So, after some absence (again) I'm returning with a rewritten version of this prologue… have fun.
Prolog: The Empire and The North
Moat Cailin, the Neck, formerly independent Kingdom of Winter.
The study in which Thorsten sat wasn't exactly glamourous. But it was difficult to find one that was in the North, and Moat Cailin is more of a fort or border fortification than a normal castle. So it didn't matter. Even if the almost bare walls, covered in maps, didn't for the room's other occupant. Torrhen of House Stark, the last King of Winter.
"Why am I here Torrhen?" Thorsten asked the former King. "Are you sure that your new King will appreciate our meeting?" The Ambassador raised one eyebrow, and watched as Torrhen sighed. Before now Torrhen always wore the Crown of Winter, ugly thing that it was, but it was strange to see the king without it.
"I want to ask for the Empire's help," the man said in the old tongue, his accent was terrible and it was obvious that he wasn't a native speaker. "For when my kin will rise up to retake the Crown. Right now we can't, not when the southerners are united. Even if they didn't have dragons it would be impossible."
"I will speak to the Emperor. I'm not sure what he will say, he wasn't as enthusiastic about the relationship between the North and the Empire as his father I'm afraid," Thorsten said. "But I'm more concerned with your new King. What he will do when he learns of this meeting."
"He will never learn of it," Torrhen said quietly, "nobody will. I will tell my son on his eighteenth nameday. Not sooner."
"I should get going then," Thorsten stated as he left his seat, "to catch the favorable winds."
He left a relieved Stark patriarch behind as he walked to the stables and got onto his horse. He made sure to leave the Castle through the northern gate, to avoid the Targaryen Army that was camped to the south. He rode through the camp of Northern Army, protected by the darkness of the night. It was a few days of riding until he would reach the ship, and a few more weeks at sea after that.
He didn't want to waste any time.
A few weeks later, coast of the Empire of the Mountains.
The ship that had awaited Thorsten weeks ago at the western coast of the North wasn't big. A small, fast galley. A single mast with a white square sail, no fore- or aftcastle. She was no warship.
When Thorsten disembarked from the ship in Eskeland, the largest Port in the Empire and the one closest to the Capital, he was met by two soldiers. Clad in a combination of steel plates, engraved with runes asking the gods for protection, covering their most essential parts — chest, head and groin — and chainmail covering everything else, they shined in the sun. Their weapons were long spears of Rorill wood with steel tips and swords hanging at their sides. On their backs were large, round shields of the same wood as their spears.
"Ambassador," said one of the soldiers, his large mustache nearly bursting out of the helmet. "You were not expected so soon. The Lord of Eskeland wants to invite you to dine with him this evening, before you make your journey to Higdarim."
"I will gladly accept the invitation of Lord Saunrett," said Thorsten, and followed the soldiers. They led him to three prepared horses, and they rode through the port city. Everywhere people traded and crafted. Going about their everyday lives. They rode along the street leading to the city's citadel, a great fortress of gray stone integrated into the city's outer walls.
Thorsten entered the citadel through the main gatehouse, a large wooden gate followed by a large free space with arrow slits at the sides to create a choke point. At the end of the gatehouse was a portcullis, made of solid steel.
They left the gatehouse, and entered the first courtyard. In it were a few houses with the servants of the citadel and the citadel garden. Surrounded was the courtyard by the citadel's walls, with battlements on both the sides facing outwards and inwards. Followed was this by another gatehouse of the same design as the first, leading into the main courtyard. Here was the entrance to the barracks, the Keep and the training area. Again the walls around it were build so that the defenders would be protected against attacks from the courtyard itself. And further west would be the next two gatehouses, with the courtyard between them containing the stables. Beyond that was the road leading to the capital, although Thorsten would take a boat rather than a horse for the journey.
As it was already late afternoon Thorsten didn't have to wait long before the Lord would dine with him.
The Lord of Eskeland and head of house Saunrett was an old man, already in his early fifties. His once brown hair had become grey over the years, but his blue eyes were still filled with the kindness Thorsten remembered from him. Thorsten was from a prominent military family, and like his father, brothers and many of his ancestors served in the military for some time. He had first met Lord Saunrett when he was still a child, only 13 years old. The then heir to house Saunrett was friend of Thorsten's grandfather, his grandfather had even served in the personal guard of the Father of Lord Saunrett.
"Thorsten," greeted the kind old man his favourite honorary grandson. They hugged shortly, before the man motioned Thorsten to sit down. "Dinner will be served shortly, first how was your mission to our friends?"
