Chereads / Reborn Into Game Of Thrones With A Long Name / Chapter 3 - Ch 3 The Long Marché

Chapter 3 - Ch 3 The Long Marché

A messenger had long since been dispatched to Inform Lord Tyrell of the situation while the Town healer did his best so the Young noble of unknown origin could survive but despite the primitive medical efforts which may have killed a normal man the young noble persisted without issue apart from remaining unconscious.

Ser Norton stood beside his pregnant wife Marla, the youngest daughter of a merchant as their daughter poked the sleeping white haired man on his face.

"Elise leave that noble alone girl." Marla spoke before continuing to speak with her husband until the little girl decided to open one of the sleeping mans eyes for no particular reason.

"AHHHH!!!!!!" Their daughter screeched and ran away crying upon gazing at the viper like slitted golden eyes.

Her father's hand instantly went for his sword but he stopped upon realizing the stranger was still entirely unconscious.

Meanwhile Marla walked over to her daughter and held her snugly while

trying to see what was wrong.

"DWEAMON MAMA DWEAMON!!!" the little girl screamed out loud.

Eventually they got her to say what happened and walked over to the sleeping young noble to see for themselves.

Marla soon used her thumb to open one of the unconscious young mans eyes and recoiled a bit in fear.

"Are you sure it's safe to have him in here?" Marla asked before pulling away from the young man who all of a sudden looked far less like a handsome twink and more like something out of nightmares.

"We'll get that old Septon to pray over him just in case....also remember It was the Ironborn on his ship not the other way around." Ser Norton spoke, He was usually quite good at being a judge of character and the young man didn't strike him as evil in the slightest even after seeing what he'd likely done on the ship.

And so a few more days passed in without much fanfare. . . .

[MC POV] [Unknown Time Later]

Fading in and out of consciousness was not a nice thing but eventually I came to atop a straw bed, inside of a small cozy room with cobblestone walls and a wooden floor.

"Where the hell am I now....." I spoke with a sigh, I was Pleased to see my sword leaning against the bed while my pendant still hung at my neck.

I didn't have too much energy so simply remained in bed, It was a few hours before the room's door was pulled open slightly.

I spotted a child peeking through before letting out a scream and running off.

"PAAPA!!! MAMA!!! DA DWEAMON IS AWIVE!!!!" I heard the little girls muffled shouts which leaked in from under the doorsill.

Then heavy bootsteps resounded and reached the doorway just outside.

"Alright Elise, Go with your mother now, Papa will be busy for a bit." I heard the man speaking to his daughter.

Before long the door was pushed open to reveal a tall man in his 30s, dressed in fine but simple green clothes, a deep scar accented his rugged face over his right eye.

"I see you're finally awake...how do you feel?" The man dressed in finely made but simple clothes, A bastard sword and dagger hanging from his belt.

"How Long Was I Without Consciousness?" I asked, my own voice sounding strange to me due to the strange accent with which common tongue emerged.

"Six days, strangely fast recovery for someone with your wounds.....Speaking of, How did you get them?" The Man asked while looking straight in my eyes.

"Some...Unwelcome Pests...Boarded My Ship, I merely met their hospitality in kind....They were lucky I was unarmored." I spoke with some disdain which brought a smirk to the tall knights face.

He stuck his hand out to shake mine.

"Ser Illian Norton, Knight In Service Of Lord Tyrell, You're currently in my humble keep." He spoke respectfully after getting the notion that I wasn't some rabid demon like my eyes had led his young daughter to believe.

I instantly reached out and shook his hand.

"Aestorius Sallerich Von' Drakkon, Last And Full Blooded Heir of House Drakkon, Current Keeper Of Tir Tochair...and little else." I spoke while shaking his hand, I would've paid to see his expression upon hearing my words 

"House Drakkon...Is that some kind of Volantene noble house?" He asked, A reasonable assumption judging by my hair but I had to not know about Volantis to play my part eh?

And so the tale which Theda had spun was weaving itself quite easily.

Before Long I explained to Ser Illian how there was another land across the 'Sunset Sea', A Sea considered impassable due to the sea serpents who patrolled the waters and frequent violent storms.

"If It's Impassable How'd you get through? and why would you go?" He asked curiously.

