A/N: Hello, BrotherCaptainShepard here with a new fic. This has been in my head since I started writing Eagle of Westeros. With how Covid and life is I've lost much of my motivation to write. Today I hope, with this fic, I can finally get off my butt and generate creative juices. Who knows, maybe some of that juice will spill over to Eagle of Westeros.

Oh and when you read, please check the dates. It'll help a lot with the timeline. This one, again is SET BEFORE THE EVENTS OF AGOT!

Sit back, read and leave a review on your thoughts.

Chapter I

Palace of Nebuchadnezzar II, Babylon 323 BC

His body was racked by pain. His fever made thinking almost impossible and he could barely keep his eyes open let alone focused. But his ears.. His ears were clear. He could hear them, those that stood around him. He could hear the whispers of greed, the murmurs of sedition and the wails of sorrow. He could hear them… Even if his mind could not summon the strength to recall who were the people gathered by his side.

"Wait.. Wait.." A woman sobbed, a familiar one to him. "What about our son? Vultures! Wait!" She screamed, her voice growing fainter.

A son? He had been in pain for so long.. so.. so long.

"Alexander, the army will divide. Satrapies will revolt. Without your orders, there will be war!" A deep voice spoke to him, pleading him.

Alexander? Oh… Oh yes.. That was his name. Alexander… Alexander… Son of Olympias of Epirus and Philip of Macedon. Wait.. No! Not Philip. Zeus! Zeus was his father! His mather had always told him so. He was a demigod! A gift of to gods to Macedon.

"We beg you! Tell us who!" A man demanded, a greedy man. "Who will rule this great Empire that you leave us?"

Empire? Oh. Yes. His empire. Not enough. Traitors! Disloyal fiends. To vow to march to ends of the earth and yet turn back before the unknown. Tears fell from his eyes. Not enough…

"Who do you want to rule, Alexander?" Ah, a loyal companion at last. His loyalty will be for nought. The vipers around him will flood his veins with their poison.

"Tell us.." All the battles fought.

"Please, Alexander!" All the lands taken.

"Who will it be?"

"Pray, tell us who!"

"Cleitus! He said to Cleitus!" Cries of disbelief sounded followed by more demands of him. Him! He was Alexander! How dare these jackals demand he give the empire, HIS EMPIRE, to one of them! They had mutinied against him! Refused to fulfill their oaths! Not enough!

The gods would take him. They would take him soon. But by Ares, if he could not have what he desired, then they would not have his legacy.

With supreme effort, he raised his left hand to remove his signet ring. He raised it, knowing, sensing that the entire room was waiting with bated breath. Each of them thought they were going to be the one he would give it to. If he had the strength, a manic grin would have spread his lips but no.. No.. His strength was better saved for his last gasp. His last laugh. There was no more.

He pried his dried lips apart.

In the room's stillness, he could hear his heartbeat.


He could feel their hearts constricting in suspense.


Their sweat beading, then trickling down. Hah! Soon enough, it would be blood that would replace that sweat.

"To the strongest…" He let out a final exhale. His eyes closed. No more worlds to conquer. He knew no more.

The Dark Unknown

Darkness. He could see nothing but darkness. His thought turned melancholy as he pondered his place. Were his deeds not enough to reach the fields of Elysium, the Isles of the Blessed Dead? Was he not even worthy of wandering the Asphodel Meadows, the place for those that have not achieved anything of note?

He was not even ferried over the rivers of the Underworld by Charon. Truly he must be accursed among men.

As his self-loathing grew to almost all compassing levels, he was suddenly blinded by a flash of light followed by a wall of thunder that left him deaf. When his eyes finally recovered from their blindness, he made out seven figures towering over him.

The first was shrouded in shadow. His black cloak billowed with unseen wind. The few glimpses of his face that Alexander had showed an aristocratic face and black opal eyes. They seemed to crash down on him, judging his worth.

The second was a woman. She was dressed in an immaculate dress but wore a helmet while in her hands was a spear and a lantern. Her intelligent calculating eyes regarded him with amusement.

The third was a woman and what a woman. Her golden hair flowed around her shoulders both untaimed and yet perfect. Her dress was of a sheer pink silk. Alexander could see all of her, her pearl-like nipples perched on two apple-sized breasts that were perky and without sag, her sensous belly, her full hips and hairless crotch. His cock began to rise as he regarded her. The fox winked at him and turned her body to shake her perfect ass at him. She exuded sensuality and passion.

The fourth was a man with a powerful body. His shoulders were wide, his arms thick and his hands big. He wore a worker's chiton underwear, showing off his muscular chest. His eyes seemed to be made of fire but a look of amusement was on his face, this one unlike the others was not looking at Alexander but regarding the previous woman.

The fifth was a man of imposing build, even amongst his peers. He wore the battle gear of a hoplite. A cuirass, a helmet, shin greaves, arm guards, a sword strapped to his side, a spear held in his right and a shield carrying the symbol of a snarling dog on his left. All of his armor was a blood red, whether it was from the metal or of blood itself, Alexander did not know. This man's aura was that of bloodlust.

The sixth was a woman regal in bearing. Her robes were a golden shimmer, her black hair done exquisitely, held together under a short golden crown. Her eyes held both judgement of his actions as a man and the love of a mother for a child.

The last was a man, wearing robes of pure white light that left a muscular right chest bare. His eyes crackled with power as bits of lightning sparked out of them. His beard was magnificient and curled out like dignified parts of a cloud.

