Chapter Text
Chapter 1
“You seem pensive tonight, Thoros?” Lord Beric Dondarrian spoke as he fell into the seat next to Thoros, ale in hand, it was both a statement and a question.
Thoros glanced back at his friend. Beric looked mildly concerned. Their other companions were gathered around their usual table in their tavern, drinking and jesting. Knights and other nobles seeking Beric’s approval or favour for some Westerosi reason or another.
But Beric was right, “You’re right my friend.” Much plagued Thoros tonight.
Thoros was sat next to the tavern’s fireplace, looking deep into the flames. Long had the Lord of Light been silent. His life in Westeros had been fun, wine and fighting, not exactly something he as a Red Priest should have been revelling in. Years had passed and the flames had shown him little, a not unexpected response for his lack of faith.
But that had changed tonight. The flames danced and played and seemed to scream at him. Vision upon vision came to him in the flames. Unspeakable shapes, a great squid or kraken flying over the city. Did the Greyjoys intend to attack King’s Landing? Isn’t one stupid doomed rebelion enough for Balon?
He saw things…creatures, tall and spindly, tentacled mouths that quivered in the flames and made him shiver.
And most importantly of all…Dragons. Great winged beasts spewing fire in their path. Battling the great kraken thing in the sky. The Chosen beasts of the Lord of Light, beasts of fire made flesh. The actual beasts had been gone for more than a century already, but the Targaryens were still alive. The Targaryens against the Ironborn? Why? And how? The Targaryens had more potent enemies than the Ironborn to deal with. Robert and the Lannisters were far more formidable. And the Ironborn were technically enemies of the Targaryens after Robert’s Rebellion, but still not the first target he would go after, if he was in their shoes.
What did it all mean? And why now? After so many years of silence from his Lord, why show him such convoluted and nonsensical things?
“Thoros?” asked Lord Beric again.
Thoros turned to him, his face grim, “Dark visions in the flames.”
Beric lowered his ale, his brow wrinkled in confusion, “I thought you didn’t see things in the flames anymore?”
Thoros stated ominously, “Before tonight, I didn’t…”
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The day started early, just like any other. The smallfolk rose from their beds early, preparing for work. Merchants started preparing their stores for customers and Blacksmith apprentices started igniting their masters’ forges. Goldcloaks went about their duties, both legal and otherwise, many patrolling the city, while others stood guard at important points in King’s Landing.
Most nobles still remained abed, recovering from the libations of the previous night. The notable exceptions were squires and some knights that had gathered to train, in the Red Keep and elsewhere in the capital. Robert Baratheon snored loudly as Ser Barristan attentively guarded his door. Other notables of the Small Council either slept or were just starting their day.
Clouds were gathered above King’s Landing, a portent of rain for later on in the day, overcasting the city. One nameless man in a sea of working Smallfolk stopped, lowering the heavy sack he had been carrying. He looked up at the sky, as he wiped sweat from his brow.
“For f*ck’s sake Will, come on, we don’t have any bloody time to waste,” his older brother called out to him in annoyance, “Move, you lazy sh*t, we’ve still got five more loads to shift,” his brother huffed, not even stopping as he berated Will.
Will scowled and glared at his brother, “I’ll move when I’m damn ready,” he shot back. He turned back to the sky, the clouds were heavy today and filled with shapes. He frowned for a moment, he could see movement, a flock of birds maybe…but it looked a little strange.
He stared for a moment longer, and in that moment his entire world shattered.
Emerging from the clouds was a giant tentacle, and it wasn’t alone. The number multiplied, all wriggling ominously in the blue sky, the impossible thing growing silently with every passing second. The tentacles continued to grow, a giant body appearing from behind them.
“Will!” screamed his brother, “I ain’t telling you again! f*cking Move!”
Will paid him no heed, as stared at the silent monster moving out of the clouds. Instead he raised a shaking hand and pointed in silent terror at the thing.
“Brother, what the f*ck are you poi-” His brother stopped midword. Will knew why. The monstrosity in the clouds continued to grow in size as it soared through the morning sky.
The bells of the Sept of Baelor were ringing now, as screams and pandemonium started to spread through all of King’s Landing.
