricate runes. The armor bore the sigils of both House Targaryen and House Stark. The runes glinted in the light, giving the armor an almost mystical aura. Only the Sand Snakes and a few of his trusted men knew of the armor's existence. He had used it to kill Harte months ago, he planned to use it in the tourney.
Ghost found a comfortable place to lay down by the fire.
His gaze turned to the desk where several letters were laid, meticulously organized. One particularly caught his eye, detailing the reforms he had enacted to reform the City Watch.
Some reforms he implemented were simple.
Regular Rotations: No officer can remain in the same position or district for more than a year. This prevents any single officer from accumulating too much power or forming corrupt alliances.
Whistleblower Protection: Establish a secure and anonymous way for members of the City Watch and the public to report corruption or misconduct without fear of retribution.
Enhanced Training: Introduce a rigorous training program focusing on ethics, integrity, and loyalty to the Crown.
Community Policing: Encourage the City Watch to build strong relationships with the communities they serve. Officers are to be involved in local events and work closely with community leaders to address concerns and foster trust.
Merit-Based Promotions: All promotions within the City Watch are to be based solely on merit and performance. A panel of senior, incorruptible officers will oversee the promotion process to ensure fairness.
These were only some of the reforms he had already implemented, it would take some years to take hold.
He was both glad and a bit reluctant to come to this cabin for a few days. Glad because he needed some time to practice skinchanging and get some rest from the hectic few weeks he had endured. Reluctant because Daenerys had arrived two weeks ago.
Daenerys and Uncle Viserys had come back after years away, and it was the first time in a long while that the entire Targaryen family was together in one place. Viserys was a great person to be around . Viserys had pulled him a long embrace the moment they met, and he was really glad that he was not an asshole like in the books.
Daenerys, well, they had been sending letters to each other for months. He had grown fond of her. Really fond. When he first saw her, he was attracted to her otherworldly beauty, lustful as he felt for any other beautiful woman. But now as they got to know each other through letters he felt something more, something he had not felt for anyone since he came here to this world, not even Dacey.
He knew Daenerys was ill-equipped to deal with the political situation the court was in now. She was too sheltered. They had only spent limited time together since her arrival, as he was too busy with the City Watch, something he wished to rectify. Thankfully, Rhaenys had taken her under her wing, so he knew she would be fine. Though Rhaenys would have her hands full with Margeary Tyrell if what he heard through the raven was true.
The one thing that worried him was that Melisandre of all people was with them. Apparently Viserys had befriended her in Essos and had come with him. But that was a matter for another day.
Thinking about Rhaenys brought memories of their last conversation to his mind, where he had told her what he planned to do and basically proposed marriage to her. Now, thinking about it, he felt he might have rushed it and perhaps jeopardized his entire plans. She had been silent—too silent. He knew she had not told Arianne yet, as the Princess of Dorne continued her open flirting with him, even trying to sneak into his chambers once.
It wasn't that he didn't want her. Oh, he did. Arianne always wore revealing clothing that showed off her large tits and ass, each outfit more daring than the last around him. But she wanted more, he had noticed her subtle remarks when talking. If it was just sex, he wouldn't have minded, but he wanted the Iron Throne, not a downgrade to being the prince consort of Dorne.
He heard Basil enter the room again, this time followed by two men carrying large chests. They placed the chests on the floor, then another man followed with a pot.
"What is that?" he asked.
"Oh, it looks like a weirwood sapling, my prince," Basil said.
"I see," he replied, inspecting the sapling.
In the chests were some valuables he had left back at Meakarton. Nothing important, but he wished for them to be here for now.
Basil was about to leave when Maekar stopped him. "Basil, any word on the spy cell that disappeared in the Red Keep?" he asked.
"No, my prince. I had hoped some word would be sent with the men that just arrived, but nothing so far. It truly is strange—our spies have never been caught," Basil said, a hint of worry in his voice.
"So you believe they are caught then?" he asked.
"Well, my prince, what else would it be?" Basil replied.
"Then someone is making moves against us. Calculated ones," he said, frowning.
"Who?" Basil asked.
"That we must find out. It will only increase with the Tyrells arriving. They have already decided I am an enemy. We will need to secure my position in court before the tourney, before the entire realm arrives. That, Basil, is when the true games begin," he said.
Basil nodded, bowing as he left the room.
He sat down on the bed and opened the first chest. There was a pile of letters inside, and his eyes were drawn to the one from Arya. He took it and began to read. It was the same thing she always wrote about how she missed him and could not wait to see him when she comes to the capital complaining about aunt Ashara being too strict on her but the last part caught my attention
…Something strange happened recently. A raven came to Greycliffe. It was carrying a weirwood sapling, of all things.. It was almost as if it was meant for me to find. I thought it would be nice for you to have a part of the North with you, so I'm sending it along with my letter….
‘So that is where it is from’ he thought looking at the pot with the weirwood sapling.
He set down the letter, a smile playing on his lips. He then rummaged through the chest again and to his surprise he found something he had forgotten existed. He picked up a ring—the very same ring that Uncle Viserys had gifted him a year ago. Viserys had mentioned that a priestess of R'hllor had given it to him and had even asked about it when they talked a few days ago.
The ring gave off an eerie feeling, its red ruby seemingly glowing with an inner light. He put the ring on the table and stood up. He was too tired from skinchanging. The effort had drained him. He took the potted weirwood sapling and placed it by his bed before lying down.
The bed was inviting, and he sank into it, feeling the weight of his exhaustion.As he closed his eyes, he could still feel the lingering effects of the skinchanging, a dull throb in his temples. He took a deep breath, trying to relax and let the darkness take him.
.
.
.
"The fuck," Maekar muttered as he looked around. He found himself in a green landscape with weirwood trees all around, their pale white trunks and red leaves creating an eerie yet beautiful scene. The crimson eyes of the weirwoods seemed to watch him sending a shiver down his spine.
Was he dreaming again?
He examined himself, noting he was solid and not viewing through a dragon's eyes this time. The air was crisp, and the forest seemed alive.
"You are as large as him," a voice came from behind him.
Maekar quickly turned around to see an old man with a damaged eye, pale skin, and deeply wrinkled features. The man was wearing a black robe that stood out in the green landscape.
"Large as who?" Maekar asked, his eyes narrowing.
"Your namesake, my nephew, the son of the brother I chose," the man said.
Maekar's eyes widened in realization. "Bloodraven," he murmured.
"Yes, I have been called that," Bloodraven said, smiling slightly.
"How?" Maekar asked, still trying to process the surreal encounter.
"You and I are not so different. The blood of both old Valyria and the First Men flows through us. Yours is more potent than mine," Bloodraven explained.
"What do you want?" Maekar asked, unsure if he could trust the figure before him.
"I wish to help you, my king,"
.
.
Comments
Illusiveone
I have thought of something similar to what you said i will post it in the chat
Arcturus
Give him back magical sword, you old tree lover!!! And work as monitoring station 24/7 against Maekar's enemies By the way, does MC has personal banner? If no, he could take the same as Brynden had. White one head dragon with red eyes(compliment to Ghost and Old gods). It would be cool reference and signal to everyone that big boss in capital! Nice chapter as always, hope to see new updates soon!😁👍
