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123 AC, King's Landing
In the distance, a young man walked with a white Direwolf beside him, staring at the dome of darkness forming around King's Landing. He turned towards the owl that was almost giving him a demanding look, and released an exasperated huff, "Well, Harry did say that it wasn't going to be boring."
Cregan Stark had privately wished never to hear from Harry Potter once more. Oh, he had gained much from their time together, from their discovery of his ancestor's crypts, to stopping the possibility of a second Long Night, which would have brought down the world of man. The North was now unilaterally his own, with none of the previous politicking that plagued his Uncle Bennard's regency remaining. Even Bennard's sons were wary of him now, given his status and his unspoken deeds.
He had once dreamt of returning to Winterfell triumphant against a great enemy, perhaps an evil dragon of some sort, and being celebrated alongside his ancestor, and yet, when he had done the same, he had felt tired.
The praise had soon turned very tiresome, and the songs which were spreading like wildfire in his own kingdom started to grate on his nerves, especially when his baseborn sister, Sara, discreetly hired people to sing them in his hall. He was sure it was revenge for not taking her with him beyond the Wall, though he did not regret that part. What happened there was a nightmare beyond his wildest imagination, and he would not have wished to subject his sister to the burden of knowing what almost befell them.
Then again, he understood the reason for his subject's awe. Cregan had gone alone beyond the Wall while the possibility of a Wildling incursion was a real possibility, and in a few days, he returned, with a Direwolf by his side, and the sword of Bran the Builder, having braved a day when the sun simply did not rise for an entire day, with the world suffering from a day of winter that they had not seen in living memory, and claiming that the issue with the Wildlings had been resolved.
And he had been correct, as well. Without the threat of the Others, the Wildlings returned home, with very few raiders willing to risk their luck in his kingdom, which often ended with their quick deaths, as he still kept the castles south of the Wall reinforced for that exact purpose.
Cregan didn't think that anyone truly knew what truly happened North of the Wall, at least the extent of battling the Others and the Night King. And yet, there had been whispers, likely from the mouths of Wildings of all people, about his feats. The fact that he never confirmed or denied anything likely helped the rumours spread even further.
And now, people whispered when they saw him, speaking of him as if he were Bran the Builder reborn, and very few people were even willing to stand up to him. Except for one, of course, which made this situation all the more maddening, "I will be going with you, Cregan."
The Lord of the North gave his sister a blunt look while still looking at the shroud of darkness rising around King's Landing. Sara continued, "I can help, and I would forgive you for leaving me while you went North of the Wall."
Cregan wished to growl but nodded. He saw no point in arguing, not when it was obvious that time was of the essence and Sara would do as she wished anyway, "Very well."
He turned towards his men, all of whom watched the darkening dome with pale faces, especially that of Arthor Karstark, who had been one of Bennard's greatest supporters as his uncle's wife was a Karstark by birth.
And yet, despite this, they would fight for him; he knew that, but Cregan was unwilling to risk their lives, not for House Targaryen of all people. He turned to them and commanded, "We must investigate this. Lord Umber, take five men with you, and cover us. Lord Karstark, you are to remain here, in case this is a trap of some sort. You have command over the rest of the guards; ensure that nothing foul occurs."
Cregan pretended not to see the relief on Karstark's face, nor the bloodthirsty grin on Hother Umber's face. Instead, he simply walked towards the Capital, from which the Smallfolk were fleeing through the gates in pure and utter terror at what occurred in the Capital.
For what felt like the hundredth time, Cregan wondered why he accepted Harry Potter's invitation to Viserys Targaryen's Grand Tourney. It felt like a frivolous event of fake chivalry, while everyone schemed to get a marginal increase in influence for their house. Cregan disliked it on principle, to say the least, and planned on sending a bannerman or two, perhaps even his cousins, to go in his stead, while he ensured that the Wall would be protected.
