(A/N):
Drop a meme here that you find funny. Or reflects your mood.
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KING'S LANDING...
RED KEEP...
Night finally claimed the king.
Viserys, exhausted beyond reason, lay back against the pillows, one arm curled protectively around the egg, his breathing slow and uneven.
Beside him, Catherine Hightower slept peacefully, unaware that the fate of kingdoms rested inches from her hand.
The chamber was still.
Too still.
A soft scrape echoed from the balcony.
A green shape slipped through the iron grills with practiced ease, landing in a crouch that would have made even a cat jealous.
The Grinch straightened, stretched, and sighed.
-Sigh
"Whew… waiting is terrible for my complexion."
He glanced at the sleeping couple, shrugged, then—
Without shame—picked his nose, flicked it toward the balcony, and padded forward.
"...."
His yellow eyes locked onto the crimson egg.
"Alright, scary rock,"
He whispered while his hair on top of his cone head twitch,
"time for a change of scenery."
With absurd delicacy, he lifted a nearby ornate vase, heavy, cold, and roughly egg-shaped if one squinted hard enough.
He swapped them.
Smooth. Effortless.
Perfect.
"...."
The egg disappeared into the sack slung over his shoulder, its warmth pulsing faintly through the fabric.
The Grinch froze for half a second when Viserys shifted in his sleep.
The king's hand tightened.
Around the vase.
The Grinch clamped a hand over his mouth, stifling a laugh.
-Pfft!
"Ohhh, that's beautiful."
Satisfied, he tiptoed backward, pausing only to give the sleeping king a mock salute.
"Sweet dreams, Your Majesty. Don't let the pottery bite."
With a silent leap, he vanished back through the balcony—gone as if he'd never existed.
MORNING...
The next morning, Viserys awoke with a start.
The first thing he did—instinctively—was clutch tighter.
"...."
Something felt… wrong.
Cold. Too smooth.
His eyes snapped open.
-Snap
"...."
Slowly, dread creeping up his spine, he looked down.
A vase stared back at him.
For a heartbeat, the world stopped.
Then—
"NO."
The vase shattered against the stone floor.
-CRACK
Catherine jolted awake, sitting up in panic.
"Viserys? King? What—?"
The king was already on his feet, eyes wild, breath ragged, tearing through the chamber like a madman—throwing aside cushions, ripping open chests, shouting for guards.
"THE EGG! FIND IT! FIND IT NOW!"
Guards flooded the room.
Maesters followed.
Otto would soon be summoned.
But it was already too late.
Somewhere far away—beyond gods, beyond kings, beyond prophecy—
A green creature skipped cheerfully across reality, sack slung over his shoulder.
-Phew -Phew
"Step one: steal hope,"
He hummed clearly satisfied by his performance.
"Step two: watch everything fall apart."
The epitome of mischief laughed to himself, already imagining the chaos to come.
THRONE REALM...
In the throne realm beyond mortal sight, the Old Gods and the New Gods erupted.
Their vast silhouettes trembled with rage, divine pressure cracking the void around them.
"INCOMPETENT."
"PATHETIC."
"WE CHOSE POORLY."
The dragon-shaped god's wings flared, its burning gaze fixed on the mortal world.
"We bestowed a sacred purpose."
"A weapon meant to slay the false god."
"And he lost it… to a ridiculous creature."
Another god—cold, skeletal—hissed in disgust.
-yEW
"If we could descend, his soul would already be ash."
But they could not descend.
The laws they themselves had accepted before ascending to god-hood bound them.
Silence fell—heavy, dangerous.
"...."
"...."
"...."
Then the Dragon God moved.
From the divine fire, another egg took shape—identical in color, scale, and presence.
A perfect imitation, forged with power but lacking one thing the gods did not speak aloud.
'Fate.'
"Let the mortal believe,"
The dragon god said slowly.
"Clarifying the truth serves no purpose."
The others agreed revealing the truth will only cause more harm to their plan.
If the king failed again, the fault would be entirely his.
KING'S LANDING...
RED KEEP...
