Forsaken Bloodlines {HP x GOT}

Chapter 5.13: Establishing the New Dynamic

The air in Old Valyria was thick with ash and heat, the remnants of a once-great empire lingering like ghosts. Lyanna led the way across jagged terrain, her senses alert to the faint echoes of a world destroyed by hubris. Behind her, Melisandre walked in measured steps, her face betraying nothing, while Tom Riddle followed reluctantly, his expression shifting between irritation and contemplation.

Lyanna's grip on her wand tightened as she turned to face them both.

"Let's get one thing clear," she said coldly, her voice cutting through the heavy silence. "I'm the one in charge here. Neither of you has the power you once had. Melisandre, your magic is weaker here, and Tom—" she paused, her eyes narrowing, "you're practically a Muggle in this world."

Tom stiffened at the word, his lips curling into a faint sneer. "A charming reminder, Lyanna. Truly."

Lyanna ignored his sarcasm and stepped closer. "Try anything—either of you—and I'll end this before you can even blink." She leveled her wand at them to make her point. "Understood?"

Melisandre inclined her head slightly. "You are right to be cautious. But do not mistake my intentions, child. I still believe you are the key to this world's salvation."

Lyanna snorted. "Funny. You didn't seem to think that when you were plotting to steal my power."

Melisandre said nothing, and Tom looked between the two women with an air of mild amusement.
"Shall we dispense with the dramatics and focus on the immediate issue?" he drawled. "Namely, where we are and how to leave."

Lyanna turned sharply on her heel and began walking again, forcing them to follow. "This isn't just any random wasteland," she said. "We're in Old Valyria."

Melisandre's gaze darted around, her expression unreadable. "The Doom's shadow still lingers here. We should tread carefully. The beasts that dwell in these ruins are not to be underestimated."

Tom raised an eyebrow. "Beasts?"

"Monsters," Lyanna clarified, her tone clipped. "And we're not leaving until we find what we came for."

"And what, pray tell, is that?" Tom asked, his curiosity piqued despite himself.

"Drogon," Lyanna said simply.

Melisandre stopped in her tracks, her eyes narrowing. "The dragon? He would not still be here after all this time."

Lyanna shrugged. "Maybe he's not. But Drogon brought Daenerys' body back to Old Valyria. If there's any chance he's still guarding her, we need to find him. If we're going to survive, a dragon is our best bet."

Tom laughed softly, the sound bitter. "Brilliant. Seek out a dragon in a desolate land filled with monsters. Truly, you have a gift for optimism."

"Do you have a better idea?" Lyanna snapped.

For once, Tom had no retort.

As they ventured deeper into the ruins, the air grew hotter, the ground beneath their feet shifting between scorched rock and jagged obsidian. The ruins of Old Valyria loomed around them, skeletal remains of buildings that once housed the most powerful civilization in history.

Lyanna walked ahead, her senses sharp, every sound and movement in the shadows putting her on edge. Melisandre followed silently, her eyes scanning the horizon with unease, while Tom struggled to maintain his composure in the oppressive environment.

"How do you know so much about this place?" Tom asked suddenly, breaking the silence.

Lyanna didn't turn around. "I read."