ASoIaF Crossover: Dragonsssss
Bastard child of Annie’s dragon AU & George R. R. Martin’s A Song of Ice and Fire, for sous’ birthday! ASoIaF/Hetalia crossovers aren’t new, as seen here in sous’ fic, uro-boros’ fic, and probably more that I haven’t found. I thought I’d try my hand anyway, because I like to jump the bandwagon. My universe is not before/after the events in Game of Thrones; it’s an alternate timeline altogether, in which the Targaryens acknowledged Stark sovereignty in the North. Despite these names, no characters from the actual series are present! If you have no idea what I’m talking about, check the notes at the end of this ficlet; I will explain the relevant points of this universe as best I can.
Warg boy, they called Matthew behind his back. Wildling scum, they said. His supporters were more like to call him Matthew Dragonskin, Dragontamer, Eyes-of-the-Dragon. Though the whisperers had grace enough to say it far from his ears, the ravens in the rookery and the rats in the walls heard all the same. Matthew even heard the names on the lips of his own people, them that were still north of the Wall: Slave-of-Stark, Boy-Who-Kneeled, Matthew Wallcrosser.
Quite apart from his will, Matthew’s dreams wandered into the body of every beast living in the keep, and some outside the walls of Winterfell. It had happened since he was old enough to remember, the beast-dreams. First it had been only his father’s dog, but later he learned to slip into the skins of other animals even in his waking hours. It had seemed mere amusement in his childhood, before the green dreams came.
Tonight, he was dubbed affectionately “Matthew Man-Maid” by his friends, who could not understand why he spurned all the serving girls who gave him peeks down their bodices. “Hey, I thought wildlings were supposed to steal their women by force, not blush at them like a maid on her wedding night!” japed Ser Ned of the Lowlands. Matthew regarded him and their laughing friends with a shy smile and tried to be as inconspicuous as possible—tonight was his first time eating in a place of honor before so many guests. Not many of the present lords approved of his ascension to the high table; he was, after all, wildling scum. But tonight Alfred held a feast in celebration of the first Dragontaming in the North, and none of it would have been possible without Matthew himself.
So he sat in the place of high honor in the eyes of all at Winterfell, on Alfred’s right. Alfred King in the North, Blood of the Wolf and the Dragon, and some whispered True Heir to the Iron Throne as well—though the south sang a different song. Over-ambitious get of an exiled prince, born of treachery and disgrace, they said. His mother, a Stark of Winterfell and heir to the Northern Throne, had been betrothed to one of her vassals but had married the Targaryen exile in shameful secrecy. “Let him keep the north, and its wildlings, and its winters,” said Arthur Prince of Dragonstone, Alfred’s cousin by the younger sister of House Targaryen. But words were wind, and the fact that the King in the North had a stronger claim to the south than its supposed heir was cause for much dissension in both lands.
All this and more had Matthew seen in his green dreams, north of the Wall, before he’d ever looked upon Alfred Stark’s face.
“You need my help,” were his first words to the young king, after a years-long journey to the tunnels beneath the Wall and then to Winterfell itself. It had taken a year or more of valuable time before Alfred trusted him, and a hard-won trust it was. But all the deeper for it, Matthew thought. He would gladly die for his king, a thousand times over, as every beast and bird in all the kingdoms. He might just get that chance.
“I will be within Balerion’s body the whole time,” Matthew told Alfred calmly after the feast, as he dressed him in his battle armor. Matthew had tried to convince the fair-haired king that armor would only encumber him and make it harder to see, but Alfred insisted. Some strange kneeler notion of what it meant to be noble and valiant. True valor has little to do with vestments and appearance, he thought, but kept it to himself.
“Where will your body be?”
Matthew carefully fitted his king’s right pauldron. “The chamber beneath the tourney grounds, as discussed. Heavily guarded, for Your Grace’s protection more than mine own. As I was saying, before Your Grace so charmingly interrupted, I will be within Balerion’s body from flight to landing. However. Dragons’ wills are difficult to conquer and suppress. If I feel as though he is about to buck me, I will not hesitate to land.”
“We’ve been practicing for months, wildling. We’ll be fine.”
“All the same. If I see fit, I will not hesitate to land.”
“And if I commanded you to land only at my order?”
“I’m afraid I would have to ignore Your Grace.”
“You would presume to disobey orders from your king?” Alfred asked, playful gleam in his bright blue eyes. Matthew hid his smile as he secured the gorget. “My, what an ungrateful subject you are, Matthew Dragontamer.”
“I am nothing of the sort!” Matthew slipped the greathelm over his king’s head.
Alfred swung open his visor and graced him with an amused look. “Of course you’re ungrateful. You give me more backtalk in a single day than what my entire court has given me in a lifetime.”
“No, Your Grace.” By his delighted smirk, Alfred did not miss the irony in the honorific. “I meant to deny the other part. I’m not your subject. I’m of the Free Folk, and I have no master but myself.” This time he was sure to show Alfred his grin before he slammed the visor shut. “Now, let’s go ride that dragon.”
Notes: All notions of the King in the North, the King in the South, Starks and Targaryens and their dragons, wargs, the Wall, and wildlings belong to George R. R. Martin. If you are unfamiliar with these things, look here
- Wargs are skin-changers. They have the power to slip into the bodies of beasts, and occasionally other humans (the latter of which is considered an abomination). Many noble houses in the north contain blood of wargs; but they are not as powerful as those born north of the Wall, where magic is stronger.
- Green dreams are another power bestowed by the magic of the north. Basically, they are psychic dreams.
- Winterfell is the seat of the King in the North. It belongs to House Stark, whose sigil is the direwolf. That’s why Alfred is considered blood of the wolf.
- The Iron Throne (in the city of King’s Landing) is the seat of the King in the South. It belongs to House Targaryen, whose sigil is the dragon. (Because they own dragons.) That’s why Alfred also considers himself the blood of the dragon—his father was a Targaryen prince, though he was stripped of his name, lands, and title when he was exiled. The heir to the Iron Throne is called the Prince of Dragonstone.
- In laws of succession, the eldest male is the heir. If there are no males, the eldest female inherits (though if she marries, her husband is the one who owns the lands and power). Alfred’s mother was the eldest daughter in a family without sons, so she inherited. In my universe, the main Targaryen branch had only an elder son and a younger daughter; the elder son was exiled and fled to the North to wed Alfred’s mother. The younger daughter became queen and is the mother to Arthur, official heir to the Iron Throne.
- The Wall is an enormous wall made of ice that is guarded by The Night’s Watch. The original purpose was to guard against the Others, a supernatural threat akin to zombies, but in my universe Others haven’t been sighted in a good long while and have thus dissolved into legend. Instead the Watch guards against the Free Folk (called wildlings & considered savages south of the Wall) who have been known to steal food and women from the northlands. The Free Folk call those south of the Wall “kneelers,” because they obey kings and lords.
- Balerion was the name of Aegon the Conqueror’s dragon. He was the Valyrian…king? prince? who came to take over Westeros (the south) HUNDREDS of years ago.
- Ser Ned of the Lowlands is indeed Netherlands.
- "Words are wind" and "japery" are figures of speech straight out of GRRM’s text.
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