Golden Tyrant (Game of thrones/Asoiaf)

Should my MC acquire a dragon?

I was considering one dragon from other series like King Ghidorah, Fatalis, Alatreon, etc.

Should it be before or after reaching canon?

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The deep forest was quiet, the only sounds the rustling of leaves and the occasional chirp of birds. The air was crisp, filled with the earthy scent of moss and pine. I stood before the twenty-four men and women I had chosen, their faces filled with determination and respect. They had proven themselves worthy, and now they stood before me, ready to take the next step.

I looked at each of them, my gaze steady and unwavering.

"Today marks the beginning of a new chapter," I began, my voice calm but carrying the weight of authority.

"You have been chosen not just for your skill, but for your courage, your loyalty, and your willingness to fight for something greater than yourselves. But let me be clear—the path I walk is not an easy one. It is fraught with challenges, with danger, with sacrifices. If any of you wish to turn back, now is the time."

The group was silent, their eyes fixed on me. Then, one by one, they spoke.

"We don't care about the challenges," said a burly woman with a scar across her cheek.

"You've already done more for us than anyone else. My family has food on the table because of you. I'll follow you to the ends of the earth if I have to."

"Aye," said a wiry man with quick reflexes.

"You've given us hope, something to fight for. I'm not turning back now."

"You've changed our lives," added a young man with a fiery demeanor.

"We owe you more than we can ever repay. Serving you is the least we can do."

I felt a flicker of warmth at their words, but I didn't let it show. Instead, I nodded, my expression serious.

"Your loyalty means more to me than you know. But remember this—from this day forward, you will serve not just me, but those I deem worthy. You will fight for the people, for the future, for the kingdom. Do you understand?"

They nodded, their faces filled with determination. And then, without a word, they knelt before me—not out of fear or necessity, but out of respect and admiration. It was a gesture that spoke volumes, a testament to the bond we had forged.

I didn't tell them to kneel. They chose to do so, and that made all the difference.

Once the formalities were done, I decided to show them the true extent of my power. I needed them to understand what they were committing to, to see the strength they would be following.

I walked to a nearby tree, its trunk thick and sturdy, its branches reaching high into the sky. I unsheathed **Maip**, the blade gleaming in the dappled sunlight. The sword hummed faintly in my hand, its mana-infused edge sharp and deadly.

I took a deep breath, focusing my will. The mana within me surged, flowing through my veins and into the blade. The air around me seemed to still, the forest holding its breath as I raised the sword.

With a simple, fluid motion, I swung the blade. There was no flash of light, no deafening roar—just the clean, precise cut of a master swordsman. The tree shuddered for a moment, and then, with a soft creak, it toppled to the ground, its trunk sliced cleanly in two.

The sound of the tree hitting the forest floor echoed through the clearing, followed by stunned silence. My subordinates stared at the fallen tree, their eyes wide with awe and disbelief. They had seen me train, had heard the rumors of my skill, but this—this was something else entirely.

I sheathed Maip, the blade sliding into its scabbard with a soft hiss.

"This is the power you will be following," I said, my voice calm but filled with authority.

The group was silent for a moment, their faces filled with a mixture of awe and determination. Then, one by one, they rose to their feet, their eyes shining with newfound resolve.

"We're ready," said the woman, her voice firm.

"Whatever it takes, we'll follow you."

The others nodded, their expressions filled with the same determination. I felt a sense of pride as I looked at them, knowing that I had chosen well. These were not just warriors—they were men and women who believed in my vision, who were willing to fight for a better future.

The forest clearing was alive with the sounds of training—the clash of steel, the grunts of exertion, the occasional shout of encouragement. My subordinates were hard at work, their determination evident in every movement. I watched them for a moment, a sense of pride swelling within me. They had come so far in such a short time, their potential shining through with each passing day.

But my attention was drawn to the four individuals who had caught my eye during the trials. They stood apart from the others, their presence commanding and their skills exceptional. I had seen something in them—something that set them apart from the rest. They were not just skilled; they were destined for greatness.

I approached them, my expression calm but my gaze sharp. "You four," I said, my voice carrying easily over the noise of training. "Step forward."

