Alright, time for the next chapter of Darkness Reborn, hope everyone is ready to enjoy themselves, time for some fun with war and battle. Things are going to be interesting, moving forward. It wont be long before the secret is out and most of the world is thrown into conflict. If anyone has any questions, feel free to let me know. And just so everyone is aware, not every event will occur in order, or at all, and some events may be pushed up, as seen in this chapter, know that this is on purpose, and I wont be holding to the storylines of either book or show from this point onward.
Also, someone asked me if Harry/Jon/Sauron/Aegon, will remain entirely submissive to Lilith, and the answer is no. why he chose to remain submissive to her for so long will be explained, but he wont stay that way moving forward. He wants to be by her side, to stand as her equal, as the two are twins. She'll be a bit frosty towards him for a while as she gets herself in order, get's her head on right. Her last memories as lilith were of him killing her, and before that, centuries of them fighting. But she hasn't forgotten that as Sauron, he served her faithfully and loyally, and even gave her, her old name back. So she'll warm up to him again, it'll just take a little bit, so please be patient.
Lilith as a character is someone who puts up strong walls to protect herself. She's been hurt a lot especially by Harry, so after all this time, she's cautious around him, despite knowing deep down that he's changed. So it will take time, as to why he's afraid of her, well he's afraid for the same reason Morgoth was afraid of Tulkas, despite the fact that Morgoth couldn't die. Getting the living hell beaten out of you, especially as an immortal is probably the only real thing you fear, outside of being imprisoned. So Harry being afraid of Lilith does make sense, as she is far stronger than he is, and he can actually die, he just wont stay dead, if he doesn't choose to. He can reform from death, easily, but that doesn't mean it's a pleasant experience to die, or that he wants to, especially after going through all of the work to make himself a new body. Him being afraid of her, has more to do with pain, than with fear of death.
If you've got any questions, or concerns leave me a review or send me a pm, I'll be sure to get back to you, and just as a heads up for you guys, fanfiction stopped sending emails letting me know when I get a pm, so if I pm you back, you may not know unless you actually check your account. So there's that, anyway, let's begin.
Darkness Reborn
Chapter 7: Descent from the North
"How long?" Jon inquired, his gaze set out over the vastness of the Land of Always Winter.
"They will be ready to march in two days time, my lord." An orc warchief responded, timidly.
"Good. Mance Rayder has one hundred thousand wildlings at his back. Nearly half of them are fighters, they will be made to kneel, or we will slaughter them to the last child." Jon stated, his eyes glowing as he turned his gaze towards the warchief. He earned a quick nod from the orc as it backed away and out of the chamber.
Jon stared after it for a moment before turning his gaze back out across the wintry landscape.
He stood within the central tower of Tantibus Arcis, inside of a special chamber that he had converted into his personal quarters. Below him, thousands of orcs, wights, and corrupted men, busied themselves tirelessly with preparations. Very soon, Jon would lead a large portion of the army here, south to conquer the rest of the far north, and take the Wall. His mission was to capture the massive Icy barrier and all nineteen castles along it's southern face. Those castles would then be reinforced, and new castles would be constructed on the northern side.
To the North of the Land of Always Winter, was a massive mountain range that extended for nearly five hundred miles before it gave way to more tundras. The area was completely uninhabited as far as Lilith had seen during her exploration to the north of their main base. With the mountains guarding from northern attack, if they took the Wall and broke the wildlings, than they would have the perfect defensive position from which to strike out at their enemies. Mountains to the north, treacherous oceans to the east and west, and the Wall to the south. Absolutely perfect.
The wildlings wouldn't be a major issue. They had giants, and they had numbers, those were their only benefits. They were highly untrained, highly unorganized, and they weren't true soldiers. They would face slaughter at his hands if they refused to submit.
A smirk touched upon Jon's lips as he turned and stepped over to his seat of power, that faced a wall of windows in his chamber, overlooking the fortress and the southern expanse.
He sat upon his throne and reflected on the events of recent weeks.
Since his return to her side, he'd been proceeding with caution around his sister. Lilith had all of her memories back, and thus remembered what he'd done to her so long ago. She was willing to grant him the benefit that he had remained her loyal servant for thousands of years since than, and seemingly wanted to give him a second chance, but with the return of her human memories, came with it the return of many of her human feelings. Including her heartbreak at his betrayal, and the pain of having to fight against someone she loved for centuries.
In a way, Jon was happy to endure her anger. For so long he got to enjoy having her back, without having to deal with the consequences of his own wrongdoings, but with that, came the caveat that he'd never truly earn her forgiveness for the things he'd done.
