Tyrion-
The Giant of Lannister approached his father's domain once more; the tall grass of the Westerlands dwindled to give way to the well-cared-for Seat of Power of House Lannister. The mountain in which he had grown greeted Tyrion and his small retinue miles before his uncle and his family did at the Rock's feet.
Kevan Lannister, his wife Dorna, two of his sons, and little Janei stood at the gates to Casterly Rock to greet Tyrion, all red and gold and all with smiles on their faces, something that made Tyrion's cold heart swell a little. The Dwarf of Casterly Rock remembered a time when no day went by where he didn't wish his father was Kevan or Gerion instead of Tywin.
" Dear Uncle, you are a sight for sore eyes, as is the beautiful Lady Dorna and dear Janei." Tyrion said, purposefully not mentioning his cousins, which made the boys pout silently but as proud noble children, they remained composed.
" Nephew, it is good to see you again… I hope you had time on the road to disregard the foolish reasons which brought you back here." Kevan said, a small smile on his face allowed Tyrion to know his uncle already knew the futility of asking such a question but his duty made him ask so nonetheless.
" I am loath to disappoint you, Uncle, but my time on the road has only made my mind more sure." Tyrion said with a smirk on his face, which earned him a sigh from his uncle. "Now take me to Lannisport, Uncle, I wish to see the Tamrielians for myself." Tyrion demanded to which his uncle merely raised his eyebrow.
" You've been riding for five and ten days… Do you not wish to rest before going about your ways?" Dorna said, her widened eyes showing her surprise at Tyrion's words.
" My mind shall not allow me to rest until I've talked with these Tamrielians myself." Tyrion began his voice cheerful and a large smile on his face " I am also eager to meet the dragon… a talking dragon… Seven above, what does a dragon have to talk about?!" Tyron asked, his mind still reeling at the idea of a talking dragon.
" Many things, cousin… the dragons of that land are thousands of years old…far older than any written records of their land." Willem said suddenly and only his experience in King's Landing allowed Tyrion's mouth to remain shut.
" You have been learning about them…" Tyrion said and Keven nodded. Tyrion then turned to his cousin. " Thousands of years?" Tyrion asked, his voice a little softer from the surprise said knowledge brought him.
" Thousands of years…" Willem replied, his enthusiastic child-nodding making Tyrion smile.
" Well… I shall take Tyrion to Lannisport then." Kevan said as he turned around and looked at an old knight who seemed to be guarding them. " Ser Peckledon, escort my family back into Casterly Rock. I shall accompany Tyrion to Lannisport." Uncle Kevan ordered, and Ser Peckledon nodded solemnly; Dorna kissed her husband on the left cheek and motioned for her children to follow her as she walked towards a carriage, which had most likely been the one they used to ride down the hill below the Rock.
Kevan mounted a horse that had been brought forth moments prior and waited for Tyrion to be helped into his horse.
" So, uncle… the rumours…" Tyrion asked after a few minutes on the road that connected Casterly Rock to Lannisport. Kevan snorted but didn't take long to reply.
" Are most likely watered down… The truth is far… far more impressive than whatever reached King's Landing." Uncle Kevan replied, his voice sounding off in Tyrion's ears, eerily similar to Jon Arryn's whenever the man found a particularly unsolvable problem.
" That sounds ominous… " Tyrion said, to which his uncle snorted once more " So… magic? Is it true they have it, and it is not just parlor tricks?" Tyrion asked, and this time his uncle looked at him and nodded gravely.
" They have it… It is definitely not parlor tricks," Kevan said, and Tyrion smiled at the notion. "They have magic users whose only profession is being a magical soldier, and if the man whose tongue we managed to buy didn't lie, they have entire battalions of them." Kevan said, likely to direct Tyrion to the point he wanted to make or wanted Tyrion to reach.
" You managed to buy one of their men?" Tyrion asked first, his eyebrow raised.
" We managed to buy information… a mere deck boy from their northern land and one of their Cat folk… They admitted the information they were sharing was common knowledge in their land, known to the lowest of beggars and to the mightiest of their foes." Kevan said, and Tyrion nodded.