They obeyed without hesitation, their faces filled with a mixture of curiosity and respect. I studied them for a moment, taking in their unique traits—the wiry man with quick reflexes, the lean and agile woman with a dancer's grace, the cunning rogue with a sharp mind, and the tenacious fighter with unyielding determination.

"What are your names?" I asked, my tone firm but not unkind.

The wiry man stepped forward first, his voice steady. "Garrick, my lord."

The lean woman followed, her tone confident. "Lyra."

The cunning rogue gave a slight bow, his eyes gleaming with intelligence. "Darius."

The tenacious fighter stood tall, his voice filled with resolve. "Kael."

I nodded, committing their names to memory. These were the men and women who would become my guardians, the pillars of my strength.

"Garrick, Lyra, Darius, Kael," I said, my voice carrying the weight of authority.

"You have proven yourselves worthy of more than just the basic training. I have chosen you to become my guardians—the North, the East, the West, and the South. You will stand by my side, protecting me and those I deem worthy. Do you accept this responsibility?"

Their eyes widened in surprise, but it was quickly replaced by determination. Garrick was the first to speak, his voice filled with conviction.

"It would be an honor, my lord."

Lyra nodded, her expression fierce.

"I won't let you down."

Darius smirked, his tone laced with confidence.

"You can count on me."

Kael's voice was steady, his resolve unshakable.

"I'll give my life for this cause."

I felt a flicker of satisfaction at their responses. Their loyalty was genuine, their intentions unwavering. I had spent centuries learning to discern truth from deception, and I knew without a doubt that these four were sincere.

"Good," I said, my tone firm but not unkind.

"The path ahead will not be easy, but I will teach you methods that are most compatible with your strengths. You will become more than just warriors—you will become legends."

I began by teaching Garrick the **Gale Aura**, a technique that enhanced his already impressive speed and reflexes. His movements became a blur, his strikes as swift and unpredictable as the wind. The air around him seemed to ripple as he moved, his attacks leaving trails of shimmering energy.

Lyra, with her lean and agile frame, excelled at the **Flame Aura**, a technique that amplified her grace and precision. Her movements were fluid and mesmerizing, like a dancer wielding fire. The air around her grew warm, and her strikes carried the intensity of a blazing inferno.

Darius, with his cunning mind, mastered the **Shadow Aura**, a technique that allowed him to manipulate darkness and deceive his opponents. His movements were silent and elusive, his strikes appearing from unexpected angles. The shadows seemed to cling to him, making him nearly invisible in the dim light.

Kael, with his unyielding determination, embraced the **Stone Aura**, a technique that enhanced his endurance and resilience. His movements were deliberate and powerful, his strikes as unyielding as the earth itself. The ground beneath him seemed to tremble with each step, his presence as solid as a mountain.

As they trained, I watched them closely, offering guidance and encouragement. They pushed themselves to the limit, their determination unwavering. They knew what was at stake, and they were willing to give everything to achieve it.

Once their training was complete, I gathered them in the center of the clearing. The sun was setting, casting a golden glow over the forest. The four stood before me, their faces filled with pride and determination.

"You have done well," I said, my voice carrying easily over the quiet of the forest.

"But remember—this is only the beginning. The path ahead will be long and fraught with danger, but I have no doubt that you will rise to the challenge."

They nodded, their expressions serious. Garrick stepped forward, his voice filled with conviction.

"We won't let you down, my lord. We'll protect you and the kingdom with everything we have."

Lyra followed, her tone fierce.

"You've given us a purpose, a future. We'll fight for that future, no matter the cost."

Darius smirked, his eyes gleaming with determination.

"You can count on us to handle whatever comes our way."

Kael's voice was steady, his resolve unshakable.

"We'll stand by your side, now and always."

I felt a sense of pride as I looked at them, knowing that I had chosen well. These were not just warriors—they were men and women who believed in my vision, who were willing to fight for a better future.

"Then let it be so," I said, my voice filled with authority.

"From this day forward, you are my guardians—the North, the East, the West, and the South. Together, we will forge a legacy that will endure for generations."