The largest of the tentacles uncoiled getting closer and closer to the bell towers of the Sept, it coiled around one and grasped it. And in an instant the tower crumbled in its grasp, stone shattering and falling.
The screaming around Will intensified and people started to run.
His load forgotten, he turned, but his brother was already running, Will joined him.
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Robert Baratheon, King of the Andals, the Rhoynar, and the First Men was not used to being roughly roused from his sleep. Someone was shaking him, trying to wake him.
He opened one eye, his Kingsguard Ser Arys Oakheart, the young Reachman, was by his bed, shaking him roughly. He was the little sh*t that was rousing him so gods damn early in the morning. The boy better have a damn good reason for this.
“What?” Robert growled irritably, before closing his eye again, preparing to go back to sleep.
“Your Grace, we’re under attack!” Ser Arys reported tersely, a tone of panic in his voice.
Robert opened both his eyes and really looked at Arys. The youngest of his Kingsguard was young, but even Robert knew he would never jest about something like this.
“What?” he repeated in disbelief, which f*cker would dare to attack them? The f*cking Dragons? The Dornish? Was Greyjoy being an idiot again?
As his dulled senses started to sharpen, he could now hear the bells of the Great Sept. Robert didn’t wait for Arys to answer, he threw his covers aside and jumped out of bed, causing Arys to backpedal quickly to avoid crashing into his king.
“Who the f*ck is it?!” Robert roared, “How many of them?” His heart was beating faster and harder, his rage rising. Whoever it was, he was going to crush them with his warhammer.
Arys shook his head, “It’s…it’s…” he began stumbling over his words, unable to articulate.
“You should see for yourself, your Grace,” Ser Mandon Moore interrupted, concern and disbelief in his voice. Two things that were normally absent form that cold fish’s normally dead voice.
Robert turned and saw Moore was standing in the doorway of his balcony, sword drawn and looking back and forth between Robert and out to the balcony.
Robert frowned and marched past Arys to the balcony. He could hear the distant screams of his people now, he frowned, were the invaders already in the city?
“Don’t go out there, your Grace,” Moore warned, a hand held out stopping the King at the threshold of the balcony.
Robert sneered and pushed past Moore’s hand. He looked out onto the city and immediately found himself in a nightmare. A giant flying Kraken floated over King’s Landing. Tentacles that stretched down into the city,
Robert closed his eyes and rubbed at them for a long moment and then opened them again. The flying Kraken remained terrorising his city, even as he watched, one of the tentacles came crashing down on a building, crushing it and sending dust blooming into the air.
Robert stood there for longer than he expected. Freezing in battle had never been something that he had done in his life. But…never in his life had he imagined the scene now playing out in front of him. Serwyn of the Mirror Shield had slain the great dragon Urrax, but Robert doubted that Urrax had been a fraction of the size of this Kraken monstrosity.
“Ser Barristan is readying the defences of the Red Keep. At least what defences we think will work against…that thing,” Arys reported anxiously, but Robert was barely paying attention. The impossibility of the scene in front of him was almost too much for him.
Robert nodded, shaking himself out of his shock.
“Get my armour!” he roared. Whatever came next he would meet this enemy in steel with his warhammer in hand.
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Annoyance and rage quarrelled in his gut. He’d had to settle for chainmail, his plate armour hadn’t fit him. He stomped along the battlements, with Moore and Arys trailing behind him, warhammer in hand.
Guardsmen stood attention, men in Baratheon gold and black, Lannister Redcloaks and smattering of other colours from other Nobles that were in the Red Keep stood at attention along the Battlements, all ready to defend the Red Keep and fulfil their oaths to the Iron Throne.
It was inspirational and something that boys always dreamed of seeing and being a part of…and it was all utterly worthless in the face of this monster attacking King’s Landing.
Ser Barristan Selmy was standing and shouting out orders to everyone around him, he saw Robert approaching and met him halfway, concern and a determined expression on his face, “Your Grace, I’ve stationed archers along the walls,” he shook his head, an expression of helpless coming to his face, “I…I don’t know what else we can do, we can’t use catapults nor ballista without risking the city and our people.”
