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Trying To Get Myself Killed: Westeros Edition by NotAHero101
TV » Game of Thrones Rated: M, English, Humor & Adventure, Robert B., Eddard S., Words: 71k+, Favs: 1k+, Follows: 1k+, Published: Nov 25, 2021 Updated: Oct 6, 2023
279Chapter 15
It's three in the morning, so unfortunately this is a tad bit raw. Do mention any mistakes!
...
'Swallowing up a god was a hell of a learning experience.
Now obviously, I didn't actually swallow him up, and calling him a god was a tad exaggerating- I'd essentially pulled a magical ritual and ate up the excess residue of worship-defined magical power...
Maybe I did swallow him up... Hm questions for the philosophers I suppose.
Truth be told, it hadn't been that difficult.
In terms of a hierarchy, R'hillor was likely on the upper echelons of power- though that was entirely due to his own antics.
See, the Old Gods of the North as an example, kept their obvious showings of power hidden from the populous. In fact, they were borderline hands-off of shit and had been since the first Dawn following the defeat of the White Walkers. Which was a whole different bag altogether. In essence, the gods of the north had elected to stop intervening in human matters as they feared that their presence would lead to the others to do the same, which was actually why their worshippers tended to get the shit end of the stick on multiple occasions- Though in the end would somehow end up winning.
You could basically break the oaths of peace at dinner, slay a king that followed them and a vast majority of their faithful and odds are you won't get smited for it from 'em. Why? Because the Old Gods essentially didn't give enough of shit as worshippers were a dime a dozen.
What was interesting about it was that even if they didn't act out their punishments, more often than not their fellow gods would do it for them.
Like say, a son crossbowing the father responsible for the reprehensible dinner in the privy and a cocky king getting poisoned in his own little red wedding.
Because there was an order to things- Letting someone get away with reprehensible acts would only endanger the status quo down the line and the Old Gods knew it, which was why they felt it prudent not immediately act as doing so is, one pointless in the grand scheme of things, and two would only lead to their followers getting cocky.
Long story short, they were not helicopter parents. Their motto was that tough times breed tough but diligent people, and cheats through divine power led to more zombie apocalypses.
The Seven on the other hand had a somewhat different approach because they were essentially Millenials. Instead of just ignoring all atrocity and believing life will work itself out, they followed the motto of subtly playing their little games of power to make sure their worshippers remembered their place.
One example that comes to mind is the Justice they delivered. Now a neutral party, in personal terms, is more than welcome in their minds when it comes to dispensing and asking for it- Even if they are a tad chaotic- Because to them, reaching for the stars from a lowly place is seen in a positive light as it promotes advancements, growing, etc. Which was why a Mockingbird could sing any tune it wished, so long as it wasn't emotional- But the moment it became emotional, was the moment shit turned sideways.
But there was always an ironic twist to it.
Broker a marriage between a bastard of a king and a conniving ignorant flower? Done. The reward is a cursed haunted castle that goes through multiple ownerships.
Seek justice borne out of vengeance? Done. The reward is personal death. And more death. And more and more death. Why? Because it was personal. (it's underlined for a reason! Looking at you Oberyn.)
Long story short, it was subtle and nearly no one would notice it unless they had an out-of-context view.
Now... The Lord of Freaking Light.
That fucker wouldn't know the meaning of subtlety until it shanked him in the side and used his entrails to bring back dead people.
While the Old Gods effectively took their hands off things, and the Seven kept their influence hidden under an asshole veil- This freakin' idiot went around resurrecting people in broad freaking daylight.
Both the Old and the Seven favored countless numbers of worshippers- R'hllor favored the few, which was why his power was so much more effective in human life- Because it wasn't been shared between tens of thousands. Unfortunately, it didn't occur to him that pushing his weight around like that, made him a so very easy target.
He was an arrogant, pompous prick who thought he could whatever the hell he wanted with impunity.