They knelt before me, their heads bowed in respect. I didn't tell them to kneel; they chose to do so, and that made all the difference.

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It had only been two weeks since the training of my army began, and already they were showcasing a level of skill that far surpassed my expectations. The camp I had set up as a training barracks was alive with activity—men and women moving in perfect unison, their strikes precise and their movements fluid. The sound of clashing steel and the rhythmic thud of boots on the ground echoed through the air, a testament to their hard work and discipline.

I stood at the edge of the training grounds, watching as my subordinates sparred and trained. Garrick's movements were swift and precise, his strikes carrying a speed that seemed almost unnatural.

Lyra's agility was on full display, her lean frame darting around her opponent with the grace of a predator.

Darius's cunning was evident in every feint and counter, his mind always two steps ahead. And Kael's endurance was unmatched, his relentless attacks wearing down even the most determined opponents.

The sound of approaching footsteps drew my attention, and I turned to see my father, Robert Baratheon, striding into the camp.

His presence was commanding, his broad shoulders and booming voice drawing the attention of everyone around him. Behind him trailed a group of Kingsguard, their armor gleaming in the sunlight.

"Eryx!" Robert called, his voice filled with a mixture of curiosity and amusement.

"What in the seven hells is this?"

I smiled, walking over to greet him.

"Father, welcome to my training camp. I didn't expect you to visit so soon."

Robert's eyes swept over the camp, taking in the sight of my army training with a level of skill and coordination that was nothing short of impressive.

His expression shifted from curiosity to awe as he watched a group of my subordinates move in perfect unison, their strikes precise and their movements fluid.

"By the gods, boy," Robert said, his voice filled with genuine admiration.

"You've been busy. These men—they move like seasoned warriors. How in the world did you manage this in just two weeks?"

I chuckled, my tone light but proud.

"Discipline, focus, and a lot of hard work. They're a talented group, and they've pushed themselves to get where they are."

Robert's eyes gleamed with interest as he watched a sparring match between two of my subordinates.

Their movements were fast and precise, their strikes carrying a level of skill that was rare even among experienced fighters.

"They don't even look like they're tiring," he remarked, his voice filled with awe.

I nodded, my expression calm but satisfied.

"They've learned to conserve their energy and use it efficiently. It's one of the first things I taught them."

Robert turned to me, a grin spreading across his face.

"I've got to see this for myself. How about a little sparring match? My Kingsguard against your men. Let's see how they stack up."

I raised an eyebrow, amused by the challenge.

"Are you sure, Father? My men might embarrass your Kingsguard."

Robert laughed, the sound booming through the camp.

"We'll see about that. Call your best man."

I turned to the training grounds and called out,

"Garrick! Front and center!"

Garrick appeared almost instantly, his movements swift and precise as he approached. He bowed slightly, his expression calm but confident.

"You called, my lord?"

I gestured to the Kingsguard.

"My father wants to see how you stack up against his best. Think you can handle it?"

Garrick's lips curved into a faint smile.

"It would be my honor."

The Kingsguard stepped forward, a tall and imposing man with a reputation for being one of the best fighters in the realm. He drew his sword, the blade gleaming in the sunlight, and took a defensive stance. Garrick unsheathed his own blade, his movements smooth and deliberate.

The two men circled each other, their eyes locked in a silent battle of wills. The Kingsguard made the first move, lunging forward with a powerful strike aimed at Garrick's shoulder. Garrick sidestepped with ease, his movements fluid and precise. He countered with a quick slash, forcing the Kingsguard to retreat.

The Kingsguard pressed the attack, his strikes heavy and deliberate. Each blow was aimed to overpower, but Garrick's speed and agility allowed him to evade with minimal effort. He moved like a shadow, his footwork impeccable as he danced around his opponent.

The Kingsguard's frustration began to show as Garrick continued to evade his attacks. He swung his blade in a wide arc, aiming to catch Garrick off guard. But Garrick ducked under the strike, his movements almost too fast to follow. He countered with a series of rapid strikes, each one forcing the Kingsguard to retreat further.