Back in the Red Keep, chaos reigned.
Viserys stood pale and shaking, rage and despair warring in his eyes, when a guard rushed into the chamber—breathless, kneeling.
"Y-Your Grace!... The egg—!"
Viserys turned sharply hearing the word egg.
The guard held up a sack with trembling hands.
"We found it near the outer corridor, my king. It must have been stolen and abandoned."
Viserys lunged forward.
He tore the sack open.
There it was.
The crimson egg—warm, pulsing faintly, jagged scales gleaming in the torchlight.
Viserys sagged, a shaky breath escaping him.
-Huff -Huff
"…The gods have not abandoned me."
He cradled the egg close, checking every ridge, every scale.
"...."
It was the same.
It felt the same.
His confidence returned in a rush—fragile, desperate, but intoxicating.
"Double the guards,"
He ordered hoarsely looking at the royal guards who had gathered.
"No one enters my chambers without my word."
The guard bowed and withdrew.
Viserys sat slowly on the edge of the bed, holding the egg as if it were his own heart.
He never noticed the absence of something intangible.
THRONE REALM...
From their throne realm, the gods watched.
They were furious.
But they said nothing.
They let the lie stand.
Because now—
Whether Viserys succeeded or failed, Whether the dragon hatched or did not...
The outcome would still serve them.
And somewhere far away,
A green creature skipped happily through reality, humming to himself, the real egg safe in his sack—already imagining how wonderfully everything would unravel at the poor king's face.
ELDORIA...
DAWNFIRE CITADEL...
DAWNFIRE CITADEL CASTLE...
The meeting hall of Dawnfire Citadel was quiet—thoughtfully quiet.
Sunlight streamed through high arched windows, illuminating a circular table where the lords of the North and allied Westerosi houses sat.
No one interrupted. No one scoffed. They listened.
Leo stood at the center, hands resting lightly on the table—not in dominance, but in certainty.
"Your children will be safe here,"
Leo said calmly while leaning back on his seat.
"Not as hostages. Not as leverage."
A few lords stiffened instinctively—old habits from old politics.
"...."
"...."
"...."
Leo continued, unbothered telling them his plan for the future when the war starts and after the war ends.
"They will study here during the war. They will learn reading, numbers, medicine, governance, engineering—and how to think."
That word carried weight. Think.
Cregan Stark, standing behind his father, felt it land like a hammer.
"...."
Leo's gaze swept the room.
"Your families may stay as well. Not forever. Only until the storm passes."
Murmurs stirred—but not disagreement. Hope.
Then Leo's tone shifted—still calm, but sharper.
"After the war… this does not end here."
The lords straightened expecting some outrage condition instinctively.
"You will build schools on your own lands. Not for nobles alone. For everyone."
A Riverlands lord frowned slightly.
-Frown
"Even… commoners?"
Leo met his eyes not blinking.
"Especially commoners."
Silence.
"...."
"...."
"...."
Not resistance. Processing.
Leo pressed on continuing his speech.
"Knowledge hoarded becomes a weapon. Knowledge shared becomes a foundation."
Several lords glanced unconsciously at one another—thinking of maesters, of letters they had never been allowed to read, of questions they were never meant to ask.
"You will also open medical centers, Healers trained here will return with you. Over time, you will train others."
Leo once again poked the earlier doubt seed he planted before at White Harbor during his visit to north.
Rickon Stark exhaled slowly now his part has arrived he need to perform smoothly.
"And these… medical homes, They would serve all?"
He said carefully orchestrating his words.
Leo nodded his head with a little smile on his face.
"No banners. No fees. No bloodlines. Life does not discriminate—neither should those who preserve it."
The hall was utterly silent now.
"...."
"...."
"...."
Not one lord objected.
Because for the first time, this was not a demand backed by threat.
It was an offer backed by results.
One by one, the lords nodded.
-Nods
Some hesitantly. Some eagerly. Some with expressions that suggested their world had just tilted.
A Westerlands lord finally spoke.
"If we agree… and the Citadel resists?"
Leo's answer was simple.