" And these magic users whose profession is to be magical soldiers, how powerful is their magic"" Tyrion asked and Kevan nodded
" You are finally asking the right questions," Kevan replied with a grunt, and Tyrion grimaced at the tone. " Extremely powerful, Tyrion… Have you seen lightning hitting the land in a storm? It is worse… far worse." Kevan said and Tyrion nodded as if to signal his understanding
" No… you do not understand… But you will. They are surprisingly forthcoming with allowing us to observe them." Kevan said, and Tyrion looked at his uncle with a raised eyebrow.
" I shall see then… and their goods? Cersei has learned of the silk and gems Father acquired; she seemed annoyed at the fact Sybil Westerling has foreign silks and she does not." Tyrion japed and Kevan snorted
" That girl is too self absorbed for a queen… It is a wonder she has not sent Tywin a letter demanding silks for her and her spoiled little stag boy." Kevan began, " Tywin will send you back to King's Landing… He is aware of Cersei's lack of common sense, her penchant to see slights where there are none, and her idiotic ways of paying back said slights. Need I say why such habits need to be curbed before the dragon-riding princess arrives in King's Landing?" Kevan said and Tyrion grimaced at his uncle's words
"And he will send me back for what? Does he think me a magician myself to be able to control Cersei? She is as she is because father allowed it so… He should be the one riding to King's Landing; mayharps the city will not burn in dragonfire if he does so…" Tyrion said, half japing, half serious. The smallest Lannister was certain that if anyone was capable of making the foreign princess so enraged as to destroy King's Landing with a dragon, that someone would be Cersei.
"You underestimate yourself, Tyrion… Your father, for all the… biased opinion he has about you, recognizes you are clever; he knows it, and now more than ever is the time for your cleverness to be used." Uncle Kevan said with a reproachful frown on his face. "Now, this is a talk for other times… tell me about King's Landing… I've heard of the Targaryen girl…" Kevan asked, and Tyrion sighed; his eyes looked forward as he began to tell his uncle everything he knew about the goings in the capital.
Soon Tyrion and Kevan arrived in Lannisport; the walled city looked as glamorous as Tyrion remembered it. Lannister banners hung on the walls like clouds on a stormy day. In the distance, Tyrion saw the mansions and houses with their red roofs and white-limestone walls. The city was bursting with people—far more than usual— and yet, unlike King's Landing, there was still order in the city. Tyrion realized there were also far more red cloaks than usual in the city, no doubt due to the foreign empire's warships docked in the harbor. The ships were massive; the largest of them was easily three times larger than the Bravossi flagship, which used to be the biggest ship in the known world.
"Massive, aren't they?" Uncle Kevan asked after following Tyrion's eyes to the ships.
" Massive. What are those holes in the side with iron rings in them?" Tyrion asked, his eyes trying to make sense of what his eyes saw. Kevan simply shook his head in denial, clearly not knowing the answer.
" It seems like a weapon of some kind, like a scorpion?" Tyrion mumbled to himself. Kevan didn't seem to hear him; his eyes continued to look at the ships.
" A Redwyne ship… it seems the Tamrielians' presence has indeed spread…" Kevan said, and Tyrion chuckled, his eyes seeing one of House Redwyne's ships in the harbor.
"One would think it is just a regular trading vessel… The Tamrielians have been here for almost two moons and the Redwynes do sail up here from time to time…" Tyrion said, his words causing his uncle to look at him skeptically. Seeing his uncle's face, Tyrion shrugged.
When Tyrion and his uncle arrived at the harbor, they were met with a most curious sight. Near the House Redwyne ship, accompanied by two guards each, were Ser Horas Redwyne, heir to the Arbor, a blonde woman, and Loreon Lannister talking. The woman was tall, a little taller than both men; she wore a black-colored full-body tunic with a diamond-shaped dragon on its right sleeve, and from her neck and covering her left arm was a red fabric that flowed down like a wave on her body. She did not look like a lady, nor did she act like one; she walked very similarly to Jamie and a not-drunk Robert. She also had a sword on her hip, Tyrion noticed.
" Who is that woman?" Tyrion asked and Kevan chuckled.
" That is General Seridane Jordis… Currently she is the one who talks in her emperor's name." Kevan replied and Tyrion's eyes widened as he watched the woman speak with both lords.
"A woman general? How Dornish of them!" Tyrion replied sarcastically, which for some reason made his uncle frown.
