Castle Black
Rhaegal knew that they had grown quite a lot despite how relatively short their stay had been. The green and bronze dragon was now far larger than any horse, well over twice the size of a destrier, with Viserion not being far behind. If either dragon were to guess why they were growing so large so fast, it would have to be due to the fact that the Wall simply oozed pure magical power. It bolstered their strength and growth rate several times over, though it at times did ensure that the two dragons had some, for a lack of a better word, growing pains. Each dragon found their bodies to be in a state of constant soreness, leading to them both resting to ease the pain. They knew the lingering magic from the Wall would continue to bolster their growth long after they had left to war, it was something that could be so acutely felt even now.
It had helped that after the battle, both dragons had taken to feeding on the giants that the Wall men had killed. There was much strength to be gained from devouring the bodies of the two giant men, they too being creatures with a healthy amount of magic within them. It had only served to increase their growth rate even further, making them both stronger and more than ready for the coming fight. Yet as the humans all prepared to march and go to war, Rhaegal couldn't help but be extremely grateful that they would have a break from the overpowering magic of the Wall. Viserion would have liked to stay a bit longer to soak up a bit more strength, but ultimately there was nothing either dragon could do about it, not if they wanted to be with Aenar.
Rhaegal bore witness as Aenars forces were marshalled and prepared to march, and watched as many ravens began to fly to bring news to different houses all over the North. Their rider proved to be busy ensuring everyone was properly prepared to march south, and considering the sheer size of his host as well as what it was made up of, it was a wonder that the budding king was able to organize them at all. The Stags forces proved to be ready to march within a few short hours, being made up of well trained and professional soldiers for the most part. The only ones with the Stag army that weren't soldiers were the former rivals own family and the flame priestess, leaving few who had to be sorted out to decide who would stay behind. The Red Woman was not someone Rhaegal or Viserion had come to trust, not in the slightest.
It was more than just the fact that she emitted a magical aura to rival Aenars, though they supposed it was with more effort than their rider. It was more the fact that she had dared to attempt and test the bond that Rhaegal and Viserion had put so much time into forging. The dreams Aenar had of dragons had, in part, been their efforts to form a bond with their fated rider long before they ever had the chance to meet. Even when Rhaegal learned to fly initially, admittedly they didn't want to leave their mother, at least at first. It would feel like a betrayal, and they didn't want to leave Daenerys to fend with only two small dragons. That changed the moment she tried to place Rhaegal and Viserion in bondage underneath a pyramid, hidden from the sight of the rest of the world.
Viserion had only begun to form a bond with Jon when they began their journey to the Wall that he resided at, with Rhaegal's assistance (As well as having to fight through the extreme feelings of jealousy and possessiveness, on top of things). It was only due to the fact that Rhaegal acted as an intermediary and helped Viserion form a bond with Aenar that they were at all able to in the first place. After all, normally a dragon was not only vain, but incredibly jealous. Dragons of old tolerated no other dragon being with their chosen rider, and refused to tolerate those that tried to forcefully master them or to use them for their own gain. It had taken a great amount of restraint on both Rhaegal and Viserion's part when they felt how the Red Woman was trying to pry.
They had been tempted to either raise hell and light her with the flames of her beloved light god, or to alert Aenar to the intrusion so that he may remove her head from her shoulders. They remembered the wild skin changer that had attempted to steal them both so blatantly from Aenar, yet this was not quite that. It was a more subtle attempt at probing their bond, and Rhaegal saw it for what it was. Testing for weaknesses. If only due to the fact that she was supposed to be an important advisor to one of Aenars current allies, they would have ensured her death and ended the threat before it could cause any problems. It was such a shame that the humans all preferred to be rather difficult.
