A Multiversal Journey (GOT/ASOIAF)

Author here ~ I have no excuse, just was feeling tired from all the studying that I just couldn't write the chapter.

Will release one more chapter by tomorrow.

Word- 1,554

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277 AC (Alaric - 15 years old)

Water Gardens, Dorne

Alaric stood before Elia, his silver eyes gazing at her with a mix of fondness and amusement. She sat on the soft cushions of the shaded alcove, lazily stroking Nightshade, who had transformed into the form of a sleek black cat curled up on her lap. His shimmering blue eyes flickered open every now and then, giving Alaric a knowing look.

[Eyes]

"You're really leaving already?" Elia asked, her golden eyes staring into his.

Alaric chuckled, crouching down to scratch Nightshade's ears. "I have a kingdom to run, Elia. Can't spend all my time lounging around in paradise, no matter how tempting it is."

Elia smirked, though there was a hint of disappointment in her gaze. "Evergrace, right? Your grand city in the North. You must be proud."

Alaric nodded. "It's finally complete. I've invited Lord Stark to hold the Winter Festival there instead of Winterfell. He actually agreed."

That made Elia raise an eyebrow. "Richard Stark agreed? Without resistance?"

"Surprising, isn't it?" Alaric said with a smirk. "I was ready to... persuade him a little, but he accepted without much fuss. He's cautious, though. I can tell he's testing me."

Elia leaned back, her fingers tracing idle patterns on Nightshade's sleek fur. "The Starks value their traditions. If he's letting you host the festival, he must see you as someone important to the North's future."

"Or he's making sure I'm not a threat," Alaric replied with a grin. "Either way, it works in my favor."

Nightshade suddenly lifted his head and spoke, his voice smooth yet deep. "You will see soon enough. Mortals always dance between fear and greed when faced with power."

Elia chuckled, tapping the cat's nose. "And what about you, little one? Do you fear or do you crave?"

Nightshade's tail flicked. "I am neither mortal nor bound by their emotions."

Alaric stood up, shaking his head. "And on that note, I really should be going. Winter is coming, after all."

Elia rolled her eyes. "I swear, you Northerners and your obsession with that phrase."

Alaric grinned before placing a gentle kiss on her forehead. "Stay safe, Elia."

Elia gave him a rare, soft smile. "You too, Alaric."

With that, he turned and walked away, vanishing into the air as his body dissolved into a flurry of black and silver light.

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Stony Shore, The North

Alaric appeared just outside his castle in Evergrace, the cold wind immediately biting at his skin. Not that he felt it. The city stretched before him, a masterpiece of stone and magic, built to withstand even the harshest of winters.

As he stepped inside the great hall, Sereyna was already there, seated at the long wooden table, surrounded by scrolls and documents. Her piercing blue eyes lifted as he entered.

"You're late," she said, pushing a parchment toward him.

Alaric took a seat across from her, glancing at the document. "You act as if I have a fixed schedule."

Sereyna rolled her eyes. "You're the lord of this city. You should."

Alaric ignored her and scanned the paper. It detailed preparations for the Winter Festival—food supplies, guest lists, arrangements for visiting lords. Everything was coming together smoothly.

"So, Richard Stark agreed?" Sereyna asked, studying his expression.

Alaric leaned back, crossing his arms. "Yeah. No resistance at all. Strange, isn't it?"

Sereyna tapped a finger against her chin. "He's probably testing you. Seeing if you're gathering power to overthrow his house plus according to the information he has, hosting this big of an event would have considerably large burden on your coffers"

Alaric smirked. "Oh, he'll see soon enough."

Sereyna raised an eyebrow. "What are you planning?"

"Nothing," Alaric said innocently. "Just ensuring the festival is... memorable."

Sereyna sighed. "That look on your face tells me you're going to do something dramatic."

Alaric grinned. "When do I not?"

She shook her head. "Just don't make the Starks regret this. The North may respect power, but they value stability more."

Alaric waved a hand dismissively. "Relax. This is just a festival. A little fun. Good food, good drink, and maybe a few surprises."

Sereyna sighed but didn't push further. "Fine. But you should at least meet with Richard Stark before the festival begins. It would be good to gauge his intentions in person."

Alaric nodded. "I was planning to. I'll visit Winterfell tomorrow. But, we should finish the preperations before that."