" Yes…a woman general, an extremely clever one at that." Uncle Kevan began and Tyrion nodded. "She and your father spoke for hours about the soldiers in her fleet and how many of them would be allowed into the city." Kevan finished and Tyrion nodded once again.
As Kevan and Tyrion approached, Loreon, the woman, and Horas turned towards them. The woman looked at Tyrion but the usual disgust was not present; she seemed more curious than horrified at his appearance.
" Lord Tyrion Lannister and Ser Kevan Lannister," Loreon introduced them. His voice was calm and he seemed somewhat content. Tyrion inclined his head at them but said nothing. " These are General Jordis from High Rock of Tamriel and Lord Horas Redwyne, heir to the Arbor." Loran finished and Tyrion smiled at Jordis, who smiled back at him.
" I have met Ser Kevan before, I believe. I have not met Lord Tyrion…" Jordis spoke, and Kevan quickly nodded at her in acknowledgment with a brief "well met."
" It is a pleasure to finally get to meet someone from Tamriel, and a General at that… I find myself lucky these days." Tyrion commented and Horas Redwyne snorted.
" Lord Horas, it's been a long time since I've seen you… The last time I saw you, you were being thrown from your horse after competing against Jamie in the joust." Tyrion began, his words making the Redwyne boy grit his teeth so hard Tyrion thought the man was Stannis's for a second. " How is it that a Lannister, a general, and a Redwyne found themselves together? It sounds like the start of a very good joke, if I may say so…" Tyrion asked, to which the general smiled again and Loreon chuckled.
" Lord Redwyne managed to sell a few barrels of Arbor Gold to our Tamrielic friends; we were negotiating the fees for having their business concluded in Lannisport… And back to that, are we agreed?" Loreon explained and then looked at the Tamrielic woman, who merely nodded. Horas Redwyne also nodded but remained silent; he seemed to resent Tyrion's presence.
" We are agreed, my lord." Horas began as he signaled for one of his men to bring forth two jars of Arbor Gold. " Here is a gift, my lady, one for yourself and one for your emperor." Horas said and the woman smiled as she accepted the jars with grace.
" I thank you, Lord Redwyne, but I must remind you I am not a lady." Jordis said; she was gracious enough to make her words sound elegant, and not even Cersei could take it as a slight. She then turned towards one of her guards " Razelan, bring me two bottle of Dream Madeira…" Jordis commanded, and the guard on the left, much to Tyrion's delight, opened a magic portal, walked inside, and in less than a minute returned with two GLASS bottles and handed both to Horas Redwyne, who, like everyone else, was too stunned to speak, nor did he have the chance, as at that moment a Red Dragon descended from the sky a mile or so from the harbor.
" Lord Nahfahlaar is here it seems…" Jordis spoke and Tyrion saw the pride in her eyes as she saw their gaping faces. He understood, he really did; as a son of House Lannister, he more than most understood the pride one felt in knowing they were superior. The dragon broke the mile-long distance in less than half a minute, and what a massive beast it was, as big as one of the Tamrielic ships. Tyrion managed to remove his eyes from the dragon and managed to look at his uncle, whose expression of horror seemed to war with that of awe. The dragon then landed gently, gentler than it should've been possible for a beast of that size, on one of the nearby walls that held firm the dragon's weight as if it was nothing. It then looked at Tyrion and those near him.
" Greetings, mortals…" Nahfahlaar rumbled, his voice sounding like a landslide in the Vale of Arryn, powerful and ancient. The dragon's red scales moved mesmerizingly, almost like an illusion, as it turned its head to look at the men gathered around. The moment the dragon's eyes laid on Tyrion, it turned in confusion. " What manner of being are you, mortal? The Thuri's stray claimed there was no other race but the race of muz.. men... in this gol truk... landmass…" The dragon said, its words making Tyrion's heart skip a beat; even dragons found him unpleasant to look at, it seems, but with learned and practiced ease, he smiled at the dragon.
" Merely a man, Lord Nahfahlaar." Tyrion began speaking in a carefree tone, despite the awe he felt. "I am Tyrion Lannister, son of Lord Tywin Lannister… Short in stature, grand in wit. A man… albeit one who can drink five times his weight in wine." Tyrion replied, the dragon's eyes narrowed, and he moved closer as if to take a better look at Tyrion.
