Hey everyone Shadowwolf1997 back with an update on Empire of Winter. Thank you all for the Patience you've shown while waiting, Freshman year in military college is kicking my butt, but here is a very, very, very late Christmas Present for all my good readers. Sorry but Finals and being home for three glorious weeks after three months of military college kinda sapped my will to write, that and a combination of laziness and writer's block, but I'm back with new chapters for the new year. Maybe even some new stories. Disclaimer: I do not own A song of ice and fire that honor goes to George R. R. Martin and he alone.

The Wolf Bares Its Fangs

The Wolves Begin Their March

As the Dawn filtered in through the window of the royal chambers of Winterfell, Queen Visenya Stark, Queen of the Winterlands and the Isles, wife of King Torrhen II Stark, and mother of the two eight year old princes Maesric and Braegon, and the now two year old princess Lyanna, woke and groggily lifted her body into a sitting position. A cold wind blew into the window causing her to shiver and bring the blanket around her bare body as her clothes were scattered along the floor. Turning she caught sight of her husband, her Torrhen, still fast asleep, the cold air not in the least bit bothering him. This caused Visenya to smile as she thought, 'All these years in the North and I am still not use to the cold.'

Deciding to lay back down, Visenya burrowed into her husband's side as he was the warmest thing in their bed. She felt his arm, thick with muscle from years of hard training, wrap around her own lithe, muscular body as he pulled her towards him.

"Sometimes I can't tell if you like being close to me because you love me or if it's because I keep you warm on these "chilly" mornings," a groggy yet amused voice spoke.

Smiling as she snuggled closer to her husband Visenya spoke, "Why can't it be both my love, after all you know us dragons love basking in warmth. You yourself said the blood of the men of the North runs hot to fight off the cold."

"I did say that didn't I." The King of the Winterlands mumbled as he pulled his Valyrian wife closer to him, her head now resting right under his chin.

As the two lay together, just enjoying the other's presence and the peace of the morning, both had almost fallen back asleep when a hard series of knocks hit the door to their chambers

"Your Majesties, a raven from Dragonstone has arrived, young Magnar Aegon has sent you a message." The voice of the old High Druid Magorn came from the other side of the ironwood door.

Letting go of Visenya and rising up from their bed, Torrhen grabbed his trousers from the floor and put them on before speaking.

"Come in High Druid, I will see what letter my good brother has sent us."

The Ironwood door opened as Torrhen finished putting on his jerkin, revealing the old High Druid, dressed in his gray robes, the weirwood staff with a decent sized globe of amber at the top denoting his status.

Visenya watched from the bed, using the furs and sheets to keep her naked body warm. For any other man she would have been angry at this, but the High Druid had delivered all her children and regularly attended to the health of the royal family, so old Magorn was spared this and simply bowed his head to the Queen of the Winterlands and the Isles.

"Here is the letter your Majesty." The old man said, handing the letter sealed with the three head red dragon of House Targaryen to Torrhen.

Breaking the seal, Torrhen opened the letter and read the contents, a serious expression coming to his face as he continued reading.

Dear Good Brother,

I hope this letter finds you, Visenya, and the Children well. It has been ages since I've seen my nephews and I have yet to see my adorable little niece. But I have not sent this message to merely talked about my niece and nephews. The time has come for the Targaryens to bring order to the lands of central Westeros. I hereby call upon you, King Torrhen, Second of His Name, Guardian of the Winterlands and the Isles, Protector of the Gods of the Forest, Magnar of Winterfell, and King of the First Men, the Giants, and the Children of the Forest, to fulfill the oaths made under the Pact of the Wolf, the Sun, and the Dragon, to lend your aid in my conquest of five of the Southron Kingdoms. Please respond as soon as you can.

Signed King Aegon, First of His Name, Lord of Central Westeros, Protector of the Realm, and King of the Andals and the Southern First Men.

While he was reading Visenya, using the furs as a cloak, had gotten up and walked up behind her husband, wrapping her arms around his neck, pressing her bare body against his back and resting her chin on his shoulder, looking over at the letter and reading it with her husband.

Looking to the love of her life as she finished reading the letter she merely waited for him to speak.

Instead of speaking, he reached up and clasped her hand with his and turned to the High Druid.

