Chapter Text
The War for the Dawn was over.
There were no survivors. When that dawn broke at last it was upon a world of ice and disintegrating corpses. The Night King stood on an endless howling plain of winter, unmoving - his purpose at last complete. Between one gust of wind and the next, his eyes dimmed, and then extinguished.
A world hurtled through the black void of the cosmos, at last frozen and silent.
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ELSEWHERE IN THE VOID
The gods of Valyria were staring fixedly at R'hllor, who was not having a particularly good eternity today.
The seven gods of the Andals stood beside them, glaring. R'hllor didn't like where this was headed.
“OK, so… I can explain.”
The Old Gods flickered in and out of view.
Mother Rhoyne had her disappointed face on. “Really.”
“Um, maybe not… explain… but”
The Great Shepherd and Great Stallion muttered darkly.
More beings emerged from the void. The Drowned God, the Many Faced God, the Black Goat, and all the Ghiscari cousins.
No one looked happy. R'hllor considered the possibility that he might be really fucked.
“You said - I'm quoting here - ‘It's in the bag, don't worry’.” Arrax spat.
“I put my best people on the job! They should have-”
“BEST PEOPLE? Really? That's what you're going with? A mortal priest who couldn't find her own ass with a map, and two scions you forgot about until the due date?”
“I know, I know it sounds bad when you put it like that-”
“ENOUGH” Balerion rumbled. “R'hllor, you failed. You failed spectacularly. The Other has complete dominion. Ice and death rule over every land, every sea. There is NO MORE LIFE! You were granted every possible opportunity for success-”
“The Other didn't even want to win.” One of the Giscari godlings muttered.
“Just so.” Balerion continued. Even our Great Enemy did not wish this- this”
“THIS TRAVESTY” A presence of unmaking and disintegration with a voice like eternal silence emerged from the void, wreathed in cold. Mother Rhoyne stepped delicately aside. Everyone simultaneously drew back and tried very hard to make it look like they were doing no such thing.
The Great Other looked around. “THE COMPACT HAS BEEN BROKEN. ALL YOUR CHILDREN ARE GONE. ALL MY CHILDREN ARE GONE.”
They looked around at the assembled beings. “WHAT DO WE DO NOW?”
Everyone looked around awkwardly. The Great Game had gone on longer than even they could remember. They knew there had been a Before, but none of them could remember, exactly, what that time had looked like. It had been a very long time ago, after all. And even deities were subject to entropy. Eventually.
Tessarion nudged her way to the front. “Perhaps a do-over?”
The Great Other drew themself up with affront.“AND ALLOW THAT IDIOT TO-”
“No! Nonono, I mean we give the job to someone else! Someone… better?” Behind her R'hllor sounded like he was trying to object. Something was muffling him though. She looked over her shoulder. Ah, Tyraxes had him in a headlock.
“ARE YOU VOLUNTEERING?”
“I.. no, I mean”
Shrykos drew up beside her. “Dearest, you can't possibly bollocks it up any worse, yes?”
“I suppose you're right.” She squared her shoulders and looked the Enemy in their face, every inch the goddess she was. “Honored enemy, may your champions fight well.”
“HONORED ENEMY, MAY YOUR CHAMPIONS FIGHT WELL.” Then they stepped backwards and faded once more into the void.
As did most of the other deities. R'hllor being somewhat ungracefully led by the ear. Mother Rhoyne's face did not bode well for his immediate future.
Balerion turned to her. “Do you have a plan?”
Tessarion smiled. “I believe I do. And Shrykos had a point. I certainly can't do any worse.”
Balerion smirked. “That's the spirit.” And then he, too, faded into the void.
Tessarion contemplated their world through its many ages. R'hllor had gotten lucky with his first champion. It had made him complacent, but it was a solid base to build off of. So, where to begin.
What about… Lann. Yes. Lann the clever. His line had great potential, but living over a gold mine had made them as complacent as R'hllor, with consequences as severe, if greatly limited in scope. Because mortals, of course.
What if… yes. That would do nicely.
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CASTERLY ROCK, 259 AC
Joanna Lannister bolted upright in bed with a scream that was heard halfway through the mountain. She was five and ten. She was to leave within the sennight to attend the new king's coronation. She knew these things as well as she knew the color of her own hair.
And she also knew that her last memory was of looking at her son's face as she bled out on the birthing bed.