" There is no curse upon you, joor…" The dragon said as it moved back away, "Your divine of motherhood is den finmul… lacking, it seems. But Lannister, you said? I am charged to be representative of my Thuri's will in your kingdom…" Nahfahlaar said he then turned to the other men present.
" You will excuse my lack of introduction, joors… mortals." The dragon began, his voice letting all present know it was not a request, " A mystery is to a immortal what death is to a mortal… unresistible… I am Nahfahlaar, Tiberius Octum's proud subject and loyal vassal." Nahfahlaar said and Tyrion smiled at the dragon's words but he remained silent as he had already introduced himself.
" I am Loreon Lannister, Steward of Lannisport, head of House Lannister of Lannisport." Loreon said as he bowed to the dragon; the gesture seemed quite natural.
" I am Horas Redwyne, of House Redwyne of the Arbor…" Horas began, his voice cracking a few times, "In the Reach." He said after he gained a questioning look from the dragon.
" I am Ser Kevan Lannister, brother to Lord Tywin… I welcome you to Lannisport and to the Westerlands." Kevan said and the dragon nodded. Tyrion wondered if his father would stand so proud under such being's scrutiny; the seven above knew the entirety of Lannisport was not.
Ned-
The crisp morning breeze of Winterfell's courtyard carried the scent of pine and frost, brushing against Ned Stark's face as he stood before the Tamrielic Wayshrine. The strange device—a circle of rune-etched stone glowing faintly blue—hummed with an otherworldly energy that set Ned's nerves on edge, though he kept his expression as steady as the ancient walls around him. Beside him, Jon stood tall, his archmage's robes a stark contrast to the furs and leathers of the Stark household. Catelyn, Robb, Sansa, Arya, Bran, and little Rickon flanked Ned, their breaths misting in the cold air, each watching the Wayshrine with a mix of curiosity and wariness.
The Wayshrine flared brighter, and a Khajiit—half-man, half-cat, with fur the color of moonlit snow—stepped through, his armored boots surprisingly silent on the stone. He moved aside, standing sentinel as six human Blades followed, their ebony armor glinting. One stepped forward, his voice booming across the courtyard. "Presenting Her Highness, Princess Calanye Octum, youngest daughter of His Majesty the Emperor, Master Mage by the University of Alinor, third in line for the Ruby Throne, and ambassador of Tamriel to the Iron Throne of Westeros."
The soldiers and mages knelt as one, save for Jon and the Blades, who remained upright, eyes sharp. Ned's hand tightened briefly on Ice's hilt, a reflex born of years facing the unknown, but he forced it to relax. This was no enemy—Jon had vouched for her, and Ned trusted his son's honor, even if this new world of magic and empires tested his understanding. The Wayshrine pulsed, and Calanye Octum appeared. She was tall, nearly Ned's height, her black silk gown adorned with white fur trim that flowed like a winter stream under moonlight. A ruby circlet gleamed on her brow, and a sapphire amulet at her chest matched the piercing blue of her eyes. Her beauty rivaled the Lannister woman, but where the queen's gaze held veiled contempt, Calanye's was warm, assessing, and curious, taking in Winterfell with a faint smile. She raised a hand, and the kneeling Tamrielians rose with little fanfare.
Ned stepped forward, his boots crunching on the frost-dusted stone. He met Calanye's gaze, seeing in her eyes a strength that reminded him of a strange mix of Catelyn's resolve and Jon's quiet power. As Lord of Winterfell, he knew his greeting must honor her status, affirm his authority, and extend the North's hospitality while signaling his caution toward this foreign empire.
"Your Highness, Princess Calanye of Tamriel, I am Eddard Stark, Lord of Winterfell and Warden of the North. On behalf of my house and the people of these lands, I bid you welcome to Winterfell. I offer you the guest rights of my hearth, the protection of my walls, and the friendship of my hall for as long as you abide here. May our meeting forge bonds of alliance between our peoples," Ned spoke, his voice firm, unwavering like the Wall in the northernmost part of his domain. This empire was powerful, as Valyria was, but the Starks were of the First men and the First Men endure; they endured since long before the Valyrian empire began and still endure centuries after they have been gone.
Veyron, the Stark household's steward, approached with a wooden tray bearing a loaf of dark bread and a bowl of salt. Ned took the loaf, broke it, and offered a piece to Calanye, who accepted it with a graceful nod. She dipped it in the salt and ate, her eyes never leaving Ned's, a gesture that sealed the ancient pact of guest right.
