Third Person POV
299 AC, King's Landing – Night
The Red Keep loomed like a slumbering beast, its towers piercing the moonless sky, torchlight flickering on its crimson walls. Dominic Augustus and Jon Snow crept through the shadows, their cloaks blending with the night. As they neared the keep's outer gates, Dominic raised his wand, his golden eyes glinting, casting a disillusionment charm. A ripple of magic cloaked them, rendering them near-invisible, their forms shimmering like heat haze. Jon's grey eyes widened, his breath catching, but he nodded.
They slipped through a side gate, the iron creaking faintly, and entered the Red Keep's courtyard. Gold cloaks patrolled in pairs, their crimson capes swaying, torches casting long shadows. Dominic's Observation Haki hummed, tracking their movements. He locked onto a lone gold cloak, a wiry man with a nervous gait, and raised his wand. "Imperio," he murmured, his voice a velvet command. The man's eyes glazed, his posture slackening as Dominic's will seeped into his mind. "Lead us to the dungeons where Eddard Stark is held," Dominic ordered, his voice low.
The gold cloak nodded mechanically, turning and moving towards a stone stairwell descending into the keep's bowels. Dominic and Jon followed, their disillusioned forms silent, the stench of damp stone and despair growing stronger. The stairwell opened to the dungeon's entrance, where two guards stood, their spears glinting. Dominic's earth-bending stirred, the ground trembling faintly. With a sharp gesture, stone spikes erupted from the floor, piercing the guards' bodies up to their skulls, their screams cut short. Blood pooled, dark and slick, as the spikes retracted, leaving the bodies slumped.
Jon's jaw tightened, his grey eyes flickering with unease, but he said nothing, his focus on the mission. They followed the gold cloak deeper, past cells filled with moans and shadows, until they reached a heavy iron door. The gold cloak fumbled with a key, unlocking it to reveal Eddard Stark, chained to the wall, his face gaunt, his grey eyes weary but unbowed.
Ned's voice rasped, sharp with suspicion. "What do you want, gold cloak? More of Cersei's lies?"
Dominic raised his wand, his grin cold. "Avada Kedavra." A green flash lit the cell, and the gold cloak crumpled, lifeless. Ned flinched, his chains rattling, his eyes wide with shock. Dominic flicked his wand again, dissolving the disillusionment charm, revealing himself and Jon.
Ned's gaze locked onto Jon, his voice a mix of disbelief and relief. "Jon? How… what are you doing here, lad? You're supposed to be across the sea!"
Jon stepped forward, his voice urgent, his grey eyes burning. "I came as soon as I heard you were taken, Father. I'm here to get you out—you, Sansa, Arya. We're leaving this snake pit tonight."
Ned's brow furrowed, his voice rough but steady. "How did you get here, Jon? The Red Keep's crawling with guards. You can't just walk into a dungeon without raising alarms. What's going on?"
Jon shook his head, his tone firm. "That's not important now, Father. All that matters is getting you safe. Arya's already on a ship, waiting for us at the docks. We need to move—now."
Ned's eyes flicked to Dominic, his suspicion lingering. "And who's this, Jon? I don't know his face."
Jon clasped Ned's shoulder, his voice warm with trust. "This is Dom, a friend of mine. He's the reason we're here, Father. He's got… skills. Trust him like you trust me."
Dominic inclined his head, his grin guarded, hiding his identity. "Lord Stark, it's an honor. Let's get you out of these chains and this city."
Ned nodded, his jaw set, though his eyes remained wary. Jon drew his sword, its steel glinting, and struck the shackles, the metal shattering under the blade's edge. Ned staggered free, his legs weak, but Jon steadied him, his strength enhanced by the super-soldier serum. Dominic cast another disillusionment charm, cloaking them in invisibility. "Stay close," he whispered, leading them out.
They ascended the dungeon stairs, Ned's breath heavy but determined, Jon's arm supporting him. The Red Keep's corridors were quiet, but danger lurked. Dominic guided them to a secluded alcove, its tapestries muffling sound. He murmured a spell, casting a notice-me-not charm, ensuring passersby would ignore them. "Stay here," he told Jon. "I'll find Sansa and any others. Don't move."