"War...We Fought, We Lost....Now I'm all that is left of my House." I spoke and a deep pain was felt in my heart even though I knew the story was not true....Almost as if It were true.

"My condolences....Do you plan to return?" He asked to which I simply shook my head.

"Nothing left there for me, Just me and Tir Tochair now....And If I Die The Sword Dies As Well Since Only A Drakkon May Wield It." I spoke 

"Ah, That damn thing....I tried taking a look at it and it seared my damn hand....We had to grab it by the scabbard to take it off your person." He spoke then showed me his palm which looked as if some skin had bubbled off.

"Sorry about that, She really hates when people other than me try to use her." I spoke and I could have sworn the sword hummed in response but Ser Norton didn't seem to notice anything.

"Well Aestorius, Don't let me keep you up too long." Ser Norton Spoke before leaving the room.

The next morning Ser Norton Arrived with His Wife And Daughter, It was proper etiquette to have an introduction after all.

"I have brought my Wife and Daughter to make their introductions. This is my wife Marla." Ser Norton spoke and Marla bowed herself respectfully.

"Well met madame, My sincerest apologies that I cannot rise to greet you." I spoke respectfully which earned much goodwill from her after realizing I wasn't pompous or arrogant as the vast majority of young nobles were.

"And This little angel is Elise, My firstborn daughter.....She thought you were a demon after peeking at your eyes while you slept which I deeply apologize for." Ser Norton spoke with a small bow of his head.

"Not a demon little princess, But a Dragon....Although this Dragon is a little injured right now." I spoke which brought a big smile to the little girls face,

"YOUS A DWAGON? CWAN YOU SHOOT FWIRE?" She asked excitedly but was interrupted by he mother.

"Alright that's enough questions, the young Lord is tired Elise." Marla spoke while guiding her daughter away.

"The Healer should be here soon, I've sent some of my men to escort him here.....He's a disrespectful old coot but does his job well so I don't get after him." Ser Norton spoke as if warning me of what to expect.

Eventually A wrinkly old bag in a tattered beige robe shuffled in with an upset look on his face.

"You should be dead.....Not even any pus in those wounds! either putrid or healthy.....It's just not right!" The Healer spoke with an upset tone in his voice before starting to re-dress my wounds.

"Would you rather I have died Old Man?" I asked the wrinkly healer but he just waved my words away and finished his work before grumbling his complaints to Ser Illian on his way out.

"What a strange old man." I spoke which drew a smirk from the knight.

"He's right you know....You should be dead." He spoke while looking over at me.

Ser Illian had seen every single wound clear as day and there was no doubt in his mind that the blood loss or wounds festering would have seen me dead within days but now it was a few days later and the mortal wounds seemed to be nearly entirely closed.....Truly an unnatural thing.

"Well, Don't let me keep you too long.....Rest well." Ser Illian spoke before taking his leave, The Knight Needed to send His Lord Another Letter, This was much more than important enough for his liege lord to hear.

[Even More Days Later] [Mc Pov]

One Evening Ser Illian barged into the room with a small scroll in his hand.

"I truly hope your wounds are as healed as they look lest you fall apart on our ride to Highgarden come the morning." Ser Illian spoke before tossing me the scroll.

[Ser Norton, Come To Highgarden With This Aestorius Sallerich Von' Drakkon So He may make My Acquaintance, Make Haste.- Lord Luthor Tyrell, Lord Paramount Of The South.]

"I thought Mace Tyrell was the High Lord Of These Lands." I spoke upon spotting the name at the end.

"Mace? That Foo....Ahem....I mean Lord Mace Is Next In Line, Lord Luthor Is His Father." Ser Norton spoke which made my eyes widen.

"What year is it in your calendar?" I asked the Tall Knight.

"We're At the Tails end of 280 by my last reckoning." He spoke with an assured nod. 

'FUCK'...I Thought To Myself.

For hours I lay in bed lost in thought.

Theda has said it would be a rough few days and he was more than right.

Although Without the sword who knows where I'd be at this moment....Even still, I didn't know why he decided to send be back in time before the rebellion....It just didn't make sense.

"Probably some miscommunication between us...plus the next few years should be quite interesting" I murmured while looking over to my sword, I could have sworn that the sword hummed in agreement.

Before too long my eyes fell closed once more.