"I accept your hospitality and guest right, Lord Stark," Calanye said, her voice melodious, flowing, almost like a song. "Your home is as impressive as Jon described… It reminds me of Skyrim, my father's land, where one is bold and blunt even in construction." She said as she smiled, the expression made her look even prettier than when she held a neutral face.
"Your praise honors us, Princess. Jon has told me of Skyrim's people, and I see their strength in you. Allow me to present my family." Ned said, a small flicker of pride entering his tone. He gestured to his side. "My lady wife, Catelyn Stark, and our children: Robb, my heir; Sansa, our eldest daughter; Arya, Bran, and Rickon, our youngest."
Catelyn curtsied, her face composed but her eyes aware, studying Calanye. Robb bowed, his expression friendly and honest, while Sansa's curtsy was graceful, her gaze wide with awe at the princess's gown. Arya fidgeted, barely managing a nod, and Bran and Rickon offered shy bows. Calanye nodded to each, her smile softening as she met their eyes.
" Jon… you have grown." The princess said, her voice remarkably lighter, as if addressing an old friend—which, as far as Ned knew, was the truth.
" So have you… grown more beautiful, I mean." Ned heard his son say, Jon looked at ease in her presence, not that he had ever looked not at ease ever since he had arrived. Jon's comment was rewarded with a smile, not a shy one as Ned expected, but a simple smile.
" You flatter me… I like that; keep at it ." The princess japed, making an exaggeratedly fake smug expression, even turning her head to the side and bringing her nose up, and Jon laughed quietly at it. Ned felt a small smile appear on his face at his son's interaction with the princess. It completely broke any tension in the courtyard.
" Come, Princess, warm and refreshment awaits you in my Great Hall…" Ned began, his small smile growing unknowingly as he looked at Calanye and Jon. The Princess nodded and she fell in step with Ned. Jon followed, his presence appreciated by both Ned and the princess, with Catelyn, Sansa, and Robb close behind. Arya, Bran, and Rickon trailed after Veryon. As they crossed the courtyard, the princess's eyes took in every little detail.
" Your castle is a work of art… For how long has it stood?" The princess asked, her eyes lingering on what used to be the broken tower.
" Eight thousand years… give or take… as long as House Stark." Ned said and the princess gasped. It was a charming thing, given how sudden it was.
" When Jon told me your civilization was old, I did not think it would be this old…" The Princess said and Ned nodded in pride.
The feast House Stark prepared for the princess was received with gratefulness, Ned realized after the first few hours. Calanye Octum was a consummate conversationalist. She could be formal enough to engage in talks with Cat, womanly enough to engage with Sansa, witty enough to manage Arya, rough enough to banter with Robb and Jon, and wise enough to engage with Ned himself.
" So I've been informed you have been deemed skilled enough to become a master at destruction magic," Jon said, his voice managing to reach Ned despite the noise in the hall.
" I have… two more schools to go and I shall become an Archmage." The princess replied, her voice calm, yet there was a gleam in her eyes: "But before that, I would like to test myself against your magic… A spar... what say you, Jon?" Calanye asked and Jon laughed; his laugh did not seem to be mocking and the princess appeared to have taken it in high spirits.
" Well, I don't a reason to refuse… Tomorrow, then?" Jon asked and the princess gave him a radiant smile. Ned looked at Cat, whose face was paler than snow in winter. She, like him, had heard of the challenge, but unlike Ned, she seemed to find it a bad idea. Ned thought the spar between two pinnacles of magic would be enlightening; it would at least give Ned an idea about how powerful magic could be in combat.
Soon morning came and it found Ned ready to witness the spar between Jon and Calanye. Ned stood on one of the Great Keep balconies that overlook the Courtyard. When he arrived, both Jon and the princess were already there. As were all the other mages, alchemists, and Blades. They each seemed to be creating barriers; Ned imagined it was to contain any stray spells and the like.
" Ned… you must stop this. If this girl is hurt here…" Catelyn said, surprising Ned. He looked at her and saw the concern in her eyes. He smiled at her and kissed her forehead.