Both dragons had considered perhaps requesting the assistance of Ghost. Rhaegal rather enjoyed the presence of the direwolf, whether it be when his soft fur was laid against their belly or when his cool presence helped to sooth the fire that raged within. He had no fear of either dragon, accepting them as new parts of his own partner and treating them like family. Yet even as Rhaegal curled as tightly as they could around the form of the white direwolf, Viserions neck and wing laid on their emerald back, both dragons knew in the end they couldn't ask such a thing of their furry bond mate and friend. He was not as large nor as strong as either of them, and if he were to take on such an endeavor there would be just as much outrage, with the high possibility that the albino would be killed.
Such an outcome was not acceptable. And so for now, Rhaegal would wait along with their bronze sibling. If the Red Woman had yet to learn from her previous failed attempts, jabs courtesy of Rhaegal and Viserion that caused the threat extreme pain in the head, then they would both take the issue to Aenar and make sure he knows what the Stags priestess is up to. They were certain Aenar would properly handle the problem if there came a time for it to need to be handled by someone other than his new law master.
Several more hours later, Aenars forces began their march to Last Hearth. At the head of the host was the Stag and his forces, bearing the banner of the crowned flaming stag. Yet larger banners were held near the front and by a few giants that had agreed to assist in ensuring their army was properly identified. The banner had a dark background, yet rather than bearing the red three headed dragon of House Targaryen, it bore a personal sigil crafted by the wild folk as a gift. A dragon with two heads rather than three, with half of its body being green and the other half cream. A tail and a wing went to each half of the dragon, while the face of a white wolf with red eyes laid staring from the loose curl of its two tails.
Rhaegal rather liked the new banner personally, and if they were right, Aenar seemed to appreciate it far more than he did the standard banner of House Targaryen. A good personal sigil, and one that felt only a bit less menacing than the red three headed dragon of his sires house. Now with the army on the move, the green dragon flew above the head of the army where Aenar rode at the forefront, the Stag at his side along with the wild king. There was some sadness at having to leave his compatriots behind at the wall, yet their rider understood that good men were needed to hold the line until such a time as the kingdoms were properly reunited. Aemon had refused to abandon his own vows, having felt he did all he could for the young monarch. The loyal knight also decided to stay true to his vows, despite having committed no crime he had taken his oath knowing full well what it would mean.
Unlike Aenar. Technicalities as they would be seen by the rest of the realm, perhaps, but Aenar needed nothing more than technicalities. Not when he had such a loyal dragon like Rhaegal after all. If anyone had an issue with the fact that Aenar had never known that he was a Targaryen and gave an oath under false pretenses, than they could take their arguments to the dragons of his direwolf, the white wolf staying close to his master's side even as they rode at the head of an army of those loyal to Aenars cause. The Stag stayed close to his king, his countenance as stern and serious as ever in the face of oncoming battle.
It took the better part of the rest of the day to reach a mere quarter of the way to the Last Hearth, having spent much time preparing the host to move. When they settled down for the night, it was the wild folk who proved quicker about setting up a suitable camp, made that much easier now that it had been decided who would go and who would stay behind to defend the likes of the children, the elderly, and the physically weak. Fifteen thousand wild folk warriors and spearwives chose to march with Aenar and the Stags southern forces, taking seven giants along for the march. Even if House Umber should refuse to fight alongside Aenar and help free Winterfell, the flayed lord would be crushed.
As they settled down to camp for the night, Rhaegal made their way down to the ground with Viserion while Ghost and Aenar waited for them. A bedroll was held under one of his arms while he looked up at the two dragons with a small, tired smile. Rhaegal landed on one side of the pair while their lighter sibling landed behind the Targaryen and his direwolf. The green dragon laid down on their side and brought their snout over to Aenar, lightly nudging him closer to their warm belly. The Stark colored Targaryen needed no further invitation, setting up his bedroll and laying against the warm and soft underbelly of his mount. Ghost came up to lick Rhaegals snout, getting an answering lick along the back of his head in response, before he then went to curl up with Aenar.
Viserion curled their tail around Rhaegals front, placing their head along the green dragons back. Rhaegal did the same, lowering a wing to cover Aenar and Ghost with Viserion then being the next to put their wing over the top of them. With the direwolf and bonded Targaryen being suitably covered, the two large dragons settled in and made themselves comfortable while the Stag and Wild King watched over the group. His former hand to the Stag watched the scene of the young man getting comfortable with his bonded animals with a raised eyebrow, while the wild one simply had a smile on his face as he shook his head.
