The Phoenix – A GOT Fan-Fiction

[300 AC]

Looking at the black mark on the face of the dozens of dead ironborn that had terrorized the castle just the day before, Maester Luwin had a conflicted expression on his face.

In just one night, Winterfell had been freed of the raiders and rapists that had taken residence inside the ancestral seat of House Stark, which would normally be something to celebrate.

Except that the elderly advisor and steward of House Stark recognized the black mark to be the Red Temple's sigil, which left a somewhat compromised aftertaste behind.

As one of the few Maesters of the Citadel that had earned his Valyrian steel link on his maester's chain, he had studied the higher mysteries, though not to the extent of magic itself. He knew very well that the Children of the Forest and even the Giants of the past were not tales of folklore, but he had also been of the belief that they had gone extinct thousands of years ago.

The most prevalent form of magic since then had undoubtedly been the blood magic used by shadowbinders of Asshai, though they had not posed a threat to the Realm.

All that had changed though with the appearance of the 'Red God', as his priests and priestesses had proven themselves incredibly powerful sorcerers and sorceresses due to the 'his' blessings.

The old Maester naturally knew that such a powerful force was a threat to the Realm and the last decade had proven him right, as he had seen the temple slowly spreading its influence through the blessings their god had given them.

Luwin also understood the Citadel's fear towards the Red Temple, though he knew that those Archmaesters and other members of the order were more concerned about losing their power and influence over the Lords and Ladies of Westeros, than being genuinely concerned about the Red God's intentions.

His own loyalty though laid with House Stark and he feared more for the well-being of the children he helped bring into the world as well as helped educate and raise, than about some loss of influence.

So while he was glad that the temple had dealt with the ironborn in Winterfell, even though his former student Theon had been amongst those that had been assassinated.

Luwin knew that the Greyjoys would not have stayed in the castle forever and he was sure that they would not leave without razing and most likely torching the place like it was their habit. He could only imagine what would have happened to his young Lords in that scenario, as Theon did not seem to have been in the right state of mind after returning from the Iron Islands and meeting his father again.

At the same time, the Maester was also fearful of the temple's means and objectives.

The assassinations of almost five dozen men had been carried out completely unnoticed and simultaneously, which alone made him wonder about the incredible power the Red Temple wielded, but it also made him question why such a thing had happened.

And the end the old Maester could not help but sigh in worry, as he hoped that when the time came for the Red Temple to reveal its true goal, the House he served and the people he cared for would not draw its ire, as he seriously doubted that any force in the known world could ever hope to resist it.

…

Bursting through the clouds on the cream-coloured terror that was his bonded dragon, Jaehaerys felt water droplets condense on his cheeks and hair, but the speed of Lyra's descent forced the water from his form only seconds later.

Falling through the sky at break-neck speed, the young Targaryen kept his gaze on the target below, already used to his dragon's speed and maneuvers after years of flying together.

The murky green water of the great river below was rather difficult to discern from the green planes to both sides of the waterway, but the giant structure bridging the gap between the shores of the Green Fork was a rather easy-to-track landmark from above.

Lyra's light colour made an assault during the day much more possible than it would have been for Daenerys on Obsidian, though either way Jaehaerys knew that it mattered little, as nothing in the castle below could defend against a dragon of her size.

At this point in time, Lyra was the size of a small hill herself and her scales were harder than any non-magical steel could ever hope to be. Even a blade from Valyrian steel would feel resistance when attempting to pierce her natural defenses.

When there were only a few hundred feet of distance between them and their target, and some of the people down below had finally noticed his dragon's approach, Lyra unfolded her wings and slowed their fall while adjusting her posture and direction, letting loose a sky-shaking roar that induced instinctive fear in all those listening.

“ROAARRR!”

Tightly holding onto the harness, they came to a stop right above the castle, Lyra's massive wings causing them to hover in the sky by the virtue of her powerful strokes.

An icy light began to burn in Jaehaerys' eyes, as he ordered in a low voice that only his companion could hear: “Dracarys.”

The glare in the cream-coloured dragon's eyes suddenly turned fierce, as Lyra's head reared back before a storm of golden-white flames was unleashed from her maw and crashed into the castle walls with incredibly destructive force.

Golden flickers were visible in the unending stream of blazing destruction, as Jaehaerys guided his dragon to lay waste to the ancestral seat of House Frey unopposed.

…

Seeing the smoke rise from the distance where their destination lay, the Young Wolf had a grim look on his face, thinking that the Lannister army may have foreseen his plans to ask the Frey's for reinforcements once again, which may have led to them attacking the Twins.

“Are you sure you want to rush into battle just like this, Your Grace? We do not know the situation ahead, it could be a trap or the battle is long since over. The risks are too great, my Lord!”, Roose Bolten implored with a heavy frown on his face.

They were currently still on the road towards the crossing, though they had made a short pause to discuss how to proceed from here.

“I have made my decision, Commander. We cannot let the Twins fall into the Lannister's hands as that would trap us in these lands without any chance to retreat or for reinforcements from the North to reach us anytime soon. If the Twins fall, we will fall with them!”, the young King announced harshly.

Turning towards the other Lords around him, the King of the North ordered: "Gather all the men. I will bring every knight and cavalryman with me and go reinforce the Freys. You will follow behind with the infantry, Lord Bolton."