And yet, when the sorcerer's strangely intelligent snowy owl had flown directly to him and given him a letter, telling him that it would be for the North's benefit that they come to this tourney, and also the exact day where he should leave Winterfell, Cregan had set asides his misgivings or the potential for another of the Potters' 'adventures' to occur. He had put together a small delegation and came alongside the owl, which had refused to leave his side ever since.
It was obvious that Harry Potter had wished for him to come at this exact moment, that he wished for him to interfere in whatever was occurring. Yet the man was nowhere to be seen.
Speaking of the bird, as they approached the walls, ready to climb it, the owl released a silver glow pushing them upwards, making them land on the other side of the wall. His sister had a wide smile on her face as it happens, and he could almost imagine her whooping alongside her hound had the situation been any different. The guards accompanying him and Hother Umber gave frightened looks at the bird in question, which was, of course, overtaken as a giant reptilian-like dark creature leapt towards them with its six clawed hands ready to kill them.
Cregan immediately called Ice to him, relishing in the burst of strength his ancestral sword gave him, before skewering the animal in a burst of speed, with the giant creature dissipated away into shadows as it died.
"What in the Seven Hells is that?" Umber growled behind him.
"Monsters," Cregan said, choosing to give this answer instead of telling them that he had no idea, "But not ones with blood in their veins, and obviously not mighty enough to withstand the might of the Northman."
His companions were appeased, perhaps even enthusiastic about the coming, because of his words, so he thought that he likely did a good job at it. Of course, whatever reply they had was set aside when Sara's hound started to bark, followed by Ghost growling. Cregan was familiar enough with them to know that they were bound to be attacked.
Immediately, Sara's eyes turned white as she Skinchanged into her faithful hound to attack an incoming dark boar. Cregan did not have the time to envy her skill in Skinchanging compared to his own middling talent, and instead, focused on the incoming shape of a large lion. Ghost leapt into the air, biting its neck off, while Cregan enhanced himself with his weapon's power, quickly cut the creature's legs, and ran his sword into its skull.
He turned around and saw the rest of his men eagerly bashing the heads of hounds of shadows, while Sara used her Weirwood bow in conjunction with her warging to slay many of their attackers. It had not taken long before there were no traces of them around them. The few remaining smallfolk looked at them in awe and gratefulness, but one main thought ran through Cregan's mind.
It was too easy.
It was one thing for him to be able to slay the creatures of shadows, but another for his guards, who, without any magic, would be able to do so as well. The creatures were dangerous, but also fragile.
Every instinct he had with these kinds of battles, which he had learned from his battles against the Others, told him that they were a distraction, but he couldn't help but wonder what they were being distracted from.
He turned to Sara and spoke up, "Any chance you could give us eyes from the sky?"
Sara nodded, and her eyes turned white once more, likely Skinchanging through some kind of bird, which she seemed to have gotten much better at since the Night King's death. After a few moments, her eyes returned to normal, and she answered, "The city is being evacuated. The City Watch is fighting them off from the Smallfolk. But the creatures are larger and stronger the closer they are to the Red Keep."
Cregan cursed but followed forward, "It seems that we have two dragons to save."
Inwardly, Cregan wished that they would arrive before the strange dome of darkness completely swallowed the sun. He disliked the possibility of it occurring.
His guards seemed very enthused to continue killing the creatures, and so, they made their way to the Red Keep, slaying each creature that opposed them, though Sara did most of the work, both in detecting them with her Skinchanging and killing them with her bow. He heard Lord Umber grumbling about it many times during their journey.
Of course, it was when they approached the throne room that he heard the screaming. Without even thinking, he ran inside and looked up to see a gigantic dragon leap down at them. It was larger than it could have been to fit inside the Throne Room, and Cregan noticed that most of it seemed to be made of smoke, to fit in and out of the creature.
In the meantime, many knights were seemingly trying to kill the dragon, to no avail, as the creature seemed utterly impervious to their weapons. Most nobles scattered around the room in fear, with the Kingsguard, as shown by their white cloaks, forming a wall to surround their king. Though one of them was hiding behind a pillar in fear, making Cregan sneer at the dishonour.