"...."
"Then you will already know how little you needed them."
That settled it. Pens scratched parchment. Agreements were written—not as oaths, but as commitments.
Cregan Stark looked at Leo with something new in his eyes.
Not fear... Not worship... Respect.
This was not a god promising salvation.
This was a ruler teaching others how to stand without gods at all.
A sudden, crackling laugh echoed through the meeting chamber.
-KEKEKEKEKEKEKEKE!!!
"...."
Not cruel. Not divine.
Just… wrong.
Every lord turned as the great doors swung open.
"...."
"...."
"...."
In walked a short green figure wearing a Santa Claus coat two sizes too big, a crooked red hat slipping over one ear, a fake white beard barely clinging to his chin.
A massive sack dragged behind him, scraping dramatically across the floor.
"HO–HO–HO~!"
The voice was perfectly wrong.
Several guards stiffened.
A few lords stared.
Cregan Stark blinked—twice.
-Blink -Blink
"...."
Leo sighed turned to look at Grinch who was all dramantic.
"…You're enjoying this."
The green creature strutted forward, chest puffed out, ignoring every stare as if this were his stage.
"Enjoying? I'm thriving."
He planted the sack before Leo, cleared his throat, and—still in full Santa tone—announced.
-Aho -Aho
"And what do we say, children, when Santa brings a very… very special present?"
Without waiting, he ripped open the sack.
"Ta–daaaaa!!!"
Wrapped in absurdly festive paper and tied with bright ribbons sat a deep red, jagged-scaled egg, faintly warm and very, very real.
The chamber went dead silent.
"...."
"...."
"...."
Then—
"…Is that—"
"By the gods…"
"That's a dragon egg."
Grinch clasped his hands together, beaming.
"Not just a dragon egg... The dragon egg."
He straightened, cleared his throat again, and dropped the Santa voice.
-Kekeke
"Stolen. Cleanly. Quietly."
Then, with theatrical flair, he launched into a reenactment.
Grinch puffed out his belly, cradled an imaginary egg, and pitched his voice high and whiny like the old king.
"Ohhh Catherine, my destiny~!"
He fluttered his eyelashes, then deepened his voice dramatically.
"The gods chose meee!"
He waddled two steps, paused, then mimed clutching something else and gasped.
"—Why is my dragon egg cold?"
The hall exploded.
-Hahaha!!!
-Hahaha!!!...
Not loudly—but with choked coughs, stifled snorts, and nobles desperately covering their mouths.
Benjen Stark outright fell off his chair laughing.
Sara Snow clutched her stomach.
-Haha!!!
"Make him stop—!"
Grinch wasn't done.
He mimed Viserys screaming, flailing, then switched to a falsetto Catherine voice.
"Viserys dear, why are you yelling at the furniture?"
He finished by dramatically swapping an imaginary egg with an imaginary vase and tiptoeing away.
"And scene."
Silence.
"...."
"...."
"...."
Then uncontrollable laughter.
Rickon Stark turned away, shoulders shaking.
Lord Manderly wiped tears from his eyes.
Even seasoned northern lords lost composure.
Leo pinched the bridge of his nose.
"...."
"You stole from the Iron Throne."
Grinch bowed deeply with a evil grin slowly formed while his hair twiched.
"Successfully."
Leo picked up the egg.
He did feel divine authority but he could cut off easily.
As he was pondering the divine authority was served from the egg automatically.
Seems like those Old and New gods has given up on it.
"This is the real one,"
Leo said calmly while checking the egg.
Grinch nodded and told them how those fake gods blessed a another one to the king.
"Oh yeah. The gods panicked and gave him a replacement."
This Grinch is not a normal one he could enter his own reality like a mirror space but not that grand.
While he was in there he could observe his surrounding and no one could trace him out.
So while running away he also looked what happens through the screen popped before his eyes in that reality.
The laughter died instantly.
"...."
"...."
"...."
The room sharpened.
"They didn't correct him,"
Leo murmured looked little suprised.
Grinch's grin turned razor-thin.