It wasn't long before Rhaegal and Viserion both drifted off to sleep, ready to wake back up at a moments notice. Such a thing would likely be unnecessary though, with the Stag and Wild King both stationing loyal and trustworthy men around to keep watch, making sure the next set of guards would be ready to rotate out and keep the dragon king safe. They refused to have ended up suffering through so much, to have given up so much for the boy who had promised them so much, to be killed by someone who had the ambition needed as well as the hate to try and kill him or any of his animals for their own personal gain.
No one would dare to lay a finger on their king.
Meereen
Daenerys currently stood on the balcony outside of her quarters, a sweet glass of red wine held in her hand as she looked over her city. Currently the Golden Company could be found camped outside its walls, the majority of her unsullied now being stationed along the walls and port to keep an eye on Aegon's sell swords and to discourage them from attempting to lay siege to the city should they get impatient. The Second Sons patrolled the streets along with the growing freedmen levies, the Sons of the Harpy having been relatively quiet as of late. She was concerned about their lack of action, but she was more worried about how she was to handle her nephew.
So far, it seemed he was who he claimed to be. Though what concerned her more was if he was hiding something. If he was far more alike to Viserys than he let on, and was simply waiting for her to let her guard down so that he could try to take advantage of her. Ser Barristan seemed to want to trust in the boy, though after having to deal with Cersei's spoiled prince, he seemed a bit hesitant. He knew Jon Connington well, and he had his doubts that the man didn't try to worship the very ground the boy walked on. He had for Rhaegar, and though he disdained Elia, they doubted that would taint his affection for a son of Rhaegar.
Her hand clenched around the glass in her hands, her jaw tightening as she sighed and brought a free hand up to her forehead. She knew that ruling wouldn't be easy, even when her brother had his own delusions of women from Westeros proudly sewing their house banners while the lords of Westeros secretly prepared their armies and toasted to the return of Targaryen rule. It was a dream at best, and an insane delusion at worse. Yet she hadn't imagined she would receive such fierce resistance for merely freeing people from bondage, at least not at first.
When she first gained the loyalty of the unsullied in Astapor, her dragons continuing to grow in size and ferocity, she felt that she could take on the world. When it had been relatively easy to free the slaves of Yunkai and to bring down the Wise Masters, her confidence had only grown. Meereen had been a harsh reality check, and she was no longer certain of anything except her dragon. She could feel him getting closer to the city, and his own strength and confidence helped to steady her. The black dragon was getting closer, of that she was sure, though he was going at a leisurely pace rather than any sort of rush.
She had begun to feel his approach the night before, after the meeting with Aegon and his advisors. Now that she knew Drogon was coming, she would prolong giving them an answer and continuing any sort of negotiations until her oldest child returned to her. With one of her dragons behind her and seemingly more willing to work with her now, it would secure her position quite a bit. She sighed as Missandei came to her from her room, her loyal handmaiden giving her an apologetic smile as she slightly bowed her head, "I'm sorry your grace, but you have quite the lineup seeking an audience with you. Should I inform them that you will not be receiving requests today?"
Daenerys shook her head though and handed over her wine glass, knowing it wouldn't be great for her to be seen drinking wine so early in front of the court. Though she also knew it simply wouldn't be good to get into a habit of drinking so early in the day before she performed her duties as queen, "No, I'll be ready to see them in just a few minutes. Thank you, Missandei." Her old friend simply nodded at her before leaving with the wine glass. Dany looked out over the bay before she then looked at the sky. After a few more minutes she turned and made her way to the audience chamber, ready to perform her queenly duties once more.
Down in the city, making their way to the audience chamber was a small group of noblemen. They got in line behind other waiting to see the current queen, and simply waited in silence. Under their robes, masks of gold were hidden, and in their sleeves were blades waiting to strike. This small group of four was not the only of their kind. Another group just ahead of them lay in wait with the same. More like them waited further along the line, waiting to strike with the ferocity of a serpent.