"High Druid Magorn, send out the Eagles to each of House Starks Major Vassals. Begin mobilization, in five months time I want the full force of the North either gathered at Moat Cailin. Tell Magnars Sunderland, Froststark, and Spearborn to Reinforce the Dragonstone Fleet. And have Magnar Greyjoy burn the coast of the Sunset Sea from Seaguard to Oldtown while Magnar Frostfangs joins him. Tell Vickon that if he does a particularly good job that Aegon might be willing to give the Winterlands the Arbor, and I the Arbor to him as a reward for a job well done."

Nodding before turning to leave to carry out his orders, the High Druid left the King and Queen's chambers.

Torrhen sighed before turning around to embrace his wife, kissing her lovingly before speaking, "And so it begins my love, the war that will change the very definition of Westeros."

Shaking her head in agreement with her husband, Visenya spoke, "Aye that's true, but with the Valyrian Dragonriders, our armies and fleets, and the Dornish cavalry this war is already all but won, but that is not important. I know you Torrhen, you are a brave man and you love protecting your people, but you do realize that not all will return from this."

Grunting in agreement with his wife Torrhen spoke, "You speak the truth, but many more have died from the countless wars waged against my ancestors by the rulers of the South. With your brother and your kin ruling those lands our people will finally now true peace, our children and their children will not have to send men to their deaths because of the pettiness of the Andal Kings of the South."

Visenya said nothing after her husband spoke, only staring at him with an unreadable look, then reaching up and placing her hands on his face brought him down and kissed him. Letting the furs fall off, leaving her exposed to the world

Torrhen responded by wrapping his arms around her waist. Letting Visenya guide him back to their bed, along the way she relieved him of his jerkin. As they fell onto the bed Torrhen allowed the warmth of his wife to carry him off from his stress and worries, knowing that moments like this were about to become incredibly rare.

Belatedly realizing that that had been Visenya's intention all along, Torrhen removed his last scraps of clothing before spending what time he could with his beautiful Valyrian, before the responsibilities of the Kingship once more weighed heavily upon his shoulders.

Later that day, eagles flew from Winterfell's rookery to all the vassals of House Stark. One of them arrived to the Dreadfort, home of the Boltons, their red wolf on a background of white flying proudly. But these were not the Boltons of old, the same men who flew the flayed man and skinned their enemies. The current Boltons were the descendents of a young Bolton and a Winterfell serving maid who had died in childbirth. The child was unwanted by his father, but, in an act of mercy, was raised by the then King of Winter. This young man was known as Domeric Snow, who grew with, and became the friend of the Prince of Winter Eddard Stark, who would eventually become King Eddard II, The "Bolton slayer" for destroying House Bolton in their final Rebellion.

Domeric had played a large role, capturing and dragging his father, now the Magnar of the Dreadfort and true born brothers to his friend and King. After the Rebellion, Domeric was made Domeric Bolton and given the Dreadfort as a reward for his loyalty and a the beautiful Lyarra Flint of the Mountain Clan Flints as a wife. He replaced the old Bolton sigil with a new one, a red wolf, signifying his gratitude and loyalty to the Starks. House Bolton also adopted new words, Loyalty Born of Gratitude and eternal reminder of what they owe to House Stark.

The current Magnar of the Dreadfort was Jon Bolton, a long time friend of Torrhen and Visenya. He was also the current Marshall of the North, the man in charge of gathering and readying an army on the King's command. Upon receiving the message from his King, the Magnar of the Dreadfort wasted no time in sending out eagles to other Houses and marshalling his own forces, for there was much work to be done in the name of the King of the Winterlands and the Isles, and he would see it done perfectly.

All across the North and the Isles, Men, Giants, and Children were gathering for war. Forges were turning out weapons to be used by the soldiers. Armor, arrows, and shields were crafted and stockpiled. Many of the Mountain Clans and tribes of the Free Folk, sent their greatest warriors and spearwives to the citadel of Moat Cailin as the forces of the Northern Magnars began their march.

Wargs and their beastial companions traveled with them, as did men and giants astride great Northern Mammoths. The Harbingers appeared from their scattered groves and forts to join the march. Gryphon riders took the skies on the mighty mounts from their perches and mountain fortresses, they too answering the call of the King of Winter.

