Disclaimer: Game of Thrones is the property of George R. R. Martin.
The North
-Prologue—
When people speak of the Targaryen's they think of Old Valyria, dragons, and the greatest civilization known to exist. When people speak of the southern kingdoms of Westeros they speak of chivalry, knights, culture, and beauty; both the land and people. In the free cities of Essos and the territories beyond, the people will think of the various arts, crafts and trade skills to be offered and sold. Yet, when the Kingdom of the North is mentioned or spoken of it is always with disdain or contempt; forever viewed as a backwater or savage place where children play with wild animals, women lay with dark creatures and the men are berserkers who hunger for human flesh.
Fanciful and unbiased falsehoods. The truth however, is stranger than fiction. Like all stories this one has a beginning, middle, and end; but in truth where does it begin and how does it end?
I suppose the story begins in the time when the children of the forest and the first men lived, fought, then tried to coexist with each other. As such, the first men learned much of the ancient arts of the Old Gods and the traditions of the old ways. When the Andals invaded they brought the Faith of the Seven and burned the weir wood trees in the southern kingdoms. The children feared more the evil of the Long Night to come more than man fighting each other for petty reasoning. And thus, they disappeared back into the forest, never to be seen again. With the children's disappearance the first men soon faced the Great Other and his servants. Though personally I no longer believe such stories and the wall could have been built for any number of reasons.
The wall, although a great wonder to be sure, caused a deep divide of sorts among the northern houses and the people. Long after the Starks had fought for the right to rule over the great realm King Brandon Stark, later known as Bran the builder, masterminded and oversaw the construction of the great marvel. Supposedly built to protect the realms of man from the Great Other. The rift came after those who built it were forced to live on either side. To this day no one still knows how this came about, and if they knew they're most likely dead or the truth was lost. As my houses' forebears tell it, amongst the bloodshed and battle, a young and lonely figure stood before the wall with tattered clothes rusted armor and sword.
"Good people of the North! I stand before each of you a free and noble individual not by birth, not by choice, and not by merit. The blood of the first men flows within me, just as it does each of you. The gift of freedom is the right of all regardless of birth, as it should not matter in this great land; that all of us call home, who lords over whom and who bends knee or doesn't. Too much blood has been shed over an issue that can no longer be remembered No matter what happens from this day, until the last day of my bloodline I swear by the old gods. Wherever others seek to divide us, we stand united. whenever evil and death seek to destroy, we fight so that others may live freely and in peace. And if tyranny and injustice is ever visited on my fellow countrymen, then nothing will save you from my wrath! Iron within and iron without!"
At first the Night's Watch were baffled. The idea that a wildling could challenge their authority and purpose so eloquently was maddening. After the declaration was made he challenged all those gathered to bring forth the Stark king to hear him out or face him in combat. The watchmen tried taunts and intimidation. To my ancestor's credit he stood his ground and taunted back, saying the king was mighty and noble indeed to fear a mere boy. When the wolf king eventually heard this combined with the fact that even as he received the message the boy had not moved. Some say it was curiosity, others will claim fury as motivation; but whatever the case the king stood face to face with the young boy. Only those two individuals will ever know what was spoken and taken to the grave. For his words and for his efforts the wildlings or free folk became north men once more. The few tribes of giants were treated equally and with respect for their skills and knowledge. Lastly, despite protests amongst the other lords, the boy was elevated to lordship with the creation of House Perturabo. Iron within, Iron without. These would eventually become the very words of my house. Words that defined not just who we are as a people but as one unified nation when forced.
Soon the question rose as to where this newfound house and its thousands of followers, that seemed to defy anything everything and anyone would call home. Within the mountain chain that nears the shores of Bear Island lied the tribes of the mountain clans. The assumption was that they were being invaded and so fought to protect their way of life. The odds proved greater then initially thought. Facing extinction or subjugation they too took to the ways of my ancestor's house. With land to call their own and enough manpower they began to craft a living within one of the mountains from the inside out. Vast halls and tunnel networks each being improved and expanded on generation after generation. Excavations deep below the roots of the mountain yielded vast veins of precious metals, both for trade and war. Above all were the great quantities of silver and diamonds. This led to great wealth that, to this day, my house enjoys leading many to call my home Silver Peak; a kingdom under the mountain. Despite the wealth power and status that my ancestor possessed he chose instead serving as advisors to the Starks who were, after all, the rulers of the North. Jealousy is an ugly thing after all.
As the centuries of years passed the region became more and more flourished with various levels of growth and expansion. Fortified villages and towns sprung forth from the influx of those from distant lands seeking new opportunities. The northerners for their part accepted the newcomers and the changes they brought with them. When priests of the seven or those of the fire god came, they were treated with a cold and icy hospitality. We may have our differences, but we still hold to our traditions and beliefs. Those of the south saw the threat of the north's potential and sought to curb its enterprises or undermine the unity of the north by playing to the fears and jealousies of the various lords. Border skirmishes and territorial disputes soon became the norm. House Manderly and House Mormont became the foremost experts in dealing with sea raiders and pirates. House Ryswell were the masters of the warhorse and everyone of their men at arms is a skilled rider. Say what you will about the land we live in, for we care not. For only we know that hard land breeds hard fighters. But before any major battles could be waged, soon a new unstoppable force would emerge.
