The Northern Dragon

CH 41: SLAY THE MASTERS (1/2)

I finally got to finish this chapter🥲

😭I planned on getting it done for New Year's but I ended up spending the rest of my break frigging sick.

Just as a reminder, the plotline from this season on starts a big deviation from the original storyline. Enjoy!

Tywin Lannister walked across a dark room. The room had no ventilation, so the heat accumulated inside, making one sweat. Tywin wasn't bothered by it and went directly toward a table where an absurdly large sword laid encased by a scabbard made of a wolf pelt.

Tywin removed the exceedingly long and wide sword from its sheathe and gave it to an older man whose features appeared foreign, nothing like a Westerosi's.

The older man, with his assistant's help, hammered the sword, removing the blade from its hilt. The blade was heated until it melted. The melted steel was poured on a casting mold that had two blades connected at the top. The left blade was much longer than the right, but still, their size was nothing in comparison to the original sword.

Tywin watched as the melted steel filled the molds and returned to the table where the original sword's scabbard lay. Tywin held the wolf pelt in both hands and stepped toward the burning fireplace. He threw the wolf pelt in, watching it burn in the flames.

The orange and yellow flames flickered, slowly transforming into a setting sun, disappearing in the waters to the west of Slaver's Bay. The orange and yellow mixed, falling on the scarlet red silks worn by Rhaenys.

Her silver locks brushed over her face as she walked out, standing on the tallest balcony of one of the center pyramids. A hand pressed against her stomach while the other laid on the railing, serving as support for her to lean against something.

A jumble of emotions flashed through her eyes, but her expression remained mostly frozen except for the continuous need to take short breaths.

Upon receiving the news, Rhaenys just wanted to be alone, away from everybody. Once again... her family had been killed once again. Most of them were now gone.

She so badly wished she could storm into King's Landing today and kill every single one of the people responsible. To go to the Twins and burn that damn fortress to the ground. To do to the Boltons what they loved doing to their prisoners. It was only the last shred of rationality and conscience that diverted her from those dangerous thoughts.

It was already too late. She needed to finish what she started here and then go home before some of her allies tucked their tails between their legs or provoked trouble.

She had much to do. She couldn't think about this now. Rhaenys shut her reddened eyes tight and pressed her lips together, nearly biting them so that the physical pain would distract her mind, to keep her from thinking about what was done to them.

Her indigo eyes snapped open and she turned around, her countenance practically frozen by ice while her eyes burned with fire. "Quite the time you picked to come visit."

Quaithe stepped away from the shadows in the corner and let the remaining sunlight fall on her mask. "I just heard. I am sorry for your loss."

"Just heard? Or picked today on purpose?"

"I can't see everything occurring in the world, pay attention to everything that happens in every single place. Only a God would be capable of that." Quaithe's voice remained steady even as she tried to explain to Rhaenys. "I know you are angry, but I am not your enemy."