Angores Stark, Lord of Winterfell.

Angores Stark woke early that morning to fight off the sadness in his stomach. The young man made his way through the keep ever so quietly to the god'swood. Once he made it to the pale oak of the wierwood tree he sat on a stone and silently prayed. Angores always came here to the wierwood tree to pray to the Old Gods, they felt more real, more closer to him than R'hllor or the Seven. His mother Daenarys VII Targaryen held the Seven while his father Eddard II Stark held the Old Gods. Sometimes they would argue about it who's religion he would inherit, but the decision was always up to Angores. But that didn't matter now, they were gone. Eddard taken by fever in the night and Daenarys struck with the grief of her husbands death took her own life. Angores felt more alone than ever. He would give anything to here his father japing about how angering his mother would "wake the dragon".

Now a boy of four and ten is Lord of Winterfell and Warden of the north. Angores now unsheathed his sword and began sharpening it with a whetstone. Not that the sword needed sharpening, it was Valeryian steel. Long Claw they call it, wielded by the Dragon Wolf himself. Angores wished he could have met his ancestor Jon Snow the alleged bastard of Winterfell who grew to be the Hero of dawn, the Dragon Wolf. And now that title has fallen to Angores son of Wolf and Dragon and wielder of Long Claw. In a moon's time that would be exactly one thousand years since Jon Snow was the wielder of Long Claw and defeated the night king. Oh how history loves repeating itself, well hopefully not all of itself.

As the dawn grew closer. Angores could see the god'swood more clearly. The blood red leaves of the wierwood tree and the boy standing next to it. Wait a minute. Angores stopped sharpening his sword and quickly stood up as he was startled by the mystery boy. The boy had the looks of a Stark, dark brown hair and gray eyes, he also wore a black doublet similar to his own but it looked far older. The boys hands were behind his back and he stepped forward as to make himself more known. Then without a single error "Winter will always come Lord Stark." The boy said.

"What in the Seven Hells does that mean?" Angores tried asking but before he could get an answer the boy deteriorated into black rags until nothing was left. Angores just stood there, mouth agape in amazement. Maybe the Old Gods, no if the Old Gods wanted to tell me something they wouldn't send a random boy who looks very much like a stark, would they?

Angores couldn't stop thinking about those words "Winter will always come" his house words were "Winter is coming" but later the meaning meant that the White Walkers would come. But these new words would mean the White Walkers will always come. No the night king died Jon Snow the Dragon Wolf killed him, with long claw. The blood and song of ice and fire, the wielder of long claw. Angores now sat in the lord's chair to attend to the daily meetings.

Ever since the war of the long night was won peace reigned for a very long time. Angores wished he had more action in his time as lord than dealing with petty thievery and the occasional murderers. Angores has never had to swing his sword so far. But every time he was confronted with a situation that seemed almost like he had to he could hear his father's words "Our way is the old way".

"Lord Stark?"

Angores hadn't realized that he was in that deep of thought "Yes, Maester?"

Maester Rhaegar III Targaryen was Angores's maternal cousin. The silver haired prince had found his passion in healing and knowledge. And since the death of Angores's mother Rhaegar decided it would be best for him to be with him. "We were just discussing the topic of what to do with the brotherhood without banners."

Oh yes, we were discussing that. Angores, Maester Rhaegar, and Torma Giantsbane Angores's Master At Arms. Torma was a brute of a woman with muscle to rival her ancestor Tormand Giantsbane, and Red curly hair. She was only two years Angores's elder but still she was a lot taller by a foot. Not that Angores was short, he was blessed with the Targaryen height so he stood at six feet but Torma was just massive. "If you hadn't been day dreaming King Crow you would know what we were discussing" she spat.

Everyone in house Giantsbane called the Starks "King/Queen Crow". A lasting nickname that Jon Snow had started. "Sorry Torma, what is the news of the brotherhood without banners?"

Rhaegar thought for a moment "The men have taken to hiding in harrenhal and are now two thousand men strong." Rhaegar said.

"The stupid cravens are held up in the fucking ruin." Torma stated.

"That ruin is still harrenhal, that fortress could have sent an army of a million running, but now I think a small army could be enough." Angores finally spoke "When I ride for Kingslanding for the festival of the dawn I will speak with King Aegon about summing up some troops."

Torma seemed a bit anxious now "Why should we go and beg to the southron king, we are northerners."

"Because my word is law, I am lord and I say we wait, I will not blindly attack and get more of my men killed." Angores now stood "In the mean time, Torma I need you to gather as much information as you can on harrenhal and see if there are any new openings or spots in there defenses."

Torma nodded as did Rhaegar.

"Good, this meeting is now over." Angores left quickly for the halls to his chambers but slow enough to not cause a scene. Unfortunately Rhaegar had quickly caught up to him with his chain rattling in the background.

"Angores, I think you should know that Larra Lannister has sent a raven." Rhaegar said.

Larra Lannister was Angores's betrothed. Angores had only met her once at the tourney in Kingslanding when his cousin Aegon was pronounced king. The Lannister's always had an indifferent relationship with the Starks and Angores's father had saught to change that. "What did she say?"

"That she wishes to speak to you at the festival of the dawn." Rhaegar said.

Angores was just not prepared for today "Thank you cousin, I will send a reply." And with that he returned his walk back to his chambers. Once he entered his room he sunk into the furs of his bed. So warm and welcoming but to warm for him. Angores lifted himself from the large bed and took off his sword belt, his leathers and breaches. Once down to his small clothes he made his way for the door at the back of the room.

The door led to a large bath that was always made to be ice cold. The reason for the harsh temperature was that ever since the war for the dawn the summers have been unreasonably hot and Angores's Targaryen blood usually kept him at boiling temperatures. Once he stripped himself of his small clothes he eased himself into the water.

The icy water quickly cooling himself down. He relaxed onto a corner of the bath, tilted his head back and closed his eyes. Unfortunately the cold water didn't last long because by the time Angores opened his eyes the water was starting to steam and bubble up. Angores fitfully made his way out of the bath. "Stupid fucking blood of the dragon!" He muttered loudly.

Once Angores found a towel in the corner he quickly wrapped himself and entered his chambers. There was a mirror in the corner. As Angores looked into it he noticed that his hair was getting longer and that the tips were silver accented by dark brown. When it came to genetics Angores got the weirdest combination. Instead of having one set from each parent or having only one he got a mix. His hair was dark brown but at the tips were silver and his eyes were another thing entirely. Angores's eyes were a bright violet but around them were rings of dark gray.

Angores put his breaches and doublet on and sat at his wooden desk. He took out a sheet of paper and pen and began to write back to his soon-to-be bride Larra Lannister.