James Wilson
Stories
7
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3,148
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-: PD :- Interlude: Jon. The sight froze Jon in place atop one of the southern towers. A freezing curdling of his throat, something indescribably heavy choking the life out of him. The Tower of Ghosts' fall was stately, a crumbling rod of black slashing down on his King. His friend. It smashed into Drogon's body as it spilled its guts over the courtyard, great plumes of dust and smoke skyrocketing up its sides. Rhaegal revealed itself mostly unharmed, a sinuous bronze-green serpent screeching skywards,…-
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Chapter 74: Trial. Spoiler: Music ---- AN: Right click, set to loop. ---- The line tensed, something desperate shaking it in circles before it snapped entirely, the rest of the fishing rod whipping up straight again with a The marching boots behind him did their best to mar the peace and quiet though, keeping up their constant shuffle as he sat down on a bed of straw. That lockstep waddle hadn't stopped for the last half-hour. "Uncle, won't you sit?" said Joffrey. "Yes. Yes! Why shouldn't I sit?!"…
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Chapter 73: Prelude. The wind picked up something fierce, a hefty billowing of cloaks and coats despite the clear skies. The man with the Grandmaster's chain shuffled to a stop between the river bed and the line of silent sentinel pines marking the edge of the Haunted Forest, milky eyes turning towards her. Sansa stopped by his side and flicked her gaze down to the snow, smelling of something old and not quite gone before the man wearing Pycell's skin kneeled and splayed his arms wide. A ragged breath…
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Interlude: Lancel. "You really think it might have been a Stannis sympathizer?" asked Lancel. Lev shrugged, old eyes trawling the collapsed tunnel before centering back on the Legate. "Dis' were good ones'," he said, thumping one of the collapsed pillars that peeked out of the rubble with a gnarled hand. "Good logs, solid. One? Maybe'. Three?" He shook his head. Lancel kneeled, grasping a glittering piece of obsidian with a gauntleted hand. It seemed to drink in the light of the torches, a piece of…
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Interlude: Mance. "I don't like this, Mance," said Harma the Dogshead. The leader of his vanguard looked at him, and Mance regarded her with an air of cool nonchalance. "I don't like it either, but you saw that army with your own eyes. That is not a battle we can win. At least not well enough to survive the "Already weak at the knees, Harma?" said the Lord of Bones, who sat by his other side. She leaned on the table, scoffing at him, "How well do you think that "We've got the numbers," he said. The…
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Spoiler: AN AN: Hi all, sorry about the long delay. Things are quieting down (somewhat) around here, and I'm vaguely optimistic about the future. I'm really touched by the well-wishes and the worry, and so I just wanted to say that I'm hale and healthy right now, and looking to continue that way. It's been quite the unofficial hiatus, but you know what? I think its time to get this show back on the road. -: PD :- Chapter 72: A Matter of Incentives. The pale Braavosi nodded at her point with a polite…
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Interlude: Maergery. "Stay still," said her cousin, threading the last brooch at the back of her dress, "Almost done." "Thank you, Elinor," said Margery, pondering that question. Almost three years with the power of a crown, a blip in the timescale of dynasties, and yet even living in the capital for that stretch of time had left her bewildered to the breadth of the change brewing within. "Eyes on the present, granddaughter of mine," said Olenna, walking around her with an appraising look. "Leave the…
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Chapter 71: Kingdoms. "It feels like a dream, sometimes," said Aegon, shifting his weight on the railing as he looked at his best friend. Duck snorted, still a bit green over the swaying waves. "I know what you mean," he said, still looking over the great fleet anchored next to the protective bulk of a deserted atoll. The moonless night left more things to the mind than the eyes, but Aegon could still see his fleet's many bow and stern lamps dotting his surroundings. They enveloped him protectively, the…
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Chapter 70: Secrets. Spoiler: Music ---- AN: Right click, set to loop. ---- Was one's character determined from birth? Or was it molded by life's smith; experience? Joffrey spread his arms, leaning forward on the balcony; the orderly sound of Lannisport at work barely reached him this high up in the Rock. The morning sun had peeked out of the Golden Tooth some hours ago, and with it had risen the workers and merchants of the city, plying their trades out of short-legged cogs intent on the Reach or…
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Interlude: Daenerys. "But must he keep plying me with feasts and wine in the meantime? Why are the Pureborn taking so long?" Daenerys said as she fed Drogon a bit of meat. The tiny black dragon snapped it up eagerly, the charred piece of lamb swift to disappear into his gullet. "These things take time, Khaleesi," said Jorah, frowning at Drogon and the other caged dragons. He was always careful around them, keeping his distance and leaning a hand on the pommel of his sword. Ever his armored protector,…
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