[Hours Later]

Ser Illian mounted his hardy brown courser whilst dressed in full plate armor, while two of his men at arms rode alongside him, both armed with shields and lances while a side sword hung at their hips.

I was lent a dun mare and handed a sack of forty one Ironborn noses as proof of my 'triumph' which Ser Illian claimed the High Lord would be pleased to see as a form of proof.

Our journey was a simple one, and one on upon which little excitement was expected.

The Travel from Ser Illian small coastal Village all the way to Highgarden would be a brief one.

The path would take us along the mouth of the Mander Bay to Dunstonbury before finally making the final two day stretch towards Highgarden.

Overall it was a significant journey in the relatively light frosts, take nearly a week to complete and cover a bit more than a hundred miles from what I could gather.

Being someone used to car travel, the slow meandering speed of the horses was something I certainly wasn't accustomed to.

During our travel I noticed the unease with which Ser Illian's men regarded me with, they hardly looked in my direction and not once spoke with me meanwhile Ser Illian made polite conversation during our riding.

Eventually the sun began to fall from the sky during our fist day of travel, Ser Illian decided it was time to make camp in a nearby grove.

The warmth of a campfire was all any man could think of as we dismounted the horses.

We'd need a large one to keep us safe from the nighttime frosts which were common during this season according to what Ser Norton Described.

The men struggled to light the cold and damp firewood with their charcloth for a significant amount of time, the wood was simply too damp. so I offered my assistance as I finally felt well enough to use my magic.

"Excuse me, Would you like me to try?" I asked after watching them struggle for a bit longer than I felt comfortable watching.

"Sure, go for it." Barro, One of the Guards Spoke and tried to hand me his flint and steel.

"No need for that." I spoke before pointing my hand at the wood.

"Please step back." I spoke and it drew furrowed eyebrows from the three men but they all soon did.

When I felt they were out of the line of fire I willed forth the flames.

A spitting and crackling stream of flame poured forth in a beautiful white light that bathed area all around us in it's pale white glow.

The men's eyes widened in equal parts amazement and fear.

"He's A Sorcerer!!!" One of the men at arms spoke while stepping backwards and drawing his mace.

"Fucking Knew It!" Barro Spoke while walking backwards and tripped over a large wooden branch.

"Aestorius what the hell was that." Ser Illian spoke in shock while walking backwards to where he'd left his shield.

'Ah fuck, I forgot magic wasn't that common here...guess I'd been playing too much Witcher....' I thought to myself upon seeing the men's faces.

"Don't be silly, put those weapons away." I spoke dismissively before sitting back down on the stump which I'd been seated on.

"Don't Believe Him! He'll turn us into newts and throw us in a stew!" Barro spoke with a snarl.

"I mean you no harm, If I really did want to hurt you....Well." I spoke before pointing a hand towards a nearby tree.

*FWOOOOOOOOSH!!!!!! 

Instantly a massive stream of crackling white flame flew forth and instantly the half frozen tree was scorched black by the pale flames as any branches hit directly turned into ash within seconds.

The three men froze at the sight, it was unlike anything they had ever seen....Hauntingly beautiful, It was also then that they all realized the strange burn wounds they had found on one of the ironborn had come from these flames.

They all remembered how A great deal of His skin had melted and charred to the bone and his flesh had blackened into coal around the edges, leaving a half scorched, blistered bloody mess for them to bury.

"Barro, Trevin put your fucking weapons away.....If he wanted us dead we already would be." Ser Illian spoke and his hand loosened around his sword before walking back to his stump and taking a seat.

"Is magic Illegal in these lands?" I asked, unsure if I'd have to roast these men in their armor.

"Not illegal, Just deeply frowned upon most times..." He spoke before continuing.

"Is magic common in your lands?" He asked curiously while looking down at the pale white flames which burned intermixed with the campfire, he wondered if perhaps there was a way for him to learn something like that.

"It wasn't ever common, but bloodlines like mine are nearly extinguished now." I spoke, the men at arms didn't seem to know what most of that meant but Ser Illian certainly did.

"A valuable and Dangerous gift....I wouldn't recommend using your powers publicly, Magic is not something commonly accepted in Westeros." Ser Illian spoke plainly.

"Good advice if I wished to live meekly." I responded and he game me an understanding nod, knowing nobles from ancient lines could not afford to be meek.