Which was why it was so unsurprising to feel his effect on a certain Lion I'd used a test subject for testing out whatever small amount of power I'd gained following the sudden servitude of a death cult. Unsurprising, because of course the daft fuck would send his favored priestess to see the sudden shadow entwined golden head of Lannister. And it wasn't even subtle at that. I'd practically felt my head fill up in flames the moment the two made eye contact, let alone the moment the red witch had tried reaching out towards the Old Lion.
Needless to say, it wasn't an opportunity to miss- The moment I'd felt that connection, I'd metaphorically latched onto it and just pulled.
And kept on pulling even as the sky was set in flames- That was me by the way- Until I'd had a firm grasp of his being before I literally shattered him into a million pieces, used some of them to bring back two dead people, and slurped the rest up like it was batch of noodles.
On the account of resurrections- No I can't go nilly willy and just bring back dead people, there were rules. Or well, one rule. One practically defined by this shitty world.
Ironic Equivalent Exchange.
Which essentially meant that status, renown, and personal view all had to align- A princess for a princess (even if it was one that convinced herself she was one and was seen as such by at the very least a handful of others). A queen for a should've-been queen. A firstborn for a firstborn, etc.
The Irony came in after those we're fulfilled- Ie a firstborn son that was guaranteed a crown, and firstborn daughter that was forbidden from it.
A queen that was never a princess, for a princess that would've but never became a queen, etc'-
"Karma?" The gruff voice quickly stole my attention from the writing as I turned towards the doorway, my gaze landing a bemused Sandor Clegane. The man eyed my parchments curiously for a moment. "Dorne's princes want to see you," He eventually shrugged as he walked into the room.
"Finally, was getting bored writing my autobiography here."
Sandor blinked a few times at the word as he lowered his gaze down to the words.
"Gonna call it 'Trying To Get Myself Killed: Westeros Edition!'" I snorted before getting up off my seat while Sandor just rolled his eyes at me.
"Right."
Standing up, I promptly clapped as I grasped hold of the parchments. "So, I take it Dorne's royalty's finally come to terms with their recently un-dead princesses?"
Oberyn, following the confirmation that his deeply disturbed, which was fair, to be honest, sister was once again alive, had given me a vice-grip of a hug- One I'd literally had to push him off of me to get out of.
Alas, it had taken her a while to come to terms with living once again- Like we're talking speechless dead-eyed staring for like five minutes at least before her daughter had broken her out of it with her crying.
Sandor gave a non-committal shrug to my question, evidently not giving a single fuck about it as he followed me out.
Idly glancing towards my ever fanatic assassin- The man stationed outside my room, I couldn't help the smile that took over my face.
At the very least, if anyone was going to know whether Aegon needed a slice through the neck or a crown on his head, it was his freakin' mother.
If it was the former, then I had a feeling uncontrollable wailing was going to become a thing in a few moments- If it was the latter, I couldn't wait to tell Bobby B the good news.
I idly wondered how quickly the man would throw his crown away to go off on an adventure in the East.
If he's lucky, I might be able to snag Euron Greyjoy's soul before that and, if his shtick's twisted enough to loophole the rules, bring back his dead wolf-bride for the ride.
Ned would definitely appreciate that.
It was ironic how much more fun the world suddenly got following R'hllor's death.
...
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Trying To Get Myself Killed: Westeros Edition by NotAHero101
TV » Game of Thrones Rated: M, English, Humor & Adventure, Robert B., Eddard S., Words: 71k+, Favs: 1k+, Follows: 1k+, Published: Nov 25, 2021 Updated: Oct 6, 2023
279Chapter 24: Interlude: Elia Martell I
...
Death was the easy part. It was what came after that had truly scarred her.
Oh, she could remember it, even now, so long after, the scene as clear as the day it had occurred. The sight of the Mountain and what he had done. Yet, for all the fear she had felt as she watched him throw that poor babe onto a wall, crushing its head. For all the pain she had felt hearing her darling daughter die to that wretch- Her breath cursing Vary's for not willing, or being unable to help her as he did her son- For all the scars she had gained before taking her final breath...