Today would be the time that they struck. No Targaryen thief would rule their cities, not any longer. She would rue the day she decided to ever set foot in Slaver's Bay.
Castle Black- Free Folk Camp
It was difficult to let him go. She hated the fact that she had to in the first place, though she knew that there was little that she could truly do about it. If Jon was insistent and so dead set on the fact that he had to set her aside, then so be it. It still seemed quite stupid and foolish to her that he would set her aside in the first place, though she also supposed that she knew nothing of the games that the southerners liked to play with one another to ensure they remained in power. Perhaps she should be glad she would never have to be addressed as 'Yer Grace' and have pompous fools falling over themselves to please her and their king.
Yet even as she tried to convince herself that it was indeed for the best, for both her and Jon, it didn't change the fact that Ygritte still felt pain at the loss. She had been left behind with the rest of the injured to recover while others marched on to battle, being left behind to protect and lead while Mance and most of the other chieftains were away. It irked her to have been left behind when there was a battle to be fought, though there was nothing she could do to improve the speed she was healing at. And if she were being honest, she wasn't sure she should take to the field of battle...
She hadn't been sure at first, and she hadn't bothered telling Jon when he made it clear what he felt his duty now demanded of him. It would cause more trouble to tell him her suspicions, so she forced him to leave her be and to keep silent. She spoke to a couple of the elders to make sure that her suspicions were nought but slight paranoia and perhaps some small amount of wishful thinking, yet they encouraged her otherwise. She had thought that perhaps her lack of energy was due to healing from her wounds, that the tenderness of her breasts and how they had swollen was just due to her tits having been rubbed the wrong way at some point. She had made up excuses before she caved to go and see the elders.
The wildling woman brought a hand down to her belly with a small frown on her face, worried at the prospect of handling parenthood alone. She knew Jon would help her, all she would need to do is ask him and inform him that the child growing inside of her was indeed his. As a man who cared so much for his family and honor and duty, she knew he would feel obligated to help her and go to any lengths to ensure her and the child were kept in comfort and that none would be able to touch her. It wasn't an entirely bad prospect, if it wasn't for one simple thing.
She simply didn't want to ask him for his help, even if it was his seed that had take root.
Perhaps it was foolish. Yet her pride would not allow her to go running to her former lover for help, not when he had made it clear he would need to build up a different family without her. Not when he had chosen the watch over her and left her at the scrutiny of her fellow free folk for having trusted in him. She knew that she could take care of the child well enough without his help, that she had the skills needed to survive as a spearwife and that she could pass those skills on to her child, assuming that they lived long enough to reach that point in the first place.
She knew that it was wrong to hide the fact that he would have a child from him in the first place. It would be considered a bastard by the standards of anyone south of the Wall, yet that didn't change the fact that telling Jon about her child had the potential to put them all in danger. 'Perhaps,' She thought to herself, 'He'll be able to keep his yap shut about me and I can make sure he doesn't give me the help he feels I would need. If I ended up needing anyone's help, I could always get another spearwife to help me.'
Oh how Jon Snow had managed to complicate her life. She refused to refer to him as Aenar Targaryen, whether that was his birth name of not. He had been with her as Jon Snow, he had made love with her as Jon Snow, and he had betrayed and fought against her people as Jon Snow. As far as she was concerned, there was no one else he could be, even if he had some fancy royal blood that apparently ran through his veins. Even if he told her that his name was now Aenar, she could see in his eyes that he was still the same Snow who had fought so hard to keep her people from overrunning the Wall.
She sighed as another spearwife came up to her, tapping her shoulder with a kind smile on her face, "Go get some rest. I'll take watch here for now." Ygritte nodded at the other free folk woman and stood, putting her bow on her back as she walked back to her tent. She would remain as a spearwife until such a time as her pregnancy went too far along for her to reasonably move about and use a bow or dagger, when that moment came she would have to find another way to be useful to her people. Perhaps she would be assigned to keeping an eye on some of the children, she could see it as being the elders way of preparing her for what was to come.