Robert nodded and growled, his own frustration very much at the forefront of his thoughts, “Good, whatever comes we’re going to be prepared for these f*ckers.”
Ser Barristan nodded, though he looked unconvinced despite Robert’s words.
Robert stepped past him, stepping up to the edge of the battlements gazing up the Kraken destroying the city. Violence at the foremost of his thoughts, more than anything he wanted to tear the tentacles off this Kraken.
He did not know how long he stood there just watching.
Suddenly, the sky seemed to ripple and then the ripple expanded into whorling blue black pool, behind him he heard screams and intakes of voice, the murmuring uncertainty of a multitude of voices.
And then he felt the blood draining from him, fear he had never felt in life rising to heights far beyond anything he had felt, even more than the day he’d watched his parents die.
Three red Dragons flew through the whorling hole in the sky.
They flew towards the flying Kraken and the biggest of them roared, the sound reverberating across King’s Landing.
He saw death coming for them all…and his hope was extinguished like a flame in a storm.
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Chaos reigned in the city as people ran around screaming of the end of the world. And in Thoros’s mind, they weren’t wrong. The Kraken from his visions hovered over King’s Landing, tentacles stretching down into the city, and now it battled Dragons in the skies over King’s Landing.
He never imagined that the Red God could be so literal in his visions.
He didn’t know what R'hllor wanted from him in this. What could a single man do in this situation? Or was it just a warning to protect himself?
As he watched one of the dragons seemed to land on the Kraken, it bit into a tentacle and ripped it off, jerking it’s head and throwing the tentacle to the side before flying off. The severed tentacle fell to the ground, the weight causing the ground to shake under Thoros. It had crushed buildings and people indiscriminately. It’s massive weight, now immovable, and blocking the way through the streets.
The Dragons were flying around the Kraken, breathing fire at it, and the Kraken was starting to move across the city. As he watched, he saw a tentacle strike one of the dragons, slapping it out of the sky, and knocking it’s rider off.
That’s one down, Thoros thought, but he was quickly proven wrong.
The dragon recovered quickly, but the rider was falling through the air, arms and legs outstretched, as the ground grew nearer, he watched in disbelief as the riderless dragon swooped under the falling rider and scooped him up out of the air. A moment later they were back attacking the Kraken.
Thoros didn’t know what the future held, even with everything that the Lord of Light was revealing to him now, but he didn’t think any of this bode well for the future.
Especially for the Lannisters and the Baratheons…
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Varys watched all from a hidden window in a dark corner of the Red Keep in horror. His hatred of magic brought to bear impotently against the monster in the sky above King’s Landing. He had no words to say as he mentally watched all his plans bruning to ash in front of his mind’s eye.
He had wanted chaos to engulf the Seven Kingdoms, but not like this!
Dragon riding Targaryens was not something he had planned for. Coming to the rescue of King’s Landing from a flying Kraken? Who could plan for such an eventuality? Certainly not him, Varys admitted in annoyance and fear.
More importantly, who were they? Where had they been hiding? And how did they command such magics? Where had they been hiding not one, but three grown and well trained Dragons?!
The Targaryens that he knew of had no magic, and were still too weak to challenge Robert for the Iron Throne. Certainly not, arrogant Viserys and timid Daenerys. And his hidden King was still too young for such things.
He stood and watched, there was nothing else he could but start changing all of his plans even as fear continued to gnaw at him. Despite his hiding spot, there was no guarantee that he or anyone else would survive this day…
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Chaos was a Ladder…but not like this.
Varys was not the only powerful man in King’s Landing contemplating survival. Petyr Baelish had been roused roughly from bed by his guards with insane stories. They hadn’t relented in the face of his anger. He’d risen cursing, his ire visible to men he’d thought reasonable. Both his curses and ire had died the moment he’d looked out a window and seen the monster floating over the city.
A giant Kraken flying over the city, tentacles undulating around it and stretching down above the streets of King’s Landing. Every feeling of anger and annoyance had died completely in that moment. He continued to watch mutely as tentacles reached into the street.
