Chapters
259 AC, the Last Hearth The Wandering Bastard He had guessed right. The Lord of Last Hearth was indeed hosting a feast, for the first nameday of his grandson, Jon Umber. Hoarfrost Umber was a giant of a man, broad-shouldered like a boar and towering a whole head over most men, just like his grandson would in the future. He looked like half a giant, too, with a shaggy grey beard hiding most of his face, though his eyes were sharp and full of cunning. To Jon’s surprise, the…- 168.6 K • Ongoing
- Disclaimer: This is a work of fiction based on the ASOIAF universe. All recognisable characters, plots, and settings are the exclusive property of GRRM; I make no claim to ownership. Edited by: Bub3loka 259 AC, King’s Landing The Wandering Bastard “This is bloody slow,” Tormund groaned, looking at the winding queue that disappeared into the gatehouse before them. They had barely moved ten yards in the last half an hour, and his squire had begun to grow…
- 168.6 K • Ongoing
- 259 AC, Castle Black The Self-Exiled Prince Seated in a crude chair on the balcony, he basked in the thin Northern sun. Ravens croaked and cawed in a jarring symphony, but his ears had long grown used to the cacophony. Across the ledge, the yells of the drillmaster mingled with the clangour of steel and grunts of recruits and old rangers too bored to do anything but hone their skills. Once upon a time, that would have interested him a tad. Just enough to move to the ledge and observe,…
- 168.6 K • Ongoing
- 259 AC, The Trident The Wandering Bastard “Greetings. I am Jon Snow of the North.” He motioned towards Tormund, who obediently remained silent. “And this is my squire.” It was not a lie, but it was far from the whole truth. But the truth would do him no good and beggar belief. Jon had contemplated offering up a lie, building up some ambiguous background of a noble scion from a decaying but prestigious house, but had quickly thought the better of it. After all, he had already introduced…
- 168.6 K • Ongoing
- 259 AC, The Riverlands The Wandering Bastard Only once they passed the great causeway of the Neck and the horses set hoof into the Riverlands did Jon Snow feel at ease. A part of him had yearned to stop at Winterfell, to try and enter his former home and meet his grandparents, who were about his age now. Yet Jon knew all too well now was not the time. Any bonds of kinship they had would not be recognised, aye, but it was something else that gave him a sense of urgency. Bolton outriders had…
- 168.6 K • Ongoing
- 259 AC, King’s Landing The Young Princess The weather remained mercurial, the dark clouds choked the skies each day, sometimes spiced with flashes of thunder and a torrent of rain. The year grew to its zenith, yet the expected heat wave had yet to arrive. The new Grand Maester claimed the days were starting to shorten and that fall would soon arrive. Her grandsire’s nameday was fast approaching, and with it, her departure for Sunspear as Rhaella fell into restless…
- 168.6 K • Ongoing
- 12th of November, 1994 Saturday (4 days later) Mr Malfoy Lucius slumped on the sofa, feeling completely drained, exhaustion seeping all the way into his marrow. His mind was wrung dry, the tension of the last few months culminating in a near-constant ache between his temples, hard to dispel. Just as he was drained, so was the Malfoy family. His own freedom—and that of his children and future grandchildren—was bargained away for a Wizengamot seat, the long-cherished Malfoy dream. That was…
- 456.1 K • Ongoing
- Disclaimer: This is a work of fiction based on the Harry Potter universe. All recognisable characters, plots, and settings are the exclusive property of Joanne K. Rowling. I do not claim ownership. Edited and beta-read by Himura, Bub3loka, Ash, and Kingfishlong. 3rd of September 1994, Saturday Fleur Delacour The small hall was no different from a modest dining room, but more than enough to accommodate Madame Maxime and all twelve champion candidates—that had been the plan. But now, it was…
- 456.1 K • Ongoing
- 1st of September 1994, Thursday (71 days later) Ronald Weasley Platform Nine and Three Quarters was as lively as ever. The air hung heavy with steam and the voices of a hundred conversations, the hoots of owls and the yowls and hisses of cats. For once, they hadn’t arrived at the last moment—a glance at the clock told him they had seven minutes before departure instead of the usual four. Their dad was busy with yet another urgent call-up from the ministry—something about breaking the…
- 456.1 K • Ongoing
- 7th of October 1994, Friday (13 days later) The Aspirant The morning greeted them with its typical British weather. The wind howled through the treetops as rain poured down endlessly, soaking the already damp Scottish Highlands further. The pathway from the carriage to the castle had turned into a muddy river, nigh impossible to cross. “If it’s not the cold, it’s the rain,” Adeline muttered sourly, glancing through the windows of their shared dorm. Originally, the carriage had more than…
- 456.1 K • Ongoing
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