In was definitely unpleasant to have to endure her hate once more, but he knew she was weary of it. Which made it all the easier to deal with. He could see it in her eyes. She didn't want to be angry with him. They had both been young and foolish so long ago, and they had both allowed the Headmaster to turn them away from one another. Harry was lifted up as the golden child, the defeater of the dark lord Voldemort, the hero, the Boy-who-Lived. Lilith was the outsider, the sister, the dark and spooky freak, the one who didn't trust anyone other than Harry, and was easily jealous of anyone her brother spent time with.
In the end, it had been his sister who had managed to locate the Horcruxs that Voldemort had created, in order for Harry and the rest of the Golden Trio to destroy. She had also been the only one who stood by his side when he fought the dark lord for the last time. They had destroyed him together. That was how it should have been, going forward, the two of them facing the world together. Instead Harry had allowed the Light to crawl into his head and turn him against the Dark, not realizing at the time, that his own beloved twin, stood in those shadows as well.
She suffered, because of his actions, and each time he told her he was sorry, she forgave him. That should have been enough for him to understand that there had always been light in his darker half. But he was a fool then, and allowed himself to be manipulated. He worked against his own twin for the acceptance of those he thought truly cared for him.
He had wanted it all, his beloved twin, friends, family, a life of peace and happiness. In the end he lost it all because he couldn't see the twisted machinations of the 'Light' he served. And ultimately, it was that light that burned away the world and left it nothing more than a ruin.
There was no saying 'sorry' anymore. He didn't want to know what would happen if he tried to apologize to her. He could see the war that waged within his beloved twin. Even without her memories, Melkor knew to hate Eru. That was why she sought to destroy all that he built. That was one of the few things that had separated Melkor and Lilith. Lilith sought domination, control, and ultimately, freedom. Melkor sought to tear down everything that Eru had built.
During his time as her lieutenant, he had done what he could to mitigate Melkor's rage, bringing her more in line with Lilith's true desires, to conquer and bring order to the chaos of the world. When she had been tossed into the void, and he had risen as the new Dark Lord, he had stylized himself after Lilith, seeking to bring order to the world, and all things in it. To bring Eru's creations, under his control.
In his own way, he was continuing to fight for her dreams, even when she had forgotten them.
Now he wanted nothing more than to avenge their pain, and suffering. If he could, he would go back to those days as Harry Potter, and he would change things for the better. He wouldn't trust Dumbledore, he wouldn't turn on his sister, he wouldn't allow his need for attention and affection, to let him forget the one person who had always been there for him, and had always needed him the most.
Perhaps one day she would forgive him, or perhaps not. Regardless, that air of uncertainty was no longer present between them. Lilith had returned, and she would decide how she felt about him, one way or the other. Until she decided, he would just have to keep proving himself.
One day, he hoped that she would see how much he cared for her, and how he was willing to do anything to earn her forgiveness. Perhaps on that day, he would no longer be her lieutenant, or her servant, but they could again stand side by side, and rise up to unimaginable heights, together.
Until then…
He felt a presence tickle at the edges of his mind. He quickly apparated into the main hall, appearing on a knee, before his beloved sister.
"Your forces are almost prepared?" She inquired, staring down at him.
"In two days time, we will be ready to march. I will take them south, crush Mance Rayder, and seize the Wall for you." Jon proclaimed.
"Have you decided how you will address the appearance of your forces, or your service to me?" Lilith asked, leaning back on her throne, eyeing him curiously.
"When I leave this place, it will be as Aegon of House Targaryen. When asked about the orcs, I will tell them the truth. I have made an alliance with the Queen of Fire, Shadow, and Winter." He replied.
"Oh? And what were the terms of this alliance?" Lilith inquired, tempting him to say something he may regret.
Jon knew better than to fall for her trap. She wanted to hurt his feelings, she wanted him to say something about marriage, or the like, so that she could shoot him down, make him hurt, just as he had done to her once, so very long ago.
It was a petty revenge, but it was better than her actually trying to murder him. Death was of little concern, but she far surpassed him in terms of her raw power, even with the Deathly Hallows under his possession, it had still taken centuries to beat her the first time, and she was far stronger now, than she had been then. So while he wasn't worried about dying, if she grew furious enough with him, she may decide she wanted to take out her pain and suffering onto him, and that was a torturous existence that he wished on very few, save the old headmaster.
Jon knew petty revenge wouldn't make her happy, nor would torturing him. All throughout their war with each other, no matter how twisted she became, she never truly enjoyed hurting him. In fact, in always seemed to hurt her more, than it did him. Perhaps because she never stopped loving him, and it killed her inside to bring him pain. She could be spiteful, she could be hateful, she could be vindictive, but she wasn't without her regrets.