Jon nodded, his grey eyes fierce. "Hurry, Dom. We're on borrowed time."
Dominic vanished into the shadows, his Haki twirling. He spotted a gold cloak patrolling a torchlit hall and cast "Imperio," his voice a whisper. Show me where Sansa Stark and her retinue are kept. The guard's eyes dulled, and he nodded. "Only Sansa Stark and her companion remain alive," the guard said, his voice flat. "The rest are dead or scattered."
"Show me," Dominic commanded. The guard led him to a small room, where a girl—Jeyne Poole, Sansa's companion—slept on a cot. Dominic raised his wand. "Stupefy!" A red flash knocked her out, and he hoisted her over one shoulder, her slight frame limp.
"Show me to Sansa," he ordered. The guard led him to a tower chamber, its corridor guarded by two gold cloaks. Dominic's wand flicked twice—"Avada Kedavra!"—and green light snuffed out their lives, their bodies crumpling. He turned to the guard who led him here, his voice cold. "You're done." Another green flash, and the guard fell dead.
Dominic entered Sansa's room, finding her asleep, her auburn hair fanned across the pillow. "Stupefy," he whispered, knocking her out. He lifted her over his other shoulder, her silk gown trailing, and retraced his steps to the alcove where Jon and Ned waited.
Jon's eyes widened with relief, his voice low. "You found them. Thank the gods."
Ned's face softened, seeing Sansa, but his voice was gruff. "Is she hurt?"
"Just asleep," Dominic said, his grin sharp. "Let's move." He recast the disillusionment charm, cloaking them all, and they slipped through the Red Keep's halls, avoiding patrols, deflecting curious eyes. The harbor's salt air greeted them as they reached the docks, the Swift Gull waiting at pier three, its lanterns dim.
Arya, Syrio, Gendry, and Hot Pie were already aboard, their faces tense. Arya rushed to Ned, hugging him fiercely, her voice breaking. "Father! You're alive!"
Ned held her close, his voice rough. "Arya, my girl. You're safe."
Jon carried Sansa and Jeyne below deck, laying them on bunks, their breathing steady. Dominic boarded briefly, his voice low. "Jon, you've got your family. Sail to White Harbor, then to Winterfell. Use the mirror if you need me."
Jon clasped his hand, his grey eyes grateful. "Thank you, Dom. For everything."
Dominic grinned, stepping back to the dock. "Family helps family, Snow. Stay sharp." He raised his wand, casting a massive disillusionment charm over the Swift Gull, its form fading for an hour. "Sail now, captain," he ordered the grizzled man, who nodded, shouting orders to his crew.
The ship's sails unfurled, catching the wind, and it glided from the harbor, vanishing into the night. Dominic watched until it was beyond King's Landing's horizon, his golden eyes glinting. With a crack, he apparated back to Astapor, the Red Keep none the wiser.
Astapor – Midnight
Dominic reappeared in Astapor's palace, the red-brick walls bathed in dawn's light. Daenerys and Missandei awaited him in their private room, their faces tense. "It's done," Dominic said, his grin sly. "The Starks are free, sailing north. The Lannisters will wake to an empty cage."
Daenerys's violet eyes gleamed. "Well played, Dom. What now?"
Dominic's voice was steel. "We hold Slaver's Bay, prepare for the Free Cities' wrath. The game's heating up, and we're just getting started."
Across the Narrow Sea
The Swift Gull sailed north, Arya watching the horizon, Needle at her side. In the North, Robb Stark called his bannermen to rescue his father and sisters, the Young Wolf's howl rising. Stannis Baratheon declared himself The King with the Crowned stag in the background is a heart that is on fire as his banner. Renly Baratheon, who is now in alliance with Tyrells, is soon to be wed to Margery Tyrell. He declared himself the King, with Renly's banner displaying a golden crowned stag on a field of green.
The game of thrones burned, its pieces shifting in a storm of fire, ice, and blood.