"Are those eyes of yours also a trait of your bloodline? I've truly never seen anything like them....It makes Targaryen eyes look a bit tame in comparison." He spoke while looking into my eyes, something I hadn't gotten a chance to do so properly for want of a mirror.

"Indeed, Drakkon Dragonlords have always had the purest blood, Even the extended branches of our family was once quite popular to marry into for the Nobles of Malrath when they still lived." I spoke which raised some eyebrows from the men.

"Same as the Targs." Barro spoke which earned him a light slap on the back of the head from Illian.

"He means the Targeryens.....The Current Royal line of the Seven Kingdoms are Targeryens, An ancient Dragonlord Family, Although they haven't had dragons in decades." Illian spoke, much more couthfully than his rough man at arms.

Before long we began passing around a wineskin and the men started to become much more relaxed around me after they realized that I truly wouldn't turn them into various types of amphibian....not that I actually could mind you.

The chatting continued for a few hours until all of them started dozing off into a slumber.

I found myself unable to sleep and simply stared at the sky filled stars as their warm breaths turned into vapor upon the cold night air. . .

[Five Days Later]

The travel was slow and meandering, Over the near week of travelling our trio passed dozens of small villages and even the bustling town of Dunstonbury.

During our travels the most impressive thing to me were the rich fields which I assumed would be barren this time of year, even in the chilly wind the fertile lands here grew Potatoes, Carrots, Leeks, Beets and more which were usually a northern crop.

The reach seemed to be a fertile paradise to my eyes even now.

Eventually we reached the gentle rolling hills which made up the most fertile lands in the seven Kingdoms, those directly administered by the Tyrell Household.

far in the distance the peaks of the absolutely massive Fortress of Highgarden could be seen, It's tall triple walls standing imposing against it's visually appealing design.

"What a castle right? You should see it in the spring....Beautiful Beyond belief." Ser Illian spoke before urging his horse forward.

"Highgarden! HAHA!....I can already feel a wenches mouth around me cock!" Barro shouted excitedly, he'd pocketed a few silvers from the dead Ironborn and was excited to spend them well.

"I'm sure you wont mind paying for me as well right? Unless you'd like me to tell how you got those co...." Trevin, the other guard started speaking before Barro screamed for him to shut up, The last thing he wanted was the young sorcerer to know he may have swiped a few of his hard earned coins.

"FINE FINE!! ILL PAY FOR YOU NOW SHUT UP!!!" Barro shouted and the four men continued onwards.

Warm Beds, Warm Meals, And Warm Women Were Nearly Within Reach.

Before long the path forward was blocked by the Drawbridge Guards Which Let People through the First Gate Of Highgarden.

Guards wrapped in thick green cloaks stopped the four men.

Our path into Highgarden was soon stopped at the main town gates where guards of green roses stood while wrapped in thick dark green cloaks to keep them warm.

"STATE YOUR NAME AND BUISNESS!" One of the Guards Shouted Aloud.

"Ser Illian Norton, Landed Knight In Service Of Luthor Tyrell, Followed By Two Of His Men At Arms And A Noble Visitor Whom Lord Luthor has Called To His Presence." Ser Illian spoke confidently before pulling two scrolls from somewhere beneath his coat.

One scroll was the letter which called him to Highgarden whilst the other was his sealed report meant for Lord Luthor's eyes only.

Illian handed both scrolls over to the guard who inspected the seal and signature upon the summoning scroll carefully before nodding to himself after verifying the scroll for authenticity.

"OPEN THE GATES!" The Guard shouted out before turning to another guard, handing him the sealed scroll and whispering something to him only I could hear.

"Get This To Lord Luthor, Be Quick About It." He whispered.

The other Guard clutched the scroll tightly before running off into the castle out of view.

"Ser Illian And The Lord Drakkon Are Welcome To Follow Me." The Guard spoke.

Ser Illian turned to his men and tossed each of them a few coppers.

"Go have a drink and meal at the tavern, I shouldn't be gone long." Ser Illian spoke and before long the men had ridden away with relieved looks on their faces, a whorehou...I mean tavern was much more preferrable than tiresome nobles after all.