It didn't compare to what came next.
The first time she had witnessed the cycle had started when she had been met by the distraught ethereal maid who had cried a thousand apologies to her for her fate as if she had been the one who had caused it. A being she had only seen once. A being that had promised her true eternal peace once her final regrets had been settled, once she had gained the closure she desperately wanted.
The closure that surrounded her living family... Her only son. The closure that, unlike the being who had met and promised her only once, had repeated itself countless times unable to truly finish.
She had watched her loving fool of a brother, die out of his own arrogance. So desperate to get the truth out to the lords of the realm- Lords that wouldn't have cared a whit about it.
She had watched her nephew as he burnt.
She had watched her darling son scrape together his army, fight battle after battle to gain his trueborn right, only to fall at the hands of that cursed Crow's Eye.
She had watched her lovely nieces fall just the same, one after the other, as they failed to avenge him or their father.
And she had watched her eldest brother, on the cusp of finally reaching his decades-long struggle, his decades-long secrets coming, fall at the hands of those mythical Icy beings. For the moment the Viper had bared its fangs, the Northen monsters had sliced it in half.
Even in death, her heart had been broken more and more, the promised peace a blessing she could only wish would come sooner. And yet, it never came.
For the Icy beings who had ravaged the land, had cursed the afterlife with it. Their cold seeping in slowly and consistently, until the cold of the north itself, had seeped into her soul. Until even the Afterlife itself faded away at their touch, and time in response wound itself back to the moment that Ethereal maiden had left her, repeating the tragedy of her family once again.
Over and over again.
So many times she had lost count.
So many times she had watched her family die.
So many times she had watched that Crow's Eye burn whatever hopes her son and, by extension, the world had of surviving the White Walkers.
So many times those monsters had ravaged the world beyond repair and forced her to return to the beginning a spectator.
At some point eternity would feel like it were seconds- The deaths of her family happening in quick succession before the cold took over, and yet others it felt like seconds that would never end as she watched her brother's agonizing death to the Mountain happen so very slowly.
It was a never-ending nightmare.
At least, until it did.
Until he came into the world a shooting star that had sent shockwaves through everything. That had for a brief moment showcased the very gods that had put her in this torment.
Unlike the White Walker's, whose slow methodical cold crept into the afterlife, his was a burning flame that scoured through it as if it were wildfire. Whose very presence had changed all that was and ever could be.
She had watched as her foolish brother, on account of the stranger, evade his fate as he was met with the head of the man that would've killed him- Hope, for the first time in eternity soaring through her at the sight.
She had relished the fear that had swept through her daughter's killer as he was dragged across her home.
She had watched her lovestruck niece throw herself at the stranger, ignorant of whatever danger that may be.
She had thanked the gods when the stranger had promised to help her son gain a crown.
And then... She had watched a burning storm of fire erupt from her background, anger and hate filling it as it fought off the warmth the stranger had provided. Watched as a dozen Ethereal beings appeared before her, all of them pleading and cursing the firey god for his hubris, as millions of other souls throughout history came into view- All of them no doubt having been stuck in the same nightmare she'd been, though for much much longer- All of them, gods and souls, begging for him to restrain his arrogance.
The Lord of Light ignored them all and struck. And in doing so, she had watched a god die.
And the stranger, for the time in eternity, had, in turn, watched her. His gaze locked with her own as she froze, and yet the cold of the north was nowhere to be felt.
Her daughter's form appeared soon after amongst the rest of the souls watching, and just as she grabbed hold of her, fear lancing through as to what it all meant.
Her daughter's form appeared soon after amongst the rest of the souls watching, and just as she grabbed hold of her, fear lancing through as to what it all meant... Yet in mere moments, she had found herself falling away from the rest, her daughter gripped in her hands, as the frustrated and demented yet familiar cries of a king and his mother filled her background. As blood and feeling coursed through her being. As consciousness took hold once again.