As she put her bow aside in her tent, she laid down and made herself comfortable on her bedroll, keeping her dagger near her hand in the event that someone made the mistake of trying to sneak up on her while she rested. She sighed as she laid down on her back and kept her free arm across her stomach, hoping the future would be kind to her and her babe...
Bear Island
It had taken quite some time for any sort of news to reach the isolated island, though it finally had at long last. With the death of her mother and eldest sister at the Red Wedding, it was left to a young Lyanna to take over Bear Island, a responsibility she did not want yet had taken to as a fish does to water. She had been but a girl of four and ten in two hundred and ninety ninth year when the news had come about the treachery of House Bolton and Frey, leading to the slaughter of many loyal northmen as well as her family. Rather than being the Lady in place of her mother and sister, she was now the Lady of Bear Island.
Now as a lady of ten and six and quite the fair maiden at that, she had grown at least somewhat comfortable in her permanent role, thought she couldn't help but itch for action. She wished to thrust her blade through Roose Bolton's throat herself, yet she knew that she didn't have the manpower. The most she could bring to the battle field was ninety hardened northmen and women, perhaps a bit more if she gave her people the time to prepare, yet it would leave her little island extremely vulnerable. Even if her people were harder and capable of outdoing the enemy, they would still end up defeated in the long run.
She knew that she wasn't the only one that wished to rebel against the rule of the traitors, there was no way there wasn't, yet it was difficult to coordinate with others who did feel the same as her. She knew House Karstark couldn't be trusted, not with how King Robb had executed the last Lord of the house during the war, yet other than that it was made difficult to coordinate due to the nature of her location. Ravens could be intercepted, and if she were to leave her island not only would it be vulnerable without some form of additional support, but there would be questions as to why she would bother leaving her home.
'Maybe,' She had thought with some distaste, 'It is time I take a man into my bed as my husband. Having the assistance of another loyal house through marriage would make it that much easier to coordinate with other potential rebels and ensure I can bring more soldiers to the field when the time comes to deal with the traitors.' As fate would have it, it seemed her solution to dealing with House Bolton came in the form of a raven scroll, and it was made that much sweeter due to it not coming with the requirement of marriage. The only difficulty was the name that signed the message.
Lady Mormont,
I have every hope that this raven reaches you in good health, and you receive its news with good will.
I have sent this message from the Wall to rally the banners of those loyal to House Stark in hopes of removing Roose Bolton's head from his shoulders for the atrocities committed during the last war. For his treason against the North and all of those who were killed or taken prisoner at the Twins due to his actions, it is high time he pays for those that lost their lives and their freedom. He will not escape the justice that is due to him. It is time to pass judgement.
I rally the banners as a man raised by Eddard Stark. I was known as Jon Snow when I slept under his roof in Winterfell, at the time I was told I was nothing more than a bastard and thought that my only hope for honor was to seek it at the Wall with the Night's Watch. It is only recently that I discovered my uncle lied, deceiving the rest of the realm in an attempt to try and keep me safe from the likes of his own friend.
My name by law is not Jon Snow, and it never was. I am Aenar Targaryen, final son of Rhaegar Targaryen and his second wife, Lyanna Stark. Your namesake. I know that you owe me nothing, my lady. During the war in which my cousin lost his life to traitors, I was sitting at the wall dealing with the free folk, as well as other, more grave threats beyond the Wall. I could have left to help my brother, and yet I didn't. It is to be a regret I carry with me for the rest of my life, however long it may be.
I march on Last Hearth with a host consisting of free folk, giants, and a southern army of six thousand cavalry and infantry brought by Lord Stannis Baratheon, my new master of law and the lord of Storm's End. We hope to gain the help of House Umber before we march on Winterfell and take the castle, to finally remove the filth of the Boltons from our kingdom once and for all.