And then people started disappearing…
He hadn’t waited to see anything else, every survival instinct he had, had started to scream for him to run. And he had, he’d run from the window, down into the depths of the whor*house. There was a cellar here, he wasted no words to his guards or anyone else and ran. He sealed himself inside, uncaring of the shouts of his guards and others now coming from outside. He wasn’t alone in the cellar, several of his servants and whor*s were already here, but he didn’t care now. They’d been smart enough to recognise the dangers immediately, he could use that later.
He paused, assuming there was a later…
He hid in a dark spot, shivering in fear, in the cellar of his whor*house, shaken to his very core, no, monsters were not something he had planned for. Monsters did not exist- not since the death of the last dragon.
He sat and listened to the screams that came from outside. Not since he was a boy had he felt such fear as he did now.
What did a future with monsters in the mix entail now?
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Jaime Lannister was asleep, that had to be the answer. This was all some absurd nightmare, because dragons were dead, and giant flying krakens didn’t exist. Not in any tale he’d ever heard of. Or Tyrion had heard of. This was something he felt Tyrion would have shared with him, if it existed, due to the sheer absurdity of it.
The bells of the Sept of Baelor were silent now. The bell towers were shattered early on by the Kraken. In armour and unnerved, Jaime prowled the battlements of the Red Keep, seeing to defences that were wholly unsuited to deal with these new threats.
If that wasn’t enough, the battlements of the Red Keep were packed. The Guardsmens and Knights stood at the ready, tense and in many cases terrified. In a fit of insanity, they’d been joined by a number of Nobles, whose curiosity was stronger than their common sense.
They came just to be able to say they’d laid eyes on a flying Kraken.
f*cking idiots…Jaime thought in dersion.
Familiar golden hair appeared in the edge of his vision, he turned his head and saw Cersei standing on the battlements with Ser Meryn at her back. She was staring up at the distant Kraken.
He scowled and cursed under his breath, moving quickly towards his idiotic sister. Cersei and a number of nobles were gathered along the battlements of the Red Keep, all drawn out of their safe hiding places to see the fantastical creatures that were attacking King’s Landing.
“What the hell are you doing here?!” Jaime demanded roughly, “Get back inside! It’s dangerous here!”
Cersei turned to him and glared, “Then you’re coming with me, Jaime.”
Jaime sighed in annoyance, “My duty is out here, Cersei.”
Cersei scowled back, “I am your Queen, your duty is to me. You need to return with me. It’s not safe here.”
Jaime rolled his eyes, “And yet here you are.”
Cersei narrowed her eyes, but didn’t add anything.
They glared at each other, but Jaime didn’t let their standoff continue. He grabbed her arm and started dragging her away from the battlements.
“Ser Meryn, take my sister back into the Maidenvault,” Jaime ordered angrily.
Cersei tried to wrestle her arm out of Jaime’s grip, her emerald eyes flashing with anger, “I will not go, Jaime- not without you.” She dragged them to a halt.
“Ser Jaime!” came Ser Meryn’s suddenly panicked voice.
Jaime jerked his head towards the odious knight, Ser Meryn was staring up at the sky, his face was pale and getting paler with every moment that passed.
Jaime looked back towards the Kraken.
It was moving again, he saw now, it was fleeing from the dragons now, he felt a momentary flicker of relief, if the Kraken left, they’d only have the dragons to deal with, a part of him imagined hysterically. Another part of him recognised despondent, that three dragons were still much more than enough to crush them all.
His moment of false relief was miniscule and turned to abject horror as he realised the Kraken was now fleeing towards the Red Keep.
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Grandmaester Pycelle had run to the Rookery, parchments in hands. Others would have noticed that he was not acting like a man of his age and supposed frailty should be. Pycelle’s facade of age was momentarily shed, he hadn’t cared who saw him or noticed his speed. It was more important that he got word out to the Seven Kingdoms of the attack.
All the messages proclaimed the same thing; King’s Landing under attack. Send Help.
He went into no details, what details would be believed if he had added them? Flying Krakens? Dragons? No one would believe a message that mentioned any of that.
He released the Raven to Casterly Rock first, Lord Tywin’s message was the only one that was slightly different. He’d added a small symbol to it, one that Lord Tywin would understand came directly from him. A code that meant, in this context, would suggest that the city was potentially already lost…along with everyone in it.
