Of Magic, Fire, Blood and Ice

20

Jon was no stranger to dreams but today they were not his usual ones where he flew above the clouds with his heart full of laughter , today his dreams were haunting him. He had grown up in Winterfell, hearing stories and legends of the North from Old Nan. The feeling of uneasiness in his dreams made him wary of the scene. All around him, as far as his eyes could see was a frozen wasteland. There was no vegetation except for a lone heart tree. It's branches devoid of any leaves, the red sap leaking from the angry face pooling in front of the tree. The sap seemed like blood it flowed on the ice covered ground like a scarlet snake.
For the  first time in his life Jon was terrified. This terrifying dream seemed strangely prophetic . On the ground were footsteps marked with the red sap of the weirwood tree . Despite his senses telling him to run away Jon followed the footsteps.
At the end he found a creature that could only exist in the hearts of the nightmares of the First Men.
It had to be the Night King, with pale white skin tinted with blue and  strange crown like structure on his head and petrifying blue eyes. The Night King stared at Jon lime he had expected his arrival, with a blink of an eye the monster had his hand wrapped around Jon’s wrist.
Blue eyes meeting Jon's grey.
.          .         .
.          .         .
.          .         .
.          .         .
Jon woke up in his chambers with a burning sensation on his wrist. Remembering the dream he was afraid to lift the shirt sleeve to check his wrist. Lifting he sleeve he saw marks in the shape of a hand but his skin did not have normal bruises but it seemed like he had frostbite.
He could feel the creeping cold that tried to extinguish the fire running through his blood. He had never been as scared as he was in that moment.
Trying to forget the nightmare Jon made his way to the training yard.
.          .          .
.          .          .
.          .          .
.          .          .
The preparations for war had begun. Based on the conversation Jon and Rayne had overheard it was only a  matter of time before all hell broke loose in Westeros. If the Essosi royal family wanted the war could be over before it even would have the chance to begin but this was not one that they could win by magic, considering the wariness Westerosi had for all things magic it would be prudent to win the war using their military prowess alone. The Targaryens had the full support of the North, Reach and Dorne and the majority of the Crownlands. Four of the seven kingdoms were waiting for the final call to be sent. Heads of Tywin and The Mountain were Dorne's for the taking while Robert deserved deaths at the hands of Rhaegar. It was a pity that Jon Arryn was dead, it was him along with Baratheon and Hoster Tully who planned and plotted to over throw the longest reigning house of Westeros. It was the ambitions of three men that led to deaths of Rhaegar's innocent children and thousands of men all over the Kingdom.
Elia along with her brothers had waited long enough to punish who deserved it the most. Tywin Lannister and Gregor Clegane were going to feel the sting of the Viper and their Spears.
.         .         .
.         .         .
.         .         .
.         .         .
.         .         .
.         .         .
Varys glided into the Small  Council chambers and waited for the other members to assemble. Stannis Baratheon was already present, the four faced brother of the King sat as the Master of Ships, shadowed by his trustworthy captain Davos Seaworth, also in attendance was Lord Stark in the capacity of Master of Law, he caught his eyes and nodded, knowing what the meeting would bring. The weasel Baelish sat on a chair with a smirk on his face.
The five men waited as a half drunk King entered the chamber followed by his goodfather and wife, Tywin accompanied by his brother Kevan followed by the bumbling Pycelle. 
‘So tell me, what needs my attention?’ slurred the Stag King.
Seeing the king’s drunk slurring Lords Stark and Baratheon curled their lips in distaste while the Lannisters were more capable of schooling their displeasure.
So on and on it droned till all the important matters were discussed, with each passing minute the alcoholic haze of the King lessened. Finally it was his turn.
‘So Lord Varys have your birds sung any new song worth sharing?’ quipped weasel Baelish.
With a smile he answers,
‘Yes my King, my Lords, I have some songs to share but I am afraid what that will lead to.’
‘Stop stalling and get with it! I have a very pleasurable evening booked with my favoured whore and wine ‘ said the King.
‘Yes your Grace, I have heard from many different little  birds about the return of dragons.’ Said Varys his last word nary a whisper.
With a single sentence the mood of the chamber turned, it went from mind numbing boredom to crackling with many different emotions.
Rage, Fear and Panic was recognisable enough to him and he spotted it on the faces of all the members present in the room.
The King's face turned purple with anger as he stood up front the chair and begun pacing.
‘Please elaborate the news you have.’ Demanded Tywin.
‘It is as I said people have spotted dragons. Huge dragons some say they eclipse the size of Balerion. News of a huge black dragon has reached me and I bring it to you but that is not the worst part of my news.’
‘SPIT IT OUT ENUCH!’ roared the King in anger.
‘On the top of the huge black dragon they say a silver haired man can be seen. He has also been seen in the Shadowlands of Asshai and near the area of the place formerly known as Slaver's Bay now renamed as Bay of Griffins, often in the company of someone how looks remarkably like Elia Martell and a silver haired girl who can only be Daenerys.’ Varys tells his tale and quiets down in his seat.
Robert Baratheon snarled as he moved around the room, his fists clenching and unclenching. His anger was palatable. He needed to blame someone and so he did.
His eyes zeroed on his goodfather and narrowed.
‘You were the one who threw the bodies of the Drgonspawn in front of my feet along with the Dornish Whore Queen, how is it that she escaped with her lizard son! Tell me how? Your brute had cleaved her in half after raping her and smashing the boy on the wall! How is her son and she alive? Tell me.’ He roared in the famed Baratheon fury.
The only indication that the Old Lion was angry was the flaring of his nostrils but he too was stumped as the body they had presented that day had to be of the Dornish Princess. How had they escaped? A meeting with the Mountain and Lorch was needed to find  the truth.
‘Send assassins or better yet send a ship full of assassins kill them before they consider to sail for Westeros.’ Queen Cersei in her famed wisdom tried to end all with swords, remarkably like her father that one.
Out of the corner of his eyes Varys saw Baelish roll his eyes at the Queen’s statement.
It was time to shake the world of the Baratheon King.
‘Your Grace, the silver haired man is not Aegon Targaryen, the babe died at the hands of Lord Tywin’s men so did the Princess Rhaenys, the man is older and the many letters from my birds and contacts confirm it is none other than Rhaegar Targaryen, your Grace.’
If Robert was angry before now he was downright frothing with rage.
To know that both the Crown Prince and Princess of the Targaryen Royal family was alive was a kick in the balls for Baratheon. He no longer had the claim of conquest to hold the throne. The throne he could only claim because of the Targaryen blood of his Grandmother. To know Rhaegar was alive and most probably gathering forces was a nightmare for the Stag King .
‘No, no, no..... I killed him. He was dead. His ribs broke from the blow of my hammer. He fell into the Trident. He was dead. He is dead.’
While the King of the Seven kingdoms was muttering in denial. The other members of the Small Council exchanged heavy looks, the Lannisters were furiously thinking of the damage that would come to their plans of having a King with Lannister blood on the throne and Maester Pycelle was sweating at the thought of dragons flying in the sky once again.
All the while Baelish was quiet as he re-evaluated his plans. No longer was the Mockingbird a grand player on the board, infact the game had changed. Alliances will be broken and forged, it was with three dragons and a handful of men Aegon the Conqueror had begun his the Targaryen rule and now it looked like it would be with dragons that Targaryens will take back what was theirs with Fire and Blood.