I wright to you knowing the loyalty House Mormont has always shown House Stark since the days of the Kings of Winter, and in the hopes you would assist me in my attempt to retake Winterfell and save my younger sister, Sansa Stark, from the grip of House Bolton. I send this in hopes that you would help me save her. I know we knew each other but only briefly and many years ago at that, but I would hope to call upon you as a friend in these trying times.
After we have removed the Boltons from power and ensured the rule of a Stark in Winterfell once again, I will call upon all the lords and ladies of the North to discuss our next course of action, and what the future holds for the rest of the North.
With Hope, Aenar Targaryen, first of his name and rightful king of the seven kingdoms.
The letter was an answer to all of Lyanna's prayers. She had her doubts that it was a forgery with the mention of their shared history, having been brought to Winterfell on occasion while her elder sister was left to rule Bear Island. She had met Jon at Winterfell and often enjoyed his company, though she could never say that the two of them had been especially close when they were younger. She remembered him being a kind boy, if a bit sullen and overly serious at times, and it seemed he was a good man now. Her only issue was the fact that he claimed to be a Targaryen with the assistance of Stannis.
The North had refused to bow to the stag when the war of the five kings broke out, instead raising Robb Stark as their king and bringing another rival to his rule rather than supporting Stannis' rightful claim over his younger brother or Cersei's own bastard son. Considering how everything turned out, perhaps it might have been for the best if they had declared for Stannis in the war rather than choosing to become independent, the Riverlands having already been ravaged by House Lannister and in a poor state to try and muster its forces. She shook off such thoughts knowing that it was not the time to ponder the past, not when Jon was currently marching on House Bolton.
Lyanna rose from the chair and strapped the long sword sitting by her to her hip, the young woman standing at a height of roughly five feet. She walked around the desk in her solar and opened the door, two of her loyal men-at-arms standing right outside the door. The man to her right turned to her and bowed his head, "What do you need Lady Mormont?" The other guard stayed silent and stared ahead, listening to the two talk.
"I need you to retrieve Maester Erwin as well as Rodrik, I need to discuss a few things with them. Be quick!" The loyal guard nodded his head and lightly ran down the hall, going to retrieve the maester from his study and her master of arms from the courtyard. Lyanna closed the door after, though rather than sitting back in her seat, she went and paced back and forth in front of her desk, a hand resting on the hilt of her sword at all times as she thought about the opportunity brought before them.
It wasn't long before she was joined by the aging maester and her master of arms, the two knocking on the door. "Enter!" When the two entered the room, they were just a bit confused as to why they found their sworn lady pacing back and forth, thinking about something. They weren't given much time to ponder before she turned back to her desk and brought a paper from the top, handing it over to the two with her free hand, "Shut the door and read this." Rodrik was the one to take the letter, raising an eyebrow at the young lady before glancing down to read it with the maester.
She could tell when the two had reached the end of the correspondence from Jon simply based off of the expressions on their faces, the older men being pale and wide eyed. The maester licked his lips and her master of arms frowned as he looked back up at her, the warrior handing the message over to the maester to keep while he crossed his arms, "Why summon us for something so trivial? Is it not obvious that this is a ruse of some sort? Some attempt by Roose or his viscous spawn to root out those who would go against his house, given the chance?"
It was a possibility that she had considered, and yet dismissed. "The story is not only far too wild to have been brought on by the imagination of Roose, it would also be too much of a gamble. Luring out Stark loyalists by trying to claim the message is from a brand new Targaryen king who just so happened to have been raised in the North by a Stark? Roose would be just as likely to get nothing at all in response. Besides, I did meet Jon a few times when I was brought to Winterfell. The Boltons would be unlikely to know and wouldn't have any reason to know about that or remember." She gave the two a small smirk, knowing exactly what this meant for Roose.