He released another raven, before seeing a shadow pass outside the far window.
His heart started beating erratically as he turned and saw a tentacle far too close for his comfort. It moved towards the window with increasing speed. He dropped the raven that was in his hands and tried to flee…but it was already too late.
The tentacle impacted the window and the rookery tower, crushing stone under its weight. The tower of the Rookery crumbled around him as the tentacle slashed through the tower like a blade through flesh.
A second giant blow caused the ground to heave under his feet and he fell down as the floor collapsed underneath him. He had a panicked moment to ponder his coming demise before falling masonry slammed into his head.
Insensate, he never felt the impact of hitting the ground or the rest of the tower as it came crashing down on him.
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The Kraken was so damn close now and it was even more terrifying up close, the Dragons equally so. They roared and breathed fire at the Kraken, but it didn’t catch fire and they kept twisting in the air to avoid the tentacles of the Kraken.
The Kraken was moving almost uncaring of the dragons’ attacks, even as he watched, one tentacle crashed through the rookery tower on the Red Keep and then a second one finished it off. Stones and mortar were falling everywhere. Men scattered to avoid the falling masonry…and not everyone was successful.
Jaime had frozen for a moment, but he didn’t need any more prompting now. He started dragging Cersei along, and this time there was no resistance from her.
The damn thing was passing over them now, blocking out the sun and casting shadows everywhere. Fear gripped all, as shouts and screams reverberated around the Red Keep. He could hear the twang of bows as bowmen fired impotently up at the Kraken and the dragons.
Smaller tentacles reached out to the battlements and Jaime drew his sword without stopping; he continued to flee with Cersei, pushing roughly past anyone that was stupid enough to get in his way. They just had to get the stairs and then into the Red Keep.
He cast a look back, the smaller tentacles had reached the battlements now.
What he saw next chilled the depths of his soul.
The idiot Meryn Trant hadn’t followed them and seemed frozen where he stood. A tentacle approached him and then touched him. The next moment he exploded into a small shower of ashes. In the instant after that, the ashes faded out of existence as if they had never existed in the first place.
Terror overrode the crowd as the nobles stampeded and fled. Jaime shared their terror, that was not a way he wished to die. No grand battle, no last stand, just a single whimper and then death.
More people started disappearing, a pure pandemonium broke out on the battlements.
One of the cursed tentacles reached out and Jaime didn’t even hesitate, he pushed Cersei out of the way. His sword slicing out at the approaching tentacle. The tentacle recoiled away as black blood spurted from the wound. Jaime grabbed Cersei again, ignoring her cries of alarm as he continued dragging her away to safety. Or someplace that was safer. Deep down, he didn’t think any place was truly safe now. Not between the dragons and this Kraken monstrosity.
He rushed her off the battlements, ignoring all others that got in his way, and her as she tried to speak, but his eyes never went to her, always on the lookout for more of the cursed tentacles.
He cursed loudly as he saw several tentacles uncoil and fly towards their area of the battlements. He picked up the pace, they were near the steps down to the courtyard now, from there it was a short distance to the inside of the castle. If they could get inside, they’d be safer. But they had to slow down taking the steps.
Another tentacle neared them and his sword danced around them in a dance of defence, slashing as it approached them, Two more turned towards him in response. They moved quickly, one turned away from him and touched a Redcloak. Jaime watched with a cold sweat as the Redcloak disappeared, one second there and the next nothing, leaving nothing behind, not even a Seven damned rotting corpse.
It took him a split second to realise his situation.
He saw the tentacle that was coming for him, passing through where the doomed Redcloak had stood, but it was too late, he neither had the time to move or a place to twist out of it’s path. He couldn’t save himself and Cersei at the same time. He pushed Cersei roughly off the last few steps and tried to twist his blade around in a last ditch effort he knew was doomed to failure.
“Jaime!” Cersei screamed loudly, her face contorted into several emotions, fear being the foremost among them, as she fell back away from him.
He felt a light touch on his chest..and then suddenly his world shifted. His stomach lurching back and forth like being on a ship in a storm, only infinitely worse. His head was spinning worse than anything he had ever experienced before. And then the world intensified for a moment, before everything went black.
