Game Of Thrones: Reborn AS Pokémon

Chapter 23

Standing on the balcony of the Red Keep in King's Landing, Robert Baratheon's grip tightened around his goblet of wine as he surveyed the sprawling city below. The sounds of King's Landing reached him, mixing with the distant clang of steel from the training yards. Amidst the noise, his thoughts were consumed by an unsettling vision that had haunted him since the previous night, a vision shared by others in the realm.

The vision featured a boy wielding the ancestral sword of House Targaryen, dancing vividly in his mind. The more he dwelled on it, the more unease crept over him, especially regarding the mysterious entity that had crowned the boy as the king of the realm. The fear emanating from that presence was something unimaginable, a power capable of subduing whether dragon. giants or strange creatures alike standing nearby in the vision. Though he couldn't discern the appearance of the entity, other than its gaze with cross pupils, he was certain it wasn't human.

The boy, wielding a flaming sword, seemed to carry the essence of Rhaegar, a connection that Robert found disturbing. Rhaegar, the man he had envied, hated, and despised the most. Taking a long sip of wine in an attempt to drown his unease, Robert found little solace. Every time he closed his eyes, the image of the boy persisted, stirring unsettling emotions.

As he contemplated the boy, Robert muttered, "Why, why, why that bastard?" The feeling that the boy was somehow related to Rhaegar gnawed at him. Contemplating the potential shift in power within the Seven Kingdoms, Robert muttered, "I won't let the dragon spawn have it."

At that moment, a servant approached, saying, "Your Grace," only to be met with a thrown wine cup from Robert, who bellowed, "Get out." The servant, filled with fear, hastily retreated from the King's side. Robert, accustomed to priding himself on his strength and ability to command, now grappled with a power that surpassed his own, one capable of instilling fear in every man.

While inside the Hand's tower, Eddard couldn't contain the worry swirling inside him. The vision he experienced the night before was beyond his expectations. As someone who had already experienced strange visions, he was certain that what he saw was either about to happen or had already occurred. His concern deepened when he realized he wasn't the only one who had experienced the same vision. What troubled him the most was the image of the boy wielding the flaming sword – he knew that boy was Jon.

Eddard rose from his seat and walked towards the balcony, muttering "Jon." He was certain that it wouldn't be long before another war broke out. At that moment, the door creaked open, and Petyr entered the Hand's office. Eddard looked at Petyr with his usual stern expression.

"Lord Hand," Petyr greeted with his disarming smile, though Eddard saw through the facade.

"Petyr," Eddard acknowledged, his tone measured. "What brings you here?"

"Just passing by, thought I'd see how you're faring. You seem troubled, my lord," Petyr remarked with a widened smile, though his eyes hinted at intrigue, sensing that Eddard was willing to talk.

"Troubled?" Eddard echoed, his tone measured. "It seems the realm is on the brink of change, and not necessarily for the better."

Petyr's smile widened slightly, his eyes betraying a flicker of intrigue. "Change can be a double-edged sword, my lord. It presents both challenges and opportunities," he remarked cryptically, his words laden with hidden meanings.

Eddard's jaw tensed as he considered Petyr's words, his instincts urging caution in the face of uncertainty. "And what opportunities do you foresee, Lord Baelish?" he questioned, his voice edged with skepticism.

Petyr's smile remained enigmatic as he leaned in closer, his gaze locking with Eddard's. "Opportunities for those with the wit and ambition to seize them, my lord," he murmured, his tone laced with a hint of intrigue.

Eddard's eyes narrowed slightly, a sense of unease gnawing at him as he contemplated Petyr's veiled insinuations. "Ambition has its price, Lord Baelish," he cautioned, his voice tinged with warning.

Petyr's smile never faltered as he straightened, his gaze lingering on Eddard's stern countenance. "Indeed it does, my lord. But sometimes, the rewards outweigh the risks," he replied cryptically, before excusing himself from the Hand's office.

Petyr's words didn't make sense to Eddard. He just wanted to know others' thoughts about the vision if they had experienced it. However, Petyr's cryptic statements left him confused, wondering if Petyr was truly speaking about the vision or something else entirely.

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The Freefolk marched towards Storrold's Point, a peninsula beyond the wall near the Shivering Sea, with the intention of reaching Hardhome. None among them were aware of what awaited them in Hardhome, except for the last words spoken by Xerneas to their High King before vanishing from their presence and urging them to journey to Hardhome. Among them, only Brynden was aware of what lay ahead, yet he chose to remain silent, walking alongside Jon, who found it increasingly challenging to maintain his composure under the weight of the attention he received from every corner.

This level of scrutiny was unprecedented for Jon, something he had never experienced before, yet it was also something he had once wished for. However, the reality proved to be overwhelming. Every movement he made was observed by everyone, regardless of age, especially after witnessing Jon tame a colossal dragon, Cannibal, who had nearly killed him in the sky while performing daring stunts without his consent. From time to time, Jon glanced up at Cannibal, who soared through the sky, keeping a vigilant watch for him.

What proved difficult for Jon to accept was the warmth shown by Maester Aemon, who had spent his entire life residing within the Great Wall as a Maester, believing his entire family to have perished before him. Despite Aemon and Brynden appearing youthful, the aura they exuded was enough for Jon to understand the how much of a boy he is. The love, care, and belief they placed in him were qualities he had once expected from his own family, and in many ways still considered them to be.

However, what amused Jon was witnessing the transformation of the once-wise Maester Aemon into a childlike figure in the presence of the hatchlings. Jon was unaware of Aemon's and his brother Aegon's obsession with dragons during their youth, which explained Aemon's fascination with the hatchlings.

Jon glanced around the great cliff on each side as he asked Brynden, "Uncle, do you know why the Lord has sent us to Hardhome?" In response, Brynden said, "It's hard to say, your grace. I believe something might be awaiting us there." Jon felt a bit down about Brynden addressing him as a king since he expected a more familial address. Despite this, he didn't voice his thoughts as he asked, "Uncle, do you know what kind of place Hardhome is?"

Brynden, after giving it some thought, responded, "It was once a free folk settlement. But now, it's nothing more than wilderness and cave mouths." Jon was intrigued and asked, "Why did it become like that?" Aemon answered this time, playing with a hatchling on his shoulder, "Depending on the tale one chooses to believe, Hardhome's people are said to have been carried off into slavery by slavers from across the Narrow Sea or slaughtered for meat by cannibals out of Skagos."

Before Jon could ask further, Cannibal roared at him, flying closer to the ground. Jon, in response, told Brynden, "Baal might have seen something," in a hurry. Brynden tried to calm Jon down, saying, "It's okay, I won't believe there might be any danger. Maybe I should scout to see what Baal has seen." Then Jon said, "I might accompany you." Brynden smiled as a raven flew to his shoulder, "No need, your grace.".

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