The House of Ice and Fire

A Father's Rage

Author's Note. PLEASE READ!

Please note that this portion before Daemon, who is the main perceptive of this chapter, was done last minute because a reader asked for me to write this scene specifically. This was not planned at all; it was a last-minute decision made two hours before the upload in question. I know it does not seem likely because of how it came out, but once I started, I loved the idea so much I may have gone overboard.

King's Landing 102 AC

Two months ago....

The night hung heavy over King's Landing, cloaked in shadows that whispered of secrets and concealed treachery. The air was thick with anticipation, and the silence of the city streets seemed to dance with unseen menace. Under the cover of darkness, the Hill of Rhaenys stood as a brooding sentinel, its contours outlined by the silvery glow of a waxing moon.

Then, with a roar that echoed through the ancient stones of the Red Keep, the very earth beneath the Hill convulsed in a violent upheaval. A colossal explosion of dirt and rubble erupted from the bowels of the Hill, rending the quiet night asunder. A shockwave of force shattered the stillness, sending tremors coursing through the heart of the city.

The people of King's Landing were jolted from their slumber, their dreams shattered like glass. The explosion was a discordant symphony that shattered the peace, awakening the entire city in a frenzy of confusion. Panic spread like wildfire through the narrow streets, as the very ground beneath their feet quivered and groaned.

In the alleys and market squares, in the chambers of the Red Keep and the humble abodes of Flea Bottom, the denizens of King's Landing stumbled out into the moonlit night. Their eyes were wide with terror, and their voices rose in a cacophony of fear and disbelief. Nobody knew what had transpired beneath the Hill of Rhaenys, and whispers of disaster permeated the air.

The once-steadfast walls of the city shook, and the ancient stones groaned as if the very foundations of King's Landing were rebelling against the weight of history. A pervasive sense of foreboding hung over the city like a shroud, and the night seemed to have taken on a malevolent life of its own.

As the chaos unfurled, the chaos deepened. The city guards rushed through the streets, their armor clanging like an ominous herald of impending doom. The septons, their prayers muffled by the uproar, sought solace in the gods, beseeching them for mercy. The smallfolk, desperate and bewildered, ran through the streets, their faces a tableau of fear and desperation.

In the midst of this pandemonium, the Hill of Rhaenys stood, its secrets now laid bare. The dark smoke billowed from the fractured earth, casting a sinister pallor over the once-proud edifices of King's Landing. The unknown had erupted from the very roots of the city, and its impact was felt not only in the trembling ground but in the hearts of those who called the capital home.

The explosive force, unleashed from the very heart of the Hill of Rhaenys, sent shockwaves rippling through the ancient city of King's Landing. As the ground convulsed beneath the weight of unseen chaos, the bowels of the hill disgorged a monstrous plume of dust and rubble. A colossal eruption that seemed to defy the very laws of nature. A herald of dark death and black dread.

Debris and rocks, jagged and unforgiving, soared through the air with the ferocity of vengeful spirits. The night sky, once serene and moonlit, was now obliterated by a shroud of darkness as the vast cloud of dust ascended like a phantom, blotting out the celestial canvas. The moon's silvery glow, once a beacon of calm, succumbed to the brooding shadow cast upon the city.