In the Iron Islands, the Ironborn were all to willing to answer the call of their King. Though much had changed for them in the millennia under Stark rule and the Islands prospered to once unimagined levels, the iron in their souls still sang and resonated when the call raid and pillage went out. The Iron Fleet emerged from its secret grottos and cliffside cave docks, joined by the formidable fleets of Bear Island and Wavecrest joining their Ironborn brothers-in-arms as they prepared to assail the Western coasts.

In the East, the great fleets of Houses Sunderland, Manderly, Froststark, and Spearborn gathered in the bite before sailing down south, their destination Dragonstone. At their head was Admiral Dacey Froststark, Grand Admiral of the Eastern Fleet and the Magnara of Hardhome, and with her Visenya Stark and her dragon Vhagar flying above the fleet.

In Dorne, the Yellow Toad, Princess Meria Martell, the Princess of Dorne, Lady of Sunspear, and Ruler of the Rhoynar and Dorinish Andals and First Men, was also gathering her forces. As her armies moved towards Yronwood were they would gather under her son Prince Nymor while her fleets were also moving to Dragonstone under Lord Dayne.

The Dragon Takes Flight

Month later, Aegon sat on Balerion's back as the largest fleet in the history of Westeros gathered beneath him in Dragonstone's harbor his own fleet strengthened by his good-brother's Northmen and the Dornish. By his side was Rhaenys on Meraxes and Daena on her green and red dragon Ysera. Also slightly behind them was Visenya Stark nee Targaryen, having arrived with the Northern fleet to support he brother. Visenya and Lord Dayne had both given him the plans set down by Torrhen and Prince Nymor. The Dornish would assail the Reach from the sea with the Ironborn and Northmen while attacking the Marcher Stormlords. The Northmen would strike the Durrandons of the Riverlands and keep the Stormlords of the Riverlands busy while Aegon made his landing.

Aegon smiled as he thought of the rest of the plan. From there, his forces would establish a beachhead and then Orys and Baelor Mexaryes would head off to confront Argilac near Storm's End while Aegon, Rhaenys, and Daena would fly to meet Torrhen at Durran's Hall while Visenya dealt with the Vale. The rest of the Dragonlords would stay behind to make sure their beachhead at the mouth of Blackwater Rush wasn't threatened.

The Plan was perfect, but now came the hard part, carrying out the conquest of the five Southron kings, well four technically since the Durrandon's had conquered the Riverlands centuries ago.

With everything in order, Aegon signaled Belarion, and with a mighty roar, the Black behemoth took to the skies, the smaller Meraxes and Ysera right behind him. In turn, each of the other dragon riders took to the skies, flying behind their king and queens. Beneath them the massive Valyrian, Northern, and Dornish fleet took sail, its first destination the Blackwater Rush to deliver the army, and then, under the leadership of Queen Visenya, the city of Gulltown in the Vale to destroy the Vale Fleet and capture Gulltown.

And to the North, the King of Winter and Iron, Torrhen II Stark, gathered his host of warriors, wargs, gryphon riders, giants, mammoths, and Children into a mighty host in the citadel of the Neck, Moat Cailin. A great force numbering 50,000, ready to follow their King down South. By his side was his brother, Brandon Snowstark and his Marshall, Jon Bolton, and all his loyal Magnars and Magnaras. And of course the always faithful Forest, his ever loyal direwolf who had been with him since she was a puppy. Raising the Winteriron blade Ice over his head, his iron and bronze crown upon his head and adorned in his battle armor, he threw his arm forward, bringing Ice down to point towards the South.

"Rise up sons and daughters of the North, blood and glory await us." Torrhen yelled. The response was Forest lifting her head in a mighty howl that rang across the citadel and the marshes. The army of the Winterlands then released a mighty bellow that could be heard for miles as the gates of Moat Cailin opened, and the March south began.

So while fourteen dragons flew in the sky and hundreds of ships sailed across the water, the Sun rose on the horizon, the dawn of a new age.

And so the Dragons flew, while to the North, the wolves bared their fangs, thirsty for blood, the blood of the Stag. And thus in the year 2 BC, Aegon's conquest had begun.

Well all I can say about my long absence is sorry guys and thank you for your patience. I promise a longer and exciting chapter soon. Also trying to create a new story as well, a Fairy Tail and World of Warcraft crossover inspired by Count Chaos and his crossover. On another note for anyone interested in challenges, check out joe63129 and his page for some decent challenges. Thank you all for taking the time to read my work.

P.S for any World of Warcraft fans, try to find the WOW references in this chapter good luck.