The crowd watched in awe as Garrick's speed and precision overwhelmed the Kingsguard. His strikes were calculated and efficient, each one aimed to exploit his opponent's weaknesses. The Kingsguard struggled to keep up, his movements growing sluggish as fatigue set in.

Finally, Garrick saw his opening. He feinted to the left, drawing the Kingsguard's blade out of position, and then struck with a swift, precise slash. The Kingsguard's sword flew from his hand, clattering to the ground as Garrick's blade came to rest at his throat.

The camp erupted into cheers, my subordinates applauding Garrick's victory. Robert let out a bark of laughter, his pride evident.

"By the gods, boy! You've got yourself a fine army. I've never seen anything like it."

I smiled, my tone humble but proud.

"They're a talented group. But this is only the beginning."

Robert clapped a hand on my shoulder, his grip firm but affectionate.

"You've done well, Eryx. I'm proud of you."

I felt a flicker of warmth at his words, but I didn't let it show. Instead, I gestured toward the main camp.

"Come, Father. Let's talk privately."

I led my father into the main camp, a large tent set up at the center of the training grounds. Inside, the space was simple but functional, with a table covered in maps and scrolls, and a few chairs scattered around. I gestured for Robert to take a seat, then poured us both a cup of wine.

Robert took a long drink, his expression thoughtful. "Alright, boy," he said, his tone gruff but not unkind. "What's on your mind? You didn't bring me here just to show off your army, did you?"

I sat across from him, my gaze steady. "No, Father. There's something more pressing I need to discuss with you."

Robert raised an eyebrow, his interest piqued. "Go on."

I leaned forward slightly, my tone serious. "I'm worried about a plot brewing behind the scenes. Specifically, the possibility that the Lannisters intend to take over the throne."

Robert's expression darkened, his grip tightening around his goblet. "The Lannisters? What makes you say that?"

I met his gaze, my voice calm but firm. "From what I know and understand, my grandfather Tywin Lannister values his family name and influence more than anything. He's a man who will stop at nothing to secure his legacy. And what better way to do that than by placing a Lannister on the Iron Throne?"

Robert was silent for a moment, his brow furrowed as he considered my words. He knew Tywin well—knew his ambition, his ruthlessness. Finally, he nodded, his voice low. "Aye, you're not wrong. Tywin's always been a schemer. But what evidence do you have?"

I shook my head. "No concrete evidence, Father. Just a gut feeling and an understanding of how Tywin operates. But sometimes, that's enough. We can't afford to be caught off guard."

Robert leaned back in his chair, his expression grim. "So what do you suggest?"

I took a deep breath, my tone measured. "I think you should make a will. A clear and unambiguous declaration that I am to be your heir—not just as your son, but as the next King. Specifically me. No room for interpretation, no loopholes for others to exploit."

Robert's eyes narrowed as he studied me. "You think your uncles would try to take the throne?"

"It's possible," I said, my voice steady. "Both Stannis and Renly are ambitious in their own ways. And if Tywin were to back either of them, it could create a dangerous situation. We need to ensure that the succession is clear and uncontested."

Robert was silent for a long moment, his fingers drumming against the armrest of his chair. Then he let out a sigh, his expression resigned. "You're right. Among my children, you're the most capable. Joffrey… well, he's not fit to rule. And Tommen's too young. You're the only one who can handle this."

I nodded, my expression humble but determined. "Thank you, Father. I won't let you down."

Robert raised his goblet, a faint smile playing on his lips.

"To the future, then."

I raised my own cup, the faintest of smiles playing on my lips.

"To the future."

As Robert left the camp, his laughter echoing through the training grounds, I felt a sense of satisfaction. My father's support was a valuable asset, but I knew better than to rely on him entirely. He was a pawn in my game, a means to an end. And while I appreciated his trust, I had no illusions about his limitations.

My true goal was far greater than simply securing the throne. I intended to eliminate Tywin Lannister—not just as a threat, but as a symbol of the old order. His death would send a clear message to the rest of Westeros: the era of Lannister dominance was over. And in its place, a new era would rise—one shaped by my vision, my will.

But for now, I would bide my time. I would continue to build my army, to strengthen my position, and to prepare for the challenges ahead. The game was far from over, and I was ready to play.