[Arthur's POV]
Yin, the capital of the Golden Empire of Yi Ti was... to put it bluntly, an almost magical place. Enormously huge, stretching out across the coast and horizon. Arthur felt lost before even setting foot in its port. The city was buzzing with activity, hundreds of thousands, no - millions of inhabitants.
Rhaerra started with the markets, buying spices and silks that only Yi Ti exported. It would take a day for her to be satisfied, while Arthur tried to learn a little bit about the trade. There were too many numbers involved for his liking.
Following that, he acted as an envoy of the Iron Throne, to get an audience with the seventeenth azure emperor. It worked, thanks to Rhaerra's ability to speak their tongue. That woman's talents never ceased to amaze.
And so, here he was, in a palace that seemed larger than all of King's Landing. Their throneroom was absurdly enormous, with the god-emperor seating himself above all others... quite like the Iron Throne, albeit his throne was made entirely of gold, jewels and treasures. The entire throneroom was made of gold, for that matter.
It was not easy on the eyes.
Does one not tire of so much gold?
There were hundreds of guards within the throneroom, wearing elaborate golden armours and crescent-shaped spears. They looked foreign, of course, but Arthur found them to be well-fashioned. Formidable, even. Looks weren't everything, however... the worth of their steel would be in the skill of the man behind it all.
All around the throne were over a dozen veiled women, concubines, no doubt. There was likely even more of them in the palace. Rhaerra did say the god-emperors of Yi Ti were not shy in regards to 'collecting' them.
There was a messenger beneath the Iron Throne, who spoke in common tongue - translating the god-emperor's words.
"His Divine Majesty is most curious. He inquires why you have come so far."
"His Grace, our King, seeks to... build a stronger connection with the Golden Empire of Yi Ti and spread his name far and wide. He has sent me to accomplish this."
Upon translation, the azure emperor sat up, only a little. He rested his head on his hand. His crown, or rather headdress, had several strings of multiple beads of some luxurious material on the front and back. He replied, in turn.
"His Divine Majesty is more interested in the women by your side. If he would have them, his favour would be granted and your request completed."
"This man is unbelievable," Sansa whispered to him.
Arthur frowned in disappointment.
What more could I expect from a man who collects women like trophies...
"Mayhaps we should take his head instead," Valegor considered, raising his poleaxe "That is an act worthy of fame."
The translator spoke, and every guard in the room immediately readied their arms... all at once. A large formation gathered before the golden throne. Arthur was not amused.
"Val, could you not keep your mouth shut?" Arthur glanced at him.
"We could break through them all too easily," Valaegor shrugged.
"I need some good fucking wine... he ought to have some," The Hound remarked.
"We didn't come here to fight," Arthur shook his head. Although he was not so inclined to give his helping hand anymore. "Tell your emperor that starting a conflict here would mean the end of his dynasty. As for the 'women', they are not tools to be bargained with. I extend my sword to crush your foes... any further insult and I shall take your head instead."
The god-emperor now sat up properly, seemingly amused.
"His Divine Majesty wishes to see the worth of your sword, requesting a duel against his greatest soldier."
"Very well," Arthur drew out Nightfall. "I shall face his champion."
The guard at the forefront of the formation marched forward. He was taller than the rest, more physically imposing. Having faced Edric an endless number of times, however... his size wasn't anything that gave him any concern.
The guard spun his elaborate crescent-shaped spear, which was decorated by a strange dragon with whiskers. Flames lit up at the blade. Arthur's lips curled into a slight smile. Fire was his speciality. Arthur's own sword was engulfed in white flames rising from the guard, brighter and more ferocious than any other.
The guard seemed to hesitate for a moment. He didn't expect this.
Still, he approached without fear, swinging his spear first. Arthur blocked the spear's blade - its flames fading with every moment. He then pushed the guard back, who retreated a step. The flames at his spear were gone now... rallying at Nightfall's edge.
Arthur advanced now, dashing forward. His sword was a blur.
The hastily guard put up his guard, but Arthur slipped his sword further down - melting through the shaft's end. The crescent blade fell to the ground.
In the next instant, Arthur's sword was so close to the guard's neck that his armour grew hot... almost boiling.
He retreated several steps, holding his broken spear. Arthur then slowly swung his stray flames to the side, separating the guards at the part of the wall who wanted no part in the fire. The flames struck, exploding against the wall and devastating it.
It was a show of power... one that made it clear where the emperor truly sat;
At Arthur's mercy.
The god-emperor slowly rose from his seat.
"His Divine Majesty apologises for the earlier... unpleasantries. If you would give your sword in his service, even for a short while, he would be grateful."
In truth, the last thing Arthur wanted to do was aid such a man... but it was all in the name of Edric. If it would mean that his sworn brother and King would be reunited with the woman he loved, it was a small price to pay. Besides... the god-emperor would someday kneel down to Edric regardless.
It was only a matter of time.
"Name the pretenders and their locations," Arthur said bluntly. "In turn, there will be an empire-wide celebration in honour of my King's generosity and might. A festival that would last for a moon... and no less."
Surely that would do it, Arthur thought.
"His Divine Majesty agrees."
...
"Not too bad, Ser," Rhaerra remarked. "Very diplomatic."