The Lord of the North turned to his companions and growled, "Ensure that they are well. I'll handle the beast."
Right before he prepared to run at the creature, he saw a boy with Valyrian colouring and one eye, running with a Valyrian Steel sword in his hand, and stabbed the creature in the leg. The dragon hissed in pain and opened his maw to breathe his fire.
Cregan decided that it was enough, and he let his weapon's might envelop him, running at blinding speed, holding his sword protectively like a shield. A great shockwave turned everything around him to dust, which solidified into a shield of pure white light that withstood the corrupted dragon's flames.
The boy looked at him in surprise and gratefulness, after which Cregan bellowed, "Where the fuck are your dragons?"
After all, dragons would be very effective against such a threat. He still remembered the one that they battled in Hardhome, and it was a terrifying foe indeed.
The boy coughed before answering, "In the Dragonpit."
Cregan wondered whose idiotic idea this was, to chain all of their dragons despite the possibility of an emergency. However, now was not the time for any of that. He turned towards the boy and commanded, "I'll stagger it when it goes down. Go on the left, try to hit the neck if you can."
He nodded, and as the dragon dove towards them, Cregan released a powerful shockwave using his sword, which staggered the creature. He then leapt in the air to meet the surprised monster in the chest, who screeched in pain, and bent its long neck, ready to kill them. Thankfully, Cregan easily avoided the blow, allowing the Targaryen boy to land another hit on the creature.
The young Stark landed next to Ghost, and he felt a pain pull inside him, starting from his sword. He instinctively let the white shroud that empowered him cover his Direwolf as well, who seemingly grew in size and howled as he ran with impossible speeds towards the dragon, biting it in the neck.
Seeing that he would likely not have a better chance at finishing things, he ran towards the dragon, his sword lighting up like a second sun in the room, and jumped into the air, cutting the dragon's neck in two.
He fell down, with Ghost landing next to him, and carefully looked as the dragon's body faded away into motes of darkness. The Targaryen boy gave him a respectful look before running to the King, and kneeling, "I return Blackfyre to you, Father."
The King's hard expression softened, "You have done well, Aemond. We will speak of your rash actions later, but for now, you have done House Targaryen proud."
The boy, Aemond, seemed happy despite the scolding, but Cregan was not one to care for the private matters of the royal family. And so, he simply knelt, "Your grace."
"May we thank you for your timely intervention, Lord Stark," Viserys Targaryen finished, his voice stern yet undeniably shaken. "Whatever this abomination was, it sought my blood. And perhaps more than that. I have been told of your exploits in the Far North, and it seems like the tales have understated your prowess. House Targaryen owes you a great debt, twice over, if I am not mistaken."
Most looked confused at the king's words, but not Cregan. In fact, his eyes widened as he did not expect the man to know of the happenings beyond the wall, but he was not one to deny a royal boon: "I only did my duty as Lord of the North, your grace."
"You have more than exceeded them. Do you know the nature of the threat we face?"
Cregan shook his head, "Nay. We came with haste when we saw the skies above King's Landing darken by some unseen force."
Before the king could answer, Cregan's medallion started to hum softly. Potter had changed it to do so in the presence of foreign magic, as the Night's King was dead, making it a useful item to pass down to his descendants.
He felt himself narrowing down its source, and without hesitation, he grabbed his sword and threw it just a few feet from the King. The Kingsguard moved to act, but Cregan was not concerned. Instead, he continued, "However, I would bet my sword that he would have some answers to our questions."
Everyone looked and saw the shadows in the corner coalesce into a figure that was impaled by Cregan's ancestral sword, its light stopping him from healing it. Immediately, everyone stiffened, though they stopped pointing their swords at him, and instead focused on the mage.
It was the figure of a man wearing dark robes and a strange, lacquered mask. He recognised the description; it was a Shadowbinder from Asshai, who was coughing black blood which his sword purged immediately.