Aegon Targaryen along with his sister-wives Visenya and Rhaenys invaded the kingdoms of Westeros with the intent of conquest. History of those early days leading to the infamous 'Field of Fire' battle has already been recorded; not to mention that King Torrhen Stark, while having an army equal in size and force to Aegon's, still bent the knee to save his people from the dragon's wrath. What happened next, few if any are alive now to remember the story.
First, it is known that Visenya was a true warrior. Her skill with a weapon and her fearlessness matching her beauty that any man would give to possess. Many a rumor or tale has been told that while married to her brother out of duty she sought love in the arms and beds of others. While I do not give credence to any far-fetched tales, I may be living proof that there may yet be some manner of truth; but I digress. While Stark and Aegon made history in one fashion Sigismund, my closest ancestor, and Visenya decided in secret to make theirs. As my Grandfather told me, it was a warrior's courtship where they dueled each other first with words and wits. They challenged the others' ideologies religions and ways of life. After some time, it soon escalated to a contest of skills and willpower, to see who could defeat the other in feats both small and great. Many times, money changed hands in bets made and it was said that even Aegon contributed. At first glance it was public knowledge that it was strictly a fierce rivalry, but for those that observed closely it could be said that it was perhaps the only time; save for battle, that Visenya was smiling and happy.
When the Dornish killed Rhaenys it was not Aegon that Visenya sought comfort from for he did not love her as much as he did his other sister-wife. Instead, riding her dragon Vhagar hard for the North she confessed before Sigismund her true feelings the only way she knew. On that day he delved deep into the catacombs of the mountain that none dared travel alone. When he returned to the surface he asked that Vhagar assist him in producing fire for the forge. Six days and six nights he labored using various methods to fashion his gift for a warrior goddess such as her. When he finished on the seventh day he gave her the Heirloom of our house; the Heart of the Mountain. Unlike that useless iron throne, the heart served a purpose, what that is I know not. Some weird and vague prophecy.
Although he too confessed his feelings for her he found himself torn between his many duties Sigismund knew not how best to help his newfound love. Facing the prospect of death and being branded oath breaker, he roused an army of thousands and rode beside his queen in her vengeance against Dorne. Though fierce fighters the concept of organization was foreign to the soldiers of the mountain. Still is if you ask me. Under Visenya's tutelage it became the best fighting force to walk the earth; an Iron Legion. Upon arrival between her dragon and his legion the visited horrors not seen since the field of fire. The Dornish people resorted to hit and run tactics, striking like unseen serpents. The atrocities that were inflicted would leave lasting scars of almost every kind for all those involved. The rulers of House of Martell have the words 'Unbowed, Unbent, Unbroken' yet came close to extinction like their fellow Dornish against the wrath of Sigismund 'the Avenger'. A half giant, some would say wielding a great sword that none save he could lift with one hand. At the last battle, starving and outnumbered, he rode alone mounted on a white destrier brandishing his weapon and his muscled torso bare shining from the burning sun high above. None could challenge him, then again no one could but even after the fighting Dorne and the North would never forgive or forget.
When peace was finally and reluctantly achieved with Dorne Visenya saw fit to return to ruling alongside her brother-husband and eventually bore him a son; Maegor. Shortly thereafter Sigismund introduced his firstborn daughter Alysha to the North amongst immense joy but also whispers. What became of the two's relationship after the Dornish War no one will ever know, but it was rumored that while she was pregnant she fiercely and defiantly confronted Aegon.
"My dearest brother and husband. It's no secret that there is or may not have been any love between us, and you yourself once confided in me in our bed that all the love you could possess in this world would be only for her. To this you know I bear no ill will, for I too found perhaps true love; to a northerner of all things. He and I shared secrets just as you and me. And both of my children will know me and the love I now bear for them till my last day. But if ever a lesson be needed, then let it be now. Should anything untoward happen to myself or the child that grows within me than I shall tell you what comes. You seem content in the southern hubris that the North breeds slow savage and stubborn individuals. Unlike the charm and supposed beauty that surrounds us they're not a fiery and impulsive people, for those people live in far colder climates and under threat from things far worse than us in the far lands of the frozen wastes; or did it not occur to you as to why that great chunk of ice was created. Should they ever decide to move in any given direction, they will move with steady momentum and perseverance of a mighty avalanche; and what I truly fear is that when it comes, it will overwhelm the entire south."
Words said to have been spoken in confidence to Aegon before his death. Suffice it to say that for all else that may or may not have happened in the world when Dowager Queen Visenya Targaryen passed from this mortal existence there was great and terrible mourning from the mountains of Silver Peak. Almost as if the rest of the world outside the northern mountains did not exist. What became of the Heart stone remains a mystery to this day. It was claimed to have been burned along with her body as is Valyrian tradition, but as myself and all my blood will tell you it was forged from dragon fire with magic of the old gods. Many have searched and found nothing but death. Sigismund himself, in his grief, ceased to live without his dragon queen. His daughter and her children would take this as a lesson that anything outside of the mountain brought nothing but pain and heartbreak.
More years would pass, and many events would take place. Some beyond our control and others not as much; the Age of Heroes, the war of the ninepenny kings, the Dance of Dragons, these events like others passed without so much as a mention of the House of Perturabo; but we have observed and prepared. Even when Robert's Rebellion took place we were there. For while others forget, the North remembers.
"Iron within, Iron without."