She was fairly certain that it was a raven from the same boy she knew, though her only doubt laid with the fact that the last she had heard, Jon had gone to swear his vows to the Nights Watch. As far as she knew Robb had never pardoned him before his death, and she was certain that none of the lions in stags clothing would have ever had reason to even bother releasing him from his vows to the watch. The only reason she could think of would be if they decided they would elevate him as a Stark and as the next Warden of the North, yet at the moment the Boltons remained loyal to the crown.
"If he is truly marching on Roose with an army of wildlings, then a proper host of trained men could smash them." She noticed with a raised eyebrow that he ignored the comment about the giants, "If the horde is as large as the reports stated from the Nights Watch, its likely the Boltons are going to take heavy losses. Though Stannis is with them and has his own men, if Roose can call upon enough houses they could potentially repel the Targaryen host. Perhaps rather than assisting this Aenar, we allow him and Roose to destroy each other? End the reign of the dragon before it begins and to finally destroy those that betrayed King Robb?"
"Not the worst of plans, admittedly, if I planned to hide away behind my castles walls like a southern craven." Both the master of arms and the maester of the Claw blinked at her in confusion, the old maester finally taking a seat as they both paid attention to their lady she-bear, "Yet I do not intend to sit back and hide while the battle to decide the fate of our kingdom plays out. I intend to be there when Aenar removes Rooses head and sets it on a pike outside of Winterfell. I intend to personally take my sword to the field and to help rid the North of the red kings, once and for all."
"My lady, I do not believe that to be the wis-"
"Make no mistake maester, I did not ask the both of you here to seek out your insight and advice on what exactly I should do. I don't and will never need the two of you to figure out what seems blatantly obvious to me." The maester clammed up and looked away with a slight reddening of the cheeks, the master at arms having been the smarter man in this instance and choosing to stay silent, "I called you here to inform you of the situation so we could prepare, nothing more, nothing less. Rodrik, get together any man and woman we can spare and prepare them to march to Winterfell. Erwin, send a raven to Last Hearth post haste so that it may reach Lord Umber and his grace in time. Inform them that House Mormont stands with them, and will help end the Bolton threat."
Both men bowed and left her solar in a hurry, the young woman leaving not long after them. She intended to make sure her skills were more than up to par by the time she reached the battlefield. She intended for her blade to drown in Bolton blood.
Oh, if only her uncle hadn't taken Longclaw to the Wall with him.
So essentially a Rhaegal POV for most of the chapter, with a touch of insight as to what is going on in Meereen and a look at Bear Island!
Now, if there is two things that have made me want to fucking die more than anything with this story, it is three things. Dragon sizes, the timelines of both the books and the show, and the birthdates for the latest generation of House Mormont.
Like holy shit. Except for Maege and Lyanna Mormont, every other Mormont's wiki has a massive gap of several years which they could have been born in and it is such a pain in the dick hole to figure out what would be the best way to age up Lyanna. So eventually, after much internal debate, I went the way of the show and did away with most of House Mormont's existence. If I'm going to be frank, it would not end up well if I added in that many active characters just for a minor house. Its a pain to write all my current narratives as is xD
Now, I say dealing with the timeline of the show and books is a pain if only because it is difficult to figure out what time it is, based off the actions I've taken. After much debate, the year SHOULD be 302 AC, rather than 303. Jon letting the free folk through directly, Dany losing her dragons, and Alliser never opposing Jon, accelerate the narrative by a year if I'm not a total dumbass, though if someone would like to I may need a hand figuring out just what I've done to the timeline. If I'm honest, I never wrote with the most specific plan or outline, and its really coming back to bite me now.
As for dragons... they're just inconsistent. Dany's dragons grow fast as hell in the show, and seem to grow at quite the pace in the books, whereas by the time of the conquest Aegons dragons had only been the size they were due to being a few decades old, if I remember right. Also, I gotta say this, I am NEVER writing from a gender neutral perspective for a dragon again after this story. I know it can be a little confusing, but imagine how much of a pain in the ass it is for me to write it xD So for the upcoming fic, expect and Vhagar perspectives to be written as a she-dragon.
I hope you all enjoyed and are ready for the upcoming battle(s) which should come about in the next few chapters!