The depth of winter (Game of Thrones AU - Part 1)

I wanted to post the entire fic in one part but:

  • It’s been so long since the last update and I feel terrible that I make you guys wait
  • This is probably going to end up WAY longer than I planned and it might just work out better split up
  • It’s my birthday this Saturday and I wanted to post something before the weekend, since I plan to be a lazy bum for the rest of the day and just rest

I tweaked some of the facts a little bit to fit more into the canon of both TV shows instead of the books. ‘Coming of age’ is reaching eighteenth birthday, not sixteenth. There are also some ideas from the TTG video game thrown in.

Also, have I spent WAY too much time browsing through my “A Feast of Ice and Fire” cookbook? Yes. Yes, I have.

* Morghon/Morghot - “Death” in High Valyrian

Beta-read by @brizzbee



“In the depth of winter, I finally learned that within me there lay an invincible summer.” 

― Albert Camus

Alec stands next to his father in the great hall, discussing the possible terms of the trade they are going to settle when a messenger interrupts their meeting. The delegation from Dorne has been spotted at the bottom of the winding path that leads up to Idris castle. It won’t be long before they make it to the top, so Robert orders his family out to the courtyard to wait for their guests and greet them properly.

The castle is a buzz of activity, people running back and forth. The staff is in a mild state of panic - they have been for couple of days now - not only because of the arriving guests, but also due to Alec’s eighteenth name day celebration that is a little over two weeks away. Alec really, really doesn’t think that any kind of festivity is warranted just for his coming of age, but it’s tradition and Lightwoods are - if nothing else - traditionalists.

Alec stands at his father’s right side, Isabelle on his left, then Max. His mother would have also stood by their father’s side, but giving birth to Max proved to be too much for her body and she passed away shortly after bringing him into this world. At the end of the line is Jace, whose father was assassinated years ago and Robert took in his friend’s son as his ward.

The Dornish party is over forty people strong, but only a dozen or so come up to the castle and the rest set up camp in the village below. Alec stands up a little taller as the visitors enter the courtyard, the sound of horses announcing their arrival even before they’ve entered the gates. Alec has seen Dornishmen before, so their dark skin and sharp features aren’t that much of a surprise. They arrive on sand steeds, an easily recognizable and breathtakingly beautiful breed. There are a handful of guards mixed in the party and at the head of it is the ruling Prince of Dorne, Ragnor Fell. Alec has never met him, but with hair as white as snow - so atypical for Dornish people - he can’t be mistaken for anyone else. He is a tall man, with a strong, chiseled jaw and bushy eyebrows. There is a sword strapped to his side that swings slightly as he descends from his horse and he’s wearing a black and gold travelling cloak - they all are, actually. It’s still the middle of summer and it’s actually pretty warm, but Alec supposes that when you’ve lived in the desert for your entire life, even summer weather in the North must seem freezing cold.

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