"Mayhaps it would've been easier to cut off his head and place a Baratheon banner where it used to be," Arthur remarked, shrugging. "But... even if those around me do not have honour, it does not mean that I should stoop down to them."
"Well said."
[Edric's POV]
I wanted to give Arthur a little call after going to sleep, but it was... very rudely interrupted. I was met with a dream of ol' Brynden Rivers, this time of his very body - or what remained of it. Being stuck to a tree isn't a prospect I was fond of.
At that point, I think I'd rather just die...
"This is the first time you've seen how I live."
"Sometimes, you just have to let it go... like a balding man hanging onto his hair. You'd be relieved to shave it all off," I remarked.
"... As fate would have it, the end of my life approaches. The legions of ice marched, now their magic clashes against the barrier, breaking it piece by piece until it shatters to nothing."
"The Night King wishes to take your life?"
"The fall of the last greenseer would make his conquest simpler... and he has grown powerful enough to see it through."
"It's too soon for me to face him, so... it's rather unfortunate."
"Do not pretend to pity me, Edric Stormfyre..." Brynden Rivers closed his eyes. "If you seek victory as you say you do, you will not divide your forces when the time comes. You must choose - the Realm or the family you will have. You cannot hope to protect both."
"... Is that what's written in the stars?" I raised an eyebrow.
"The 'Night King' is cunning, and has seen many battles... defeats and victories. He will have more formidable lieutenants than you will, more than enough to scatter your focus. If you leave your best warriors to protect your family, you will be vulnerable. If you face him with your full force, your family will be vulnerable. If you divide equally... both will be vulnerable. If you wish to protect your family, the kingdoms and known world would be ravaged beyond recognition."
"You will have to make that impossible choice."
"... No," I shook my head. "I will protect both."
"I have warned you, Edric Stormfyre. By seeking the future, you have created many more gaps in your armour. The Night King will seek to exploit those weaknesses. He will react accordingly to each move you make, his eyes in every shadow."
Is that why... the Other Edric was so cold? If he did not care for anything but victory, then what could the Night King have used against him? Nothing at all.
"You could have mayhaps picked a better night to sour," I remarked, shaking my head.
"My time has been cut short... so this shall do," He seemed rather crestfallen. "All of my work lies in your hands now, Edric Stormfyre. The future will be decided by your hand."
"... It always was in my hands, Bloodraven. From the very beginning."
"I am certain that, in the end... You will make the right choice," He took a breath, what sounded like his last. "Although... it truly is a beautiful family. I would have liked to see the end of it all. The future around you always twists and turns, so unpredictable... I wished it were simpler."
"Me too, man... me too," I smiled, nodding. "But, such is life."
"How I would wish... to walk again with my own feet."
"Can't you warg into people and survive?"
'Hey, there's plenty of room in the Plane of Euthymia for another voice.'
No, there isn't.
"This vessel is the pillar behind my power... once it is lost, so too would be my sense of self. This is very much the end."
"Death comes for all things."
"Yes... I've lived far longer than I should have. Strangely enough, it was you who denied me my successor, yet you've also taken the mantle yourself. Or rather, you've passed it down to another..."
"... What do you mean?" I raised an eyebrow.
"You will know."
The dream turned to flame and ash... burning away.
That was the last I ever saw of him.
~
7th day of the 4th moon, 301 AC.
It was a grand day, with golden cloaks, the Stormguard and Kingsguard lining the way to Baelor's Sept. Edric Stormfyre rode through the streets first, his golden cape waving through the air with majesty, with the new sigil of House Stormfyre at its centre. He wore his first crown styled similarly to his father's. The crowd roared wherever he passed.
He'd make his way to the marriage altar, before the High Septon and between statues of the Father and Mother.
Soon enough, Daenerys Targaryen would follow, dismounting herself. She wore an elaborate black cloak with the distinct three-headed red dragon of House Targaryen, which breathed red flames. She wore a very contrasting silver dress of the finest silk, which matched her hair all too well. Her beauty stunned many on this day.
It was tradition for the bride's father to escort the bride to the groom, but he had been dead for near eighteen years. Her closest of living kin around would be Renly and Stannis... who were not exactly Targaryens. Instead of being escorted, she made the walk herself.
It was all traditional apart from that, with the pair making seven vows, invoking seven blessings, and making seven further promises. A wedding song was then sung, which made Edric crack a smile.
"Would any wish to challenge this marriage?" The High Septon questioned.
As Edric's ocean blue gaze scanned the crowd, there was only silence. No challenge would be made. Afterwards, Edric removed Daenerys' Targaryen cloak and replaced it with his own... House Stormfyre's.
The purple-eyed, dragon-winged, crowned black stag on a field of gold, engulfed by sparks of purple lightning and breathing red flame. It was, as the name suggested, a hybrid of Targaryen and Baratheon... with House Baratheon's features taking a more prominent role.
They both nodded slightly.
"With this kiss, I pledge my love."
They shared a short, yet strong kiss.
"And take you for my Queen and wife..."
"And take you for my Emperor and husband..."
They said, respectively.
"I hereby declare you man and wife; one flesh, one heart, one soul, now and forever."