"It worked well I suppose," he said, "do you remember our conversation about the Valyrian dragonlord that conquered the stormlands?" The old Lord nodded. "Well, Torrhen had bent the knee to this dragon king. He did it for the good of his people, of course, but he came to me two days later asking for the Empire's assistance should the Kingdom of Winter ever revolt against the south and try win back its independence."
The Lord Saunrett nodded again, and said "I understand Torrhen. War against the southerners, even without them using dragons, would've been foolish. And they would've found a way around their — Moat Calvin was it?"
"Moat Cailin," Thorsten corrected.
"Yes, Moat Cailin. They would've found a way around it soon enough. Especially by sea."
They spoke of family, with Thorsten being informed that his father wished him to be married soon, until the dinner was being served. The servants brought in the meal, consisting of fish, in this case smoked sprats, and potatoes.
Later, after a talk about the current political situation such as the Emperor's decision to elevate the family of a man who saved his life to nobility, Thorsten was finally able to sleep normally, as sleep always seemed to try evading him on ships.
A few days later, Imperial Capital city.
The gates of the capital finally came into view as the small boat the Thorsten had been supplied with approached the city via the Tange River. They stopped at a pier outside the main walls, and Thorsten left the ship.
As Thorsten passed the gates, he saw Imperial Guards standing on towers and the imperial banner hanging from walls. It was a silver hammer, above a silver anvil surrounded by seven gold stars on a dark blue background.
He quickly walked through the city, he didn't have the gold for a horse, and approached the palace in the middle. It had once been a castle, but after centuries it was slowly converted into a palace and lose most of it's defenses. He entered through a gate in the wall surrounding the palace, and quickly entered the Emperor's court.
The court was big, almost as big as the main courtyard at the Citadel of Eskeland. The walls were covered in green stone as well as carvings in the stone depicting the history of the empire's people. At the end of the great court, a group of ten guards stood before a throne of steel and gold and silver. The Emperor sat upon it, or rather upon the red cushioning rumored to be the softest thing in the world.
The man spotted Thorsten, and declared the court closed for the day. He motioned him to follow, and Thorsten followed the Emperor to the Council Chamber.
"Your Grace," said Thorsten and kneed. "Rise, Ambassador." Said Emperor Harald the fifth, and Thorsten rose.
"What have you to report? I expected you in a few months to be honest." Said Harald, and looked expectantly at Thorsten.
"As I have reported the last time, your grace, the Targaryen Lord has conquered the Stormlands. Now, he has conquered the rest of Westeros, including the North. King Torrhen bent the knee willingly, and without a battle when he saw the three dragons Aegon Targaryen had brought with him. Two days after he bent the knee, he spoke to me telling me of his idea of an alliance for the case that the Kingdom of Winter wants its independence again. I told him I would speak to you, your Grace." Thorsten said, and the Emperor nodded.
"Well, we will support our friends in Westeros. And if it means to wait a few years, You have my permission to return to Westeros, and tell Torrhen that I accept his proposition, if we get something out of the deal as well." Said the Emperor. "Maybe a marriage between an Imperial Prince and a Princess of Winter, when the time comes?" Thorsten nodded, and left the Palace. He slept in his Family home that night, and left the next morning at dawn.
He travelled back to Torrhen Stark, told him of the Alliance and the condition which Torrhen gladly accepted.
Over the next century and a half, every Stark was told of the Alliance with the Empire. Until, one Stark Lord died before he could tell his heir of the Alliance, although the documents still were in the crypts of Winterfell, buried together with Torrhen Stark.
All the while, an Ambassador lived in the North, always near the west coast. Always ready to return to the Empire with news of a War for Independence and a new King of Winter. Every army was followed by an ambassador, just for the case that a Lord of Winterfell tried to free himself from the Dragons. And although the Imperial Army was ready during Robert's rebellion, the Lord of Winterfell never tried to gain independence instead kneeling before the new king. But, as Robb Stark's men declared him King in the North, the Ambassador left the northern army to inform the Emperor of this. And so, only a few weeks after the North declared its new King, an Imperial Army left Eskeland for Westeros. Led by Crown Prince Bjarne, the heir to the Imperial Throne. And so, an army 40,000 strong was on its way to support the King in the North.
And Westeros will never be the same again.
To be continued...
So, that's it.
People who knew the original version will note that the changes weren't that big.
Anyways, review and and all that. I'm always open to criticism, and of course advice in regards to grammar etc.
Sarkhan