"I don't think there will be a problem, Cat. Her guards did not seem to oppose the idea and Jon was taught by the girl's father." Ned said, and Cat seemed to want to argue; she was not allowed to do so, as Jon and Calanye seemed to be ready to start their sparring.
" You may start." Ned heard Volanaro speak and immediately Calanye launched a lightning bolt at Jon. It was so bright and fast Ned thought that had been it; he had lost his son again. But when Ned looked at where Jon was, he only saw a big hole in the ground. Jon, however, had appeared to Calanye's left, intact and already mid-cast.
From the ground, four animated statues made of ice appeared. The statues were a half-bull man, a knight, a unicorn, and a wolf. The unicorn galloped towards the princess, intent on gorging her, followed by the wolf that prowled silently as if waiting for the perfect opportunity. The princess dealt with the unicorn by sending two spells at it at once; one was a fireball and the other lightning.
The princess released the fireball first and then the lightning, and both spells struck simultaneously, obliterating the ice unicorn statue. However, during the time it took for this to happen, the wolf lunged at her but missed as she vanished in a burst of flame, reappearing behind Jon.
Jon must have sensed something, as the ice knight leapt between him and the princess, capturing a lightning bolt at close range. Despite this, the knight stayed upright, attempting to strike the princess with a backhand punch. The princess met fist with fist, but the result was not what Ned expected, for the ice knight shattered into a thousand pieces. The princess had no time to attack Jon as the bull-man attempted to cleave her in half with the Ice axe it held, but the princess simply raised her hands and the bull-man was blasted back by a veritable firestorm. The princess then attempted to attack Jon but was interrupted by the ice wolf, who had secretly sneaked up on her and bit the arm she was planning on using to cast.
" FEIN" The princess shouted; her form became ghostlike, and the wolf's jaw, which was previously on her wrist, passed through her as if she weren't there. She remained like that for a few seconds; she neither moved her arms or legs but suddenly a ring of blue flames surrounded her like a barrier. Jon, who seemed to be calm and even playful before, suddenly became attentive, and a second later the same blue flame ring appeared around him. Calanye Octum moved her hands up and down like a bavossi opera leader and the flames awoke; they danced like an unholy mixture of water and fire, too beautiful and too deadly, Ned guessed. The flames moved on the two remaining statues first; the moment the flames touched them, they were burned to blue ashes and disappeared. She then flung the spell at Jon, who simply did the same; both blue flames met in the middle and intertwined, but then Jon moved both his hands down, extinguishing both spells at once. Jon, in the same second, launched a lightning bolt at Calanye, whose widened eyes betrayed her surprise, but at the last moment she managed to raise a silver, transparent magic shield; the shield absorbed the lightning with a bell-like sound and then there was silence.
" Do you not seek to win? Above such ambitions are you?" The Princess asked and for the first time she seemed annoyed at Jon, who simply shrugged.
" I could've defeated you six different times before… Do you think me incapable of casting other spells while controlling my ice constructs? I am an archmage, Calanye Octum, a master at alteration; I stand above such limitations." Jon said smugly, as if quoting someone.
" You even throw my father's words at me." Calanye said the mirth was visible in her face. " You might be the son my father never had, but I am his daughter…" She finished as she summoned a her familiar, which appeared as a giant serpent, taller than Winterfell's walls, but it seam the Princess wasn't done as she opened her mouth " YOL TOOR SHUUL" She shouted again, the torrent of fire hit her own familiar and the ghostly serpent transformed into a fiery serpent that lunged at Jon immediately. Jon looked at it incredulously and threw a purple spell at it; the effects were immediate—the serpent disappeared but the fire remained. Jon pointed one of his hands at Calanye and another at the fire. From the hand pointed at Calanye sprung a larger version of the shield the princess had used before and it absorbed the storm of spells. Jon then moved the other hand like a lasso and the fire in the air became a whip that promptly encircled the princess.
" I yield." The princess said, and immediately the fire whip disappeared in the air. The other mages looked at Jon and Calanye as if they had never seen such a display before. Jon looked no worse than before, as if the whole thing did not bother him. Calanye Octum looked winded but otherwise unharmed, except for her wrist, which Master Volanaro seemed to heal quickly.
" That was…" Cat began, her face as white as clouds.
" Educational… very educational," Ned finished for her. He had his answer, magic was powerful beyond what Westeros could even imagine.