Solo Leveling in Westeros

If you Like this story! Check out my other stories! Shadow Monarch in DC

&

If you wish to read more or simply support me than check out my patreon at

"https://www.patreon.com/FrenzyAren"

You can Get Access to 3 More Chapters OR 7 More Chapters if you want !

/-\\

THE HAND'S TOWER – KING'S LANDING

The chamber was warm with firelight, the pale light of afternoon spilling through the narrow windows. Down in the streets, the city was its usual mess, shouting, haggling, shoving but up here in the Hand's Tower, it was quiet. Just a desk covered in parchment, a few candles burning low, and the work that never seemed to end.

Tyrion Lannister sat at the long table, fingers drumming lightly against a goblet of wine. Beside him, Varys sat perfectly still, his hands folded, his soft eyes watching their guest with caution. Across from them sat Petyr Baelish, a ghost of a smile on his lips, as if he had wandered into the room carrying secrets in his sleeve and was deciding whether or not to spill them.

Petyr spoke first, his voice smooth as usual.

"There are whispers around you see," he began, "that your… king and his Targaryen queen are far from these shores, foreigners that shouldn't sit on the Iron Throne. Whispers that they have not been crowned in the sight of gods or men. By right of conquest, perhaps, but crowns are not forged in battle alone."

Tyrion's mouth curled in a lazy smirk. "Careful, Petyr. In this court, those words are sharp enough to take your head from your shoulders."

Baelish's eyes glittered with amusement. "I am merely observing, my Lord Hand. If… anything were to befall them on their northern venture, there might be… room for certain adjustments."

Tyrion's smirk vanished, replaced with something colder. He leaned forward, voice dropping into that dangerous softness that could slice deeper than steel. "And that is enough to take not only your head, Littlefinger, but the head of your entire house.. Except you don't even have one.. So tell me… do you truly still believe you can weave your little webs here? You clearly haven't seen the king in action."

Petyr chuckled, though there was no warmth in it. "Oh… but I have."

That caught Tyrion's interest. His brows rose slightly, but he didn't speak, letting the silence press the answer from him.

Baelish's eyes took on a faraway glint, and his voice grew quieter. "I watched him drink poisoned wine as if it were the finest vintage in the realm. Then laugh. Laugh, as if death itself were a jester in his court. In that moment, every delicate little plan I had prepared to use against him… burned to ash. That was the day realized that there is no fighting that, so I left. That was the day I tried to convince your father to yield, for nothing and I mean NOTHING works against a monster like that."

He leaned back, his tone turning grim. "And look at him now… and at House Lannister. I hear even Casterly Rock is…"

"I get it," Tyrion cut in, raising a hand to stop him. "Spare me the poetry and speak the truth you came to spit out."

Baelish stood slowly, smoothing his doublet, his shadow stretching long across the floor. "I am merely saying… is it truly for the good of the realm to bend knee to a man like King Aeron and his dragon queen? Tell me, who is the monarch, and who is the consort? I confess, I do not know anymore."

For the first time, Varys spoke. His voice was soft, but it left no room for argument.

"You will know when they arrive."

Baelish studied him for a heartbeat, his smile flickering like a candle in a draft. "I suppose I will."

He turned toward the door, his footsteps slow.

And then it came low at first, then rising into a piercing, bone-shaking cry. A dragon's scream rolled across the city, making the windowpanes tremble. The three men froze, the sound hanging in the air like an omen.

Baelish paused mid-step, tilting his head slightly toward the sound.

Varys, without a word, glided toward the balcony, his silken robes dragged against the stone floor. He stepped out into the daylight, his gaze lifting toward the northern sky, searching.

Tyrion did not move. He merely leaned back in his chair, a smile curling at the corner of his mouth. His mismatched eyes locked on Baelish.

"It seems," Tyrion said at last, his voice rich with quiet amusement, "you won't be waiting long… Littlefinger."

Baelish's lips twitched whether in irritation or intrigue, it was hard to tell but he said nothing. His gaze flicked toward the balcony where Varys now stood in the sunlight.

Outside, the city's atmosphere had already begun to change.

****

King's Landing — The Streets

A shadow passed over Flea Bottom, sending a flock of pigeons scattering into the air. The sound came again, closer now thunder given a voice echoing off the red-tiled roofs and narrow alleyways.

From the east, three vast shapes broke through the clouds, their wings beating with the force of storms. Scales glinted gold, bronze, and black in the sunlight.

The first to see them were the fishmongers at the docks. A young boy dropped a net of silver smelts into the harbor with a splash, his mouth hanging open.

"Seven hells…" whispered an old man beside him, falling to his knees. "The Dragon Queen has returned."

Up on the Street of Silk, painted ladies leaned out of their windows, hair streaming in the wind stirred by the dragons' passing. Some gasped, clutching at their chests others smiled like they were watching the dawn of a new reign.

In the market square, a mother pulled her daughter close, shielding her eyes. "Don't look, my dear," she whispered, though her own gaze was fixed upward. Beside her, an old sellsword with one eye laughed deep in his chest. "Aye… now there's a sight. Three dragons above the capital again just like the old tales. Gods help whoever stands against that."

On the worn stone steps of the Great Sept of Baelor still scarred and yet to be rebuilt a septon's voice rose above the swelling clamor.

"Behold the signs! The gods have sent their chosen to rule!"

Some fell to their knees in prayer; others in fear.

The dragons banked low over the city, their shadows sweeping across the streets like moving night. Some cowered beneath doorways, thinking of fire and ash. Others watched with eyes wide in awe, as though the creatures above were not harbingers of destruction, but heralds of strength proof that the realm was under the protection of a power not seen in over a century.

And above it all, the cry of the dragons rolled on, fierce and unending, claiming the skies and the city below as their own.

Daenerys's eyes swept over King's Landing, the great harbor bustling with ships that bobbed gently against their moorings. The afternoon sun, and the overall peaceful vibes.

She breathed in deeply. "It seems everything is fine here…" she murmured softly, voice barely more than a whisper. Her gaze fell upon the docks where rows of ships stood ready, sails furled and crews visible moving about their tasks. "Tyrion has already invited them all," she said with a small, approving smile, the weight of his cunning and diligence settling comfortably in her thoughts. 'Good.'

Her eyes drifted upward again, taking in the narrow streets winding through the city's heart, alive with the hum of life laughter, shouts, the clatter of hooves on cobblestones. Yet beneath that vitality, a faint unease stirred within her. The city felt like a different world altogether, a place untouched by the frozen horrors of the North.

"They have no idea what is going on…" The thought whispered through her mind, sharp as a blade. They did not know the peril that stalked beyond the Wall, nor the burden her king carried with him. They did not see the frost creeping like a shadow across the land, swallowing all in its path.

Her fingers tightened slightly, a flicker of worry threading through her violet eyes as she remembered the event she witnessed near the wall. "The Cannibal…" she breathed, voice filled with concern.

'I hope he is alright…'

/-\\

If you Like this story! Check out my other stories! Shadow Monarch in DC

&

If you wish to read more or simply support me than check out my patreon at

"https://www.patreon.com/FrenzyAren"