And for the first time in eternity, she had watched her family respond to her once again.
...
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Trying To Get Myself Killed: Westeros Edition by NotAHero101
TV » Game of Thrones Rated: M, English, Humor & Adventure, Robert B., Eddard S., Words: 71k+, Favs: 1k+, Follows: 1k+, Published: Nov 25, 2021 Updated: Oct 6, 2023
279Chapter 16
...
"I was told both princes wanted to see me," I remarked from my seat opposite the visibly aged elder prince. As usual, Sandor was kept outside- Though for once it was his own choice, as opposed to the guards telling him.
Evidently the fuckers stopped treating him like a subject.
Though the door to the solar was suspiciously the slightest bit ajar.
Doran Martell spared a moment to stare at me before he elected to respond.
"My brother is attending to..." A flash of emotions went through the man's face before he settled for a sigh. "Elia, and Rhaenys, who has in fact confirmed that Aegon lives." He shook his head. "And yet, I know not whether they're current... Mad ramblings are a result of what you did or a result of what they went through."
"Jumping to conclusions are we?" I questioned with a snort. "I didn't think you had it in you."
He frowned at that, there were words about to leave his mouth before his gaze turned... Somewhat duller as he shook his head again.
"What's wrong?" I questioned with a grin. "Snake got your tongue?"
He didn't react to that, besides favoring me with the same stoic expression.
I promptly stuck my feet up onto his desk and tilted my head at him.
And yet, still, he made no reaction to the disrespect.
"Gods you've gone boring," I scoffed with a roll of my eyes. "Well, go on then, might as well regal me with these so-called mad ramblings of hers." That seemed to get his attention as he straightened himself up and did just that.
Turns out setting the sky on fire got me some respect around here.
"She speaks of monsters from the north... Of demonic Greyjoys and dragons..." The man shook his head. "It's bad enough that her return is only going to bring the pious, the crown, and whatever lord who wishes to gain any form of favor against her... But-"
"I mean she's not wrong." I deadpanned cutting off his tirade as his gaze immediately turned worried. "The White Walkers certainly qualify as monsters- And as far as demonic Greyjoy's go, pretty sure the Crow's Eye's pretty hell-bent on turning himself into a god." I finished with a shrug.
Which was, you know, nice to know.
I would've preferred the series fucker but alas we can't all get what we want.
Doran Martell blinked a few times at that, clear disbelief filling his face for a moment before all of it was replaced by dread.
"Still... To see all of that- Yeesh even your afterlife's a shithole!" I deadpanned, shaking my head.
Doran Martell promptly covered his face with his hands, a curse coming out in the process.
"So, what'd you call me here for anyway?" I questioned. "You know, besides trying to gaslight your sister."
"I don't know what to do!" The man slammed his hands onto the desk, the shout that came with it surprising me enough to remove my feet from his desk. "Everything I've done... Everything I've planned for has gone to flames!" The man continued in the same tone of voice, evidently reaching his limit and breaking through. "My vengeance turned to nothing! My plans for a crown for my daughter gone with the wind! My sister brought back from the dead!" The man covered his face again. "I am lost!"
I made to speak up, only for the man to promptly lower his hands, his face a rictus of anger as he stared at me.
"And now you mean to tell me that there are monsters rising from the north!? That the Crow's Eye intends to become another like you!?"
And that was my limit!
"Well, I am officially offended. Euron Greyjoy want's to become a god." A single beat passed. "I just want to kill 'em, there's a difference," I finished with a wave of my hand.
"Oh, this must be so entertaining for you!" The man remarked humorously as he pointed a finger at me. "To bring our lowly games down before us! To turn everything-"
"Stop throwing a hissy fit." I interrupted him.
The man's expression practically broke at that one as he opened and closed his mouth several times before he eventually settled for slumping into his seat.