"Why would they? A desperate king with a fake miracle is still useful."
The lords exchanged uneasy glances.
Rickon Stark exhaled slowly.
-Sigh
"So the crown believes itself empowered…"
"…while holding a lie,"
Leo finished his handed the egg to a waiting attendant.
"Good work."
Grinch puffed up proudly.
"Thank you, thank you. I accept payment in chaos."
Leo finally smiled.
Not amused. Satisfied.
Grinch has done a really a good job this time.
Then he heard about Iron Banks ship from few lords who were chatting.
With one last theatrical bow and a finger-gun salute, the green menace backed toward the doors.
"Iron Bank ship, you say? Hehehe… sounds heavy."
A manic laugh echoed as Grinch slipped away, already plotting his second act.
The doors closed.
The meeting—after several deep breaths and lingering chuckles—finally concluded.
Lords departed with minds racing, plans sharpening, and a story none of them would ever be able to tell properly without sounding mad.
Leo remained behind only long enough to secure the chamber—then lifted the crimson egg and made his way through the citadel.
AEMMA'S CHAMBER...
The room was warm and calm, washed in amber light.
At the far window stood Aemma, brush in hand, finishing a painting.
On the canvas, a dragon and a griffin soared together across a sunset sky—firelight and gold feathers cutting through clouds painted in impossible colors.
She sensed him before she saw him.
Aemma turned, smiled, and set the brush aside.
"You're late,"
She teased softly while licking her lower lips.
Leo chuckled as she walked over, her eyes flicking immediately to the egg in his hand.
-Chuckle
"...."
"...."
She leaned in, kissed his cheek, then another—playful, affectionate.
"And what,"
She asked, fingers brushing his sleeve asked jokingly,
"did you steal this time?"
He wrapped an arm around her waist and returned the affection, pulling her into a gentle, unhurried kiss before resting his forehead against hers.
"Technically? Someone else stole it for me."
He placed the egg carefully on the table.
Aemma's eyes widened slightly—Not in fear, but recognition taking a clear look at it.
"…A dragon egg."
Leo nodded and began explaining—Viserys' obsession, the gods' manipulation, the swap, and the sheer absurdity of how it ended up here.
By the time he finished, Aemma was laughing openly, hand over her mouth, eyes shining.
-Hahahaha
"The gods chose him?"
She scoffed, shaking her head.
"Oh, that foolish idiot. He deserves all that..."
She circled the table, studying the egg with a thoughtful expression—not covetous, not reverent.
"So this is the weapon they wanted to kill you with, And now it's sitting on my table."
Leo smiled mockingly do they think a single dragon can kill him.
"I thought you should decide what happens to it."
Aemma looked at him, laughter fading into something steadier—something warm and resolute.
She reached out, rested her hand over his.
"Then let it stay here, Safe. Watched. And far from gods who treat lives like pieces on a board."
She glanced back at her painting—the dragon and griffin sharing the same sky.
"Some creatures deserve a better story."
Leo nodded slowly while his eyes looked at the women in his arms.
The grand chamber of the estate was bathed in the flickering glow of candlelight, the scent of beeswax and aged wood thick in the air.
Aemma stood by the hearth, the firelight dancing across her curves, casting long shadows that clung to the swell of her hips and the generous weight of her breasts.
Her silver hair, cascaded over her shoulders, framing a face that had only grown more alluring with time.
She was a vision of mature beauty—soft where a woman should be soft, firm where it mattered, her body a testament to decades of indulgence and sin.
The deep crimson of her lips curled into a smirk as she watched Leo from beneath half-lidded eyes, her fangs glinting in the low light.
Leo didn't resist.
He never could.
Because today his role in their role play is young vampire who was going to taste the forbidden fruit of a mature women.
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(Author's POV)
(A/N)I hope you guys are enjoying the story.
War is Inevitable! Guys...
I hope you guys could give me charecters for summoning for war type fighting generals for example.
--> Any thought drop a comment here.
Thanks for reading the chapter!
Please give areview
And power stone!!!
It will Motivate Me.