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Winterfell, The North

The next day, Alaric arrived at Winterfell just before dusk. The castle was as imposing as ever, its grey walls standing strong against the creeping cold. As he entered the great hall, Richard Stark was already waiting, seated at the head of the table.

The Stark lord was a man of quiet strength, his features worn by the harsh Northern winters but his eyes sharp with wisdom. Beside him sat his son, Brandon Stark, who watched Alaric with open curiosity.

Alaric took a seat without waiting for an invitation, smirking as he did so. "Lord Stark. Thank you for agreeing to hold the festival in Evergrace."

Richard Stark studied him for a moment before nodding. "You've built something remarkable, lad. A city like Evergrace doesn't just appear overnight. The North could use such a place."

Alaric tilted his head. "And yet, I sense hesitation in your voice."

Richard exhaled slowly. "You're powerful, Alaric. More than any man I've ever met. That makes you valuable, but also dangerous. The North does not bow easily, nor do we trust without reason."

Alaric leaned forward, resting his arms on the table. "I have no interest in ruling over the North, Lord Stark. I just want my home to thrive. The festival will prove that."

Richard held his gaze for a long moment, then nodded. "Very well. We shall see."

Brandon smirked. "I hope you've prepared well. Winter festivals are no small thing in the North."

Alaric grinned. "Oh, trust me. This will be one for the ages."

As he stood to leave, Richard spoke again. "One more thing, Alaric. Have you heard about Duskenblade?"

Alaric's smirk faded slightly. "The rebellion? The one against Aerys?"

Richard nodded. "Word has reached us that the King grows more unstable. If he acts recklessly, war may come sooner than we expect."

Alaric's fingers tapped against the table. "And what does the North plan to do?"

Richard's expression was unreadable. "For now? We watch. We wait. But if the Mad King burns the wrong people, even the North may be forced to act."

Alaric nodded slowly. "Then I suppose we should enjoy this festival while we still can."

With that, he turned and left the hall, the weight of the coming storm settling over him.

Winter was coming, indeed. And this time, it wasn't just the cold.

Stony Shore, Evergrace

Alaric leaned against the stone balcony of his newly completed castle, Evergrace, staring out at the bustling streets below. The city was alive with activity, workers rushing to finish last-minute decorations, merchants unloading goods, and guards ensuring everything was in place. The Winter Festival was going to be the biggest celebration the North had ever seen, and he was going to make sure it would be remembered for centuries.

Beside him, Sereyna stood with a parchment in her hands, her brow furrowed as she went through the list of preparations.

Sereyna: "Alright, let's go over this again. Food supplies?"

Alaric: "Enough to feed the entire North for a year. We have grain, meats, fish, and even some of those fancy spices from Essos. No one's going hungry at my festival."

Sereyna: "Good. Wine and ale?"

Alaric: "Stored in the cellars. The best from the Arbor, Dornish reds, and of course, the local mead. Even the old men will be dancing before the night is over."

Sereyna: chuckling "You sure about that? Northerners don't dance."

Alaric: grinning "They will when they're drunk enough."

Sereyna rolled her eyes but smiled as she continued reading.

Sereyna: "Entertainment?"

Alaric: "Minstrels, dancers, jesters—everything a proper festival needs. Oh, and I hired a fire-breather from Volantis. Thought it'd be fun to see if he can outdo Nightshade."

Sereyna: raising an eyebrow "You mean the same Nightshade who turned into a cat and is currently getting his belly rubbed by Elia?"

Alaric: laughing "Yeah, that one. He's gotten lazy. Needs a reminder that he's supposed to be a dragon."

Sereyna sighed and checked another thing off the list.

Sereyna: "And seating arrangements?"

Alaric: "The Stark family and the major lords will sit in the great hall. Lesser lords and their bannermen will have their own sections. I made sure no one will feel insulted by where they sit. Even threw in some sweetened wine for the ones who might be too proud for their own good."

Sereyna: nodding "Smart. You don't want to start a fight over something as silly as a chair."

Alaric leaned back, stretching his arms.

Alaric: "Honestly, the hardest part is done. Now, we just wait for the guests to arrive and enjoy the show."

Sereyna: grinning "You mean enjoy watching the lords try to figure out how much power you actually have?"

Alaric: "Exactly."

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