"Honestly, I don't get the big deal." I shrugged. "I gave you the mountain's head, gave you Lorch, and even brought back your dead sister and niece." A single beat passed. "And you know you've got a nephew that's actually a claimant for the throne even!" I rolled my eyes. "You should be over the freakin' moon right now,"
"Yet at what price?" The man demanded. "What price will house Martell have to pay for this blessing!?"
I tilted my head at him.
"Considering you all have nothing to offer me, I'd say nothing." I shrugged to his utter bemusement.
He appraised me for a second, clear disbelief in his eyes before eventually, he settled for asking a simple question.
"Why?" There was a ton of suspicion in his voice as if he refused to believe it.
"You said it yourself," I snorted. "I am above your petty little games Martell, I do what I want when I feel like it- Turns out I had a soft spot for what your sister and niece went through and decided to undo it."
"No man does anything free of charge." The man insisted before a look of realization filled his eyes. "Yet no man should be capable of setting the sky on fire without dragons."
"Like I'd need a freakin' lizard to do my dirty work." I snorted.
He ignored my remark, instead electing to mull something over for a moment before he let out another sigh.
"Be that as it may... Your lack of care has only put a target on my sister and niece... For even in Dorne those who believe in the light of the seven will see her for a witch." A single beat passed. "Perhaps Lannister's dog is smarter than he gives himself credit for, given he'd elected to follow you over the Old Lion."
"Hm?" What the fuck was he talking about?
"You may claim to have done what you did out of the goodness of your heart- Yet, I am willing to offer you anything for your continued service."
"I am not gonna go around resurrecting people if that's what you're asking." I deadpanned.
He let out a genuine snort at that before shaking his head.
"I only wish to ask that you offer the same protection you've given to Clegane, to my sister and niece- For any man who wishes them harm will have to get through you and your army of assassins."
"...Are you on crack?" I questioned bemusedly. "What, you can't protect her yourself?"
The man looked down, shame filling his gaze in the process. "My house has already failed her, I don't wish to risk it again, when there are far more who would see her harmed, both in and outside of Dorne, than before."
"Yeesh, aren't you a pessimist," I remarked, shaking my head. "You understand I am not gonna be sticking around here right?" He nodded. "And Oberyns okay with me galivanting around with his sister?"
"Oh, I am certain of it, so long as he joins you."
The smug-eating grin may have not filled the fucker's face, but I think it desperately wanted to.
After a moment of thought on it, I let out a shrug.
"Fine, but if I accidentally sleep with her, that's on you."
Needless to say, that made him uncomfortable.
"...Given how you've rejected my daughter's advances, I thought that not to be an issue."
"What can I say, I got a thing for death-aligned chicks."
He didn't like my response.
"Don't sleep with my sister." There was a genuinely affronted glare on his face. "That's an order." He added on weakly.
"One, I don't answer to you, and two, that's up to her," I grinned at him. "Who knows, might even get a bastard out of it to set up the Martell Blackfyre edition."
He didn't like that either.
Sandor Clegane, judging by the uncontrollable laughter outside the room, was eavesdropping.
After another moment of a lot of twitching from the other, the man settled down with a single sigh.
"Just... Answer me this, honestly-"
"Bitch, I've been nothing but honest since I got here."
He visibly didn't like my new nickname for him, even if he didn't say anything about it.
"What happens when you succeed?" He questioned slowly. "When you finally get the death you want?"
I grinned.
"I get my powers back."
Needless to say, after a moment of thought on it, that turned his expression into outright dread.
...
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Trying To Get Myself Killed: Westeros Edition by NotAHero101
TV » Game of Thrones Rated: M, English, Humor & Adventure, Robert B., Eddard S., Words: 71k+, Favs: 1k+, Follows: 1k+, Published: Nov 25, 2021 Updated: Oct 6, 2023
279Chapter 26: Interlude: Oberyn Martell II
...
Oberyn Martell was having a very good week. Arguably the best week of his life.
His nephew was alive and supposedly on the road to gathering an army- At least until the faceless men pluck him from the east and bring him to his rightful family and true army.