[Elsewhere Not Far Away]

Jerrald the guardsman ran quickly along the castle hallways through numerous winding passages until finally emerging from a side door to the main hall where Lord Luthor sat atop his High Chair while posing for a portrait by one of the best artists in all of Westeros.

"Ser Illian Has Shown Up Mi Lord, Along With A White Haired Noble." The Guard spoke with a bow of his head..

"That was fast, Olenna please read the letter for me I am quite busy as you can see." Lord Luthor spoke while gesturing to himself as he sat on his High Seat as if he were slaving himself away by sitting still. 

"Fine...Bring It Here." Olenna spoke with a roll of her eyes and an annoyed sigh.

Soon she took the letter into her hands and snapped the seal open before starting to read.

[My Lord Luthor, I Have Found Young Man With White Hair And Strange Eyes Who Claims To Have Come From A Land Across The Sunset Sea...Found Surrounded By Forty One Butchered Ironborn Whom Were Slain By His Own Hand Alone.....This Young Man Is Called Aestorius Sallerich Von' Drakkon...Possible High Noble Or Prince From A Fallen House...Claimed To Have 'DragonsBlood' Can Attest To Have Seen Him Shoot Fire From His Palms Which Turned An Entire Birch Tree Into Ash And Possesses A Sword Which Sears The Hands Of Any But Him...Do Not Feel Or See Any Evil Intentions From This Man And I Vouch For Him With My Own Name And Honor.]

Olenna Finished reading and instantly her hands rolled up the paper and shoved it into her sleeve for safe keeping.

"Husband it seems your portrait must continue another day, Away With You." Olenna shouted at the painter who nearly jumped from his seat and scurried out of the room like a scalded dog.

"Oh For Seven's Sake Olenna, What Is So Importan...." Luthor started to complain until Olenna held the scroll in front of his face and he began to read.

By the time he finished reading his eyes shot open widely.

"I know what you're thinking....But Their marriage pacts are air tight, Sadly I was the one who made them." Olenna spoke with a gruff tone, it wasn't often that she kneecapped her future self.

"We don't have a bride to give but we do have lands...." Luthor spoke and Olenna nodded once.

"As soon as these words are verified we'll see." Olenna spoke, she hadn't been this excited about something in so long, and if she managed to get a Master swordsman, fire throwing wizard as a Vassal she would be over the moon.....Every High Lord And Lady would surely seethe with jealousy at that fact which made her even more eager to see it through.

[Not Long After] [MC POV]

Two Maids walked up to us, One holding a bowl of salt in the shape of a rose while the other held a small platter of bread.

"Is this the magical bread and salt you spoke of?" I asked Ser Norton who smirked to himself at how ridiculous that sounded.

"Yes....This is that bread and salt, Although I doubt it's nearly as Magical as what you're used to." He spoke before dipping a slice of bread into the salt and eating it hungrily.

I walked up to the maids and took a quick look at them, most of the women I'd seen so far were dirty peasants or Ser Nortons pregnant wife so none seemed to attractive.

But these two pretty maids caught my eye instantly, Sadly I saw them both shaking as I approached. Seemingly afraid of my strange eyes which disappointed me greatly.

"Ser Illian are my eyes really that terrifying to these wenches? Do the women of Westeros not know a pure and powerful bloodline when they see one? They'd be mewling like puppies back home." I spat while walking away from both maids.

"I didn't think you were old enough to be interested in 'mewling wenches' My Lord Drakkon." He spoke with a slightly exaggerated bow.

"Did You just make a joke? It was so funny I nearly forgot to laugh Ha. Ha." I responded as we were guided along with the newfound protection of magical salty bread.

Eventually we reached a set of massive steel reinforced doors with intricate embossed roses and engraved baroque patterns on it's surface.

"It's Weird...." Ser Illian murmured to himself.

"What?" I asked.

"I usually have to wait an entire day or three before they see me..." He spoke, knowing his standing among the 'nobility' was not very much but being attended immediately was certainly a change of pace.

"Presenting Ser Illian Norton Knight Of Holter Village, And Aestorius Sallerich Von' Drakkon The Keeper Of Tir Tochair!"

The noble Cryer shouted out before the large doors slowly opened.

"Did you tell them to include the last part?" I asked Ser Norton and he merely smirked in response. 

And so we both stepped into the Great Hall. . .

[Ch End] [4324 Word Count]