He walked forward towards the beast, having many questions, but he allowed the King to do so at first. Viserys Targaryen, who was known to be a jovial man, was enraged in a manner that likely no one in his court had ever seen, especially as many of them had stiffened before his gaze
"Why did you attack us?" Viserys demanded, "What else have you planned?"
The Shadowbinder trembled, black ichor hissing where Ice's light touched him, but still tried to lift a hand in some half-formed spell. The gesture died as quickly as it formed, as Cregan used his connection to his sword to unravel it immediately.
For some reason, the man released a bitter laugh, "I… thought… that I would have had the easiest… role. I did not… expect… a legacy of… the old world to remain… in these magicless lands."
Despite the whispers around them, the King continued, "What does Asshai gain from this but the enmity of House of the Dragons, where your city falls to Fire and Blood?"
"Asshai… has already fallen… Death's scourge… ravaged our city."
Death's scourge…
Given the timeline and what occurred North of the Wall, Cregan would guess that it likely had something to do with Harry releasing Death onto the world. They had spoken of Asshai occasionally during their walks there, and the sorcerer had claimed that many Shadowbinders were immortal by stealing the lifeforce of others, whatever that was.
Perhaps with Death being free, these stolen lives became less effective. It made sense, "You killed each other."
He did not realise that he had spoken, but the Shadowbinder's eyes widened in shock, and he continued, "You killed each other to survive after your foul ways were lost to you. You destroyed your own city…"
The Shadowbinder's reaction told him that he was on the right path. The question remained as to why they came to Westeros in the first place. Perhaps it was revenge against Harry?
No, that did not fit. They would not do it so publicly, and he didn't think that anyone knew that Harry would come to the Capital. It wasn't a ritual to slay a city… The Smallfolk were allowed to leave the ritual. There was one thing in King's Landing that was nowhere else, and Cregan's eyes widened in realisation, "The dragons. You wish to drain the dragons of their lives."
The Shadowbinder then muttered, "Too late now… Our legacy… shall not… end here… For our shadows… are endless…"
And then the Shadowbinder's skin shrivelled away until its body looked almost as if it had been left to rot, leaving nought but skin, bones, a mask, and singed dark clothes.
The Lord of the North turned to the king, "If they wished to drain your dragons, Your Grace, then it means their magicks are not finished. These creatures were meant to delay us."
Viserys looked pale, but steadier than expected. "Then we must reach the Dragonpit at once."
Cregan nodded and readied himself, his guards being bolstered by half of the nobles of the Red Keep, at least the ones who had a sword with them. Even that cowardly Kingsguard had returned, though people often looked at him in betrayal and disgust.
Sara walked beside him, and he knew that asking her to stop would be an exercise in futility. Instead, he looked at the white owl, which landed above Ghost's head. He had almost forgotten about it, and with that realisation, a question started to occupy his mind: Where was Harry Potter?
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AN: I had fun writing this chapter. I wanted Cregan to appear badass to everyone in the realm, walking in with a direwolf and a magic sword, killing a shadow dragon and a Shadowbinder. As for the Shadowbinders, I don't know if I showed it completely well, but the idea is that, like the Red Priests, their rituals to extend their lives became very inefficient when Harry released Death onto the world.
They immediately started to kill each other, trying to steal each other's lifeforce, until all of the city was dead, and a handful remained, who thought that using dragons' lifeforces could work to mitigate the fact. I know that the shadow monsters are a bit underwhelming, but they're distractions done on purpose to prevent anyone from going to the Dragonpit.
Harry and Daphne's actions are also littered across the chapter, but pretty subtly, though it'll get clearer what they did in the future. As usual, please let me know what you think and if you have any suggestions.
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If you want to support me, check out my patréon at https://www.patréon.com/athassprkr
I tend to upload drafts of early chapters on there to get people's opinions on them, so you can read up to 20 chapters ahead as a bonus.
Thank you guys for your support in these hard times.