His sister was alive. His niece with her.
His brother was finally admitting that his convoluted plans were all for naught and that passion and actions truly do win the day.
The mountain was dead. Armory Lorch was their prisoner.
Tywin Lannister was most likely shitting himself- To the point, Castertly Rock was bound to start running out of gold.
And best of all, the most dangerous man the Seven Kingdoms have ever seen was willfully in their corner. Provided his brother doesn't fuck it up.
Truly the gods were finally on his family's side. And for all that seemed to matter to considering Karma was making his claims of killing them come true.
Irony at its finest really.
Needless to say, he was outright whistling in joy as he swaggered towards his sister's chamber.
His gaze softened immediately on sight of watching her leave, her somewhat harried and a tad bit haunted look in her eyes ignored. Given she'd gone through death, he figured it was part of the whole deal.
"Ah, Elia-" He made to start, unable to keep the smile from his face, only to be interrupted the moment his sister's eyes seemed to narrow at him.
"Where's my daughter?" She questioned calmly.
He blinked a few times at the question. Elia had let him take her around the Water Gardens to explore for a bit before the girl had asked him to let her meet Karma.
To the guy's utter annoyance- Annoyance that stemmed from his inability to interact with children.
The man had more power than anything he'd ever seen, and yet children seemed to be his bane.
"Ah, that's what I came to tell you!" He remarked with good cheer, watching as relief momentarily shone through his sister's rather distraught expression. "I left her with Karma!" He grinned.
She slapped him and called him mad, an idiot and a word he was fairly certain their mother had forbidden her from using a long time ago.
He had a feeling she was taking her anger out regarding something else he must've done. It was clearly disproportionate to the crime!
"She asked me to take him to her!" He raised his hands in surrender. "What was I supposed to do? Ignore her wishes after she'd had them restricted by death for over a decade?" A single beat passed. "Of course, I'd obliged her! And came straight here to tell you where to find her."
His sister just stared at him as she used to whenever he bedded someone he shouldn't have.
He really missed that look.
"It is disturbing how little of a threat you seem to treat him as..."
Oberyn shrugged at that.
"What can I say? The man's grown on me." A single beat passed. "I dare say I am starting to like him more than our dear brother." He admitted easily.
Elia Martell frowned, quickly causing him to add more to calm her nerves.
"Don't get me wrong, I do love Doran, but Karma Gets. Shit. Done!" If his voice was a slight bit higher than intended, Elia didn't comment on it. "And the only fuck he seems to give is towards the gods watching us!"
His sister's expression didn't budge.
"Did you know the moment he showed up to his Kings Landing, he went straight to the Mountain and gut him so badly the crown had to call it a drunken accident?" The grin on his face was hard to stop. "Imagine it! The man had beaten the Old Lion's greatest fighter so badly, his bloody pet maester couldn't credit him with it because it would've made the lions look too weak!"
"...Oberyn," She smiled at him, which with the haunted look in her eyes was a tad terrifying if he was honest with himself. "How does that exactly alleviate my concerns with you letting my daughter spend time with him alone?"
"...If it makes you feel any better Sandor Clegane was with him as well?"
...
After several more slaps by his dainty sister, the two had found themselves stood outside the chambers Karma had elected to use, the sounds of the man in question filling the half-open doorway as he regaled his niece with stories.
When he made to enter, to his surprise, Elia's hand snaked its way onto his shoulder and stopped him, the two moving towards the wall on instinct, her free hand rising up in a finger before her nose and suspicious eyes.
He wasn't sure why the woman bothered.
It wasn't like Karma was going to change the conversation he was having because of anything.
On another note, Clegane wasn't in fact in the room, nor outside of it.
Karma meanwhile had his back towards the door as he sat down on the floor cross-legged, Rhaenys opposite him, her frame too small to notice them, seemingly enraptured in whatever story he was-
"-and that's why you can't remember your death." The man remarked easily.