Alexander knew, he knew these weren't mere mortals. All of them were of a height twice that of his and all of them exuded power, the likes he had never felt before. Alexander, conqueror of nations and slayer of thousands would never bow before any man. But before these… He was no fool and strangling his pride, he knelt before them.

"Good." The man in dark robes said. "A mortal who knows their place."

"May I inquire, why I am here, my lords and ladies?" Alexander asked, politely as he could.

The helmeted woman smiled. "Ah. And one who knows the wisdom of politeness. Yes. You may."

Alexander waited for her to continue but she didn't. Finally, he sighed. "Why am I here, my lady?"

"Get on with it already!" The workman grumbled.

"Don't be such a grumple, Phastie!" The sensous temptress giggled.

"Don't call me that!" The workman growled. "So help me, I will bend you over my knee, woman!"

"Ooohhh… Kinky! Its been a few centuries since you've ventured into my bedroom, Phastie. Are you sure you're up for it?" The temptress said, biting her lip.

The other figures began snipping at each other, growing louder and louder.

The matron snapped her fingers and all was silent. Sighing, she focused on Alexander. "As you may have noticed, we are bored."

Alexander frowned in confusion. "Bored?"

All seven figures nodded. "Bored."

"And I am your entertainment?" Alexander asked, insulted.

"Yes." The armored hoplite growled.

"Why?" Why me?

"Because you are my son." The thunderer rumbled.

Well, he thought, it was nice to know it wasn't his mother's delusions or complete ass kissing from those priests. Even he had half believed it all his life but now that was from the gods themselves, he was happy to have the truth.

"You will be reborn in another land." The Thunderer decreed. "Of those that dwell there, a large portion worship the Seven of Us, though they know us by different names."

"Forgive me," Alexander paused. "But why would you need to have me reborn? Have I not earned Elysium?"

"Yes." The ruler of the Underworld stated simply.

"Then why~"

"Because we are bored!" The goddess of love whined. Alexander blinked at her. Why was the goddess of love acting like a spoiled child?

"Against my better judgement, I have agreed that some form of entertainment is warranted for Olympus." The goddess of wisdom sighed. "The last time they were this bored, the Trojan War happened."

"Hey! That's not fair! You were one of the ones who started it, Athena!" Aphrodite cried, pointing an accusatory finger at Athena. The goddess of wisdom turned her head away, her cheeks slightly red with embarrassment. "All because you couldn't handle losing in a contest of beauty. It's not my fault, I am the most beautiful goddess of us all."

Athena growled. "You cheated! You made him think with his cock and not with his head! If you had not offered the fairest mortal, he would have chosen me!"

The two goddesses continued throwing accusations and insults, getting more and more vulgar as they escalated.

"For the sake of Olympus not destroying itself, you will entertain us." The goddess Hera stated, completely ignoring the shrieks of the other two goddesses that she had been involved in it as well. Before he could protest, she continued. "In exchange we," she waved a hand encompassing the other gods and goddesses. "will give you gifts and a new world to conquer."

When she said those words, Alexander froze. That wish had been buried in his heart of hearts. He looked into her knowing gaze. They had him.

"I… Accept."

This brought smiles to the faces of the gods and goddesses, some more manic than others.

"Excellent. All we require of you is that you be entertaining." Athena said.

"And make sure to have a lot of kids." Aphrodite smiled, a sensous smile but one that promised pain if he didn't deliver.

Alexander was slightly confused by that but he nodded all the same. What else could he have done.

"Farewell, son. And who knows, if you entertain us enough, we might have you reborn again. Good entertainment is so hard to find." Lord Zeus laughed before waving a hand. The Seven vanished and Alexander was once again alone.

728 BC, Sandship, Dorne

A ugly squat but quite large dun-colored keep rose out of the sandy rocks, overlooking the Narrow Sea. Around it were a large collection of mud and stone huts. A person from anywhere else in Westeros outside of a Northener would turn their nose up and scoff at the apparent poverty of the lord of the keep, who does not even have enough wealth to build the castle of pure stone. An eyesore of a keep for an eyesore of a land, the visitor might say. Dorne was still divided among warring lords and petty kings while the rest of Westeros had united in each region under one king. The Starks of Winterfell for the North, The Arryns of the Eyrie for the Vale, The Hoares of Orkmont for the Iron Islands,

The Lannisters of Casterly Rock for the Westerlands, The Durrandons of Storm's End for the Stormlands and the Gardeners of Highgarden for the Reach.

As the fates would have it, those that lived under the shadow of its walls were not scratching out a subsistence or fighting among themselves. This night, they prayed to the gods. For tonight, the lady of the Sandship was in labor. They prayed for her health and the health of the child but within each heart was a hidden wish. A cry that was almost never let out to the gods for fear that it might be squashed with the hammer of dismissal. The cry for someone to come, to unite them and make them better than they were. A savior. A king.

Tonight… Their prayers were answered.

"It is a son, my lady." A old man in a grey robe said to an exhausted lady. He brought the squealing babe, just recently birthed and cleaned, to his mother. "What shall you call him, my lady?"

The mother stared lovingly at the boy in her arms. "Mors… His name shall be Mors. Mors Martell. May you grow up wise and strong, my love."

(20 or so years before the Rhoynar Migration)

A/N: And here we are. Please leave a review.