Elia Martell's hand on his shoulder had surprisingly sharp nails.
The little princess crossed her arms.
"That's not fair! My mother remembers what happened! Why can't I?"
Karma shrugged. "Your mother's old enough to deal with death, you're not."
"Dick." Elia Martell accidentally seemed to let the word out judging by the shame that filled her face.
Oberyn to her surprise agreed.
"I'd believe you if not for the smile still stuck to your face, brother." Even with those words, he still noticed the sheer relief in her face at the fact her daughter evidently couldn't remember how she'd died.
Which while a great thing indeed, really did somewhat ruin his plans to have her repay Armory Lorch herself...
"Hmmm... Tell me about the Dreamer and her dream again!"
"Good gods girl how many times do I have to repeat something before you remember it!?"
Karma said to a six-year-old girl without a hint of sarcasm.
There was a hint of blood coming out of his shoulder now.
He might have to start wearing armor around his sister if this kept up.
Rhaenys, judging by the sound she'd made, had likely stuck her tongue out on him for his words.
"...You're lucky you're endearing, you know that?"
"I don' know what that means."
Elia Martell's grip on his shoulder loosened up the slightest bit as a small smile grew on her face.
"...Fine I'll tell you about that but only if you tell me what you saw in the afterlife."
Needless to say, his sister's eyes, much like his own, widened.
While he held his own reservations on what his sister had... Seen. Neither he nor Elia had managed to garner anything out of what Rhaenys had gone through.
He had no doubt Elia was worried she'd been put through the same as she did.
Truthfully, ever since he'd heard of the so-called afterlife that awaited them, he'd been more inclined to help Karma with his vendetta against the gods that watched over them.
"...It's really silly."
"Now I really want to know."
Karma had the subtlety of a dragon's roar.
"...Well my father always told me I should read more, so the only thing I saw when I died was books. Lots and lots of books. Because I was scared he wouldn't be happy with me if I didn't read enough."
...He was going to kill Rhaeger Targaryen.
"I am going to kill that bastard!" Elia Martell whispered with a snarl.
"Sister, he's already dead."
"I am going to have Karma bring him back to life, so I can kill him myself!"
It was oddly comforting to know that was entirely possible.
"Wow. All those books and you still don't know what endearing means."
He couldn't help the snort that came out of him, even as Elia's nails, more like claws really, cut through his shoulder again.
"You're very rude."
"I know."
A single beat passed. "Well, a promise is a promise so... Daenys the Dreamer wasn't really dreamer. Well, I mean she did get a vision but it wasn't from a dream."
His curiosity rose immediately just as his eyebrows did. And judging by the look on Elia's face so did hers.
"She got a vision from the last and absolute worst of the Dragonlords because the fu- Arrogant pot wanted some followers after he caused the doom, and he figured the Targeryans were lowly enough not to be taken seriously by his kin."
He wasn't entirely sure how much of what Karma was saying was true, though considering the man hadn't deigned to lie to any of them, he found reason enough to believe him.
"And so, after making sure a family made it to Dragonstone- The Targeryan's weren't the only family he forced visions on, just the only one that actually listened- this arrogant pot of an all-great Dragonlord decided to bring about the Doom in a ritual so he could become greater than any dragon. Greater than any of the fourteen flames he once worshiped-" A single beat passed. "He was the Euron Greyjoy-"
The name caused his sister to stiffen immediately, a pale look taking over her face at the mere mention of him.
"-of his time. And this arrogant Dragonlord's name was R'Hllor the former lord of light." A single beat. "Who following your return has officially become the Lord of Roasted Stew!"
Rhaenys seemed to find that funny. The laughter practically made Elia's face shine with happiness.
Truly, Oberyn felt like a genius for having set about this course of events.
Doran should take notes.
"You're very silly!" Rhaenys chuckled merrily. "I don't think you're supposed to say stuff like that!"
"Yeah well, what's he gonna do? Throw a smoked ham at me?"
...
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