He didn't want that for her. He would take the bait, let her lash out, hurt him, and thus hurt herself. He'd apologize for her being upset, she'd get angry with him, and feel even worse because he was acting noble, despite knowing that she had hurt him. It was a tiring game, and Jon didn't want to play it. He wasn't that same person anymore. The Harry Potter, she had fought against so long ago, was dead. Before her now, was the man he was meant to be. Dark, sharp, willing to embrace his own malice, and cruelty, his anger, and sadism. He had always had a temper, and she had always encouraged him to use it, not hide from it.
He wouldn't mope around, or walk into her traps, just so she could get a few moments of pleasure from it, before she came to regret her words.
No. He'd show her that he was different.
"If any of them ask, I'll simply tell them I gave her a night unlike any she'd ever experienced before. Afterwards, she offered me anything I wanted. I wanted the world. She just so happened to want the same." Jon answered, his reply left her taken aback for a moment.
She stared at him, blinking several times, as a playful smirk crawled across her face.
"So… you're my whore, is that it?" She asked in response.
"Aegon the Whore, has a nice ring to it." Jon answered with a smirk, earning a snort of amusement from Lilith, in response.
"Aegon the Whore. I like it. If you die, I will have it engraved onto your tomb." Lilith responded with a chuckle.
"Were such a thing possible. Nevertheless, how would you like me to address that question?" Jon asked after a moment, internally quite proud of himself for making her laugh.
"Well, as a 'Queen of Fire, Shadows, and Winter', logic would dictate that I would have a king, or a consort, at the very least. You are mine, after all. If they require an answer, than tell them that. Our goals are aligned. We both desire this world, and in exchange for your name, I gave you an army to reclaim your throne. In fact, you can tell those dearest Starks of yours that as well. You agreed to marry me to save the North from the war I'll wage on them." Lilith answered, earning a bit of surprise from Jon, as that had been what he was hoping for, in terms of an explanation of how they came to join one another, but he hadn't expected her to agree to it, or even suggest it himself, which is why he suspected that she was baiting him.
It was a moment, before he knew he had made a mistake. The look on his face, gave away too much. She saw through him, saw his true intentions, his feelings. And with that opening, she struck. "It's a story that will work to our advantage. Even if it is a lie, everyone will always know the truth. One look and they'll see it. Master and loyal little servant."
Jon offered a nod at that, squashing any emotions in his eyes before she decided to continue. Rather to have her agitated at him not taking her bait, than to let her start saying more that would really start to hurt.
"Of course, my master." Jon stated firmly, bowing his head as he did.
Lilith stared down at him for a few scant moments, before noting that he wasn't going to say anything more until she did.
"Well, see to it your forces depart as soon as they are ready. My rise, is at hand. And the world shall tremble before the might of my army." Lilith commanded, earning a nod from Jon.
He bowed, rose and turned to depart. Lilith stared after him as he left. As soon as he passed out of the room, she let out a sigh.
"What do you want, baby brother? What is it you're really after?" Lilith thought to herself, her eyes closing as she allowed herself to drift into the land of dreams, a place she was becoming more and more familiar with, as the days went by.
Two days after, the army was ready. Over Four hundred thousand residents resided within Tantibus Arcis, Jon, under the name of Aegon, would lead a third of them south, to capture the wall and defeat the Wildlings and the Night's Watch.
He had at his command, eighty thousand orcs, ten thousand uruks, four thousand men, two thousand spiders, four thousand caragors and wargs, one thousand Olegs, eighty graugs, and forty mammoths.
The force would be led by Aegon, two of the Nine Nazgul, and the Great Dragon Midir. Aegon, along with the two Nazgul had as their mounts Fellbeasts. Aegon wasn't even going to attempt to ride Midir. The dragon had once been Lilith's mount, and it hated him, two very good reasons to not tempt fate in regards to the very powerful, and intelligent familiar, and besides that, he did not have the time to earn the beast's respect. That would have to come later.
Their conquest was rapid, as they swarmed south.
Crossing the Frostfang mountains they set upon the handful of Wildling tribes that had refused to join with Mance Rayder's army.
Many were offered the chance to join Aegon's army in exchange for their loyalty and oaths of service. Most spat on him, calling him a 'southron kneeler'. Aegon's response was swift and merciless. These peoples were offered no second chance. They were slaughtered, their children taken, and sent north to serve as slaves, and to add insult to injury, Aegon had the slain Wildlings raised as wights, and made them kneel to him, just to show those that did join him, what he could do if they disobeyed. The choice was simple. You would either serve in life, or you would serve in death. There was no escape.
These battles were few and far between as Aegon's army swarmed into the Haunted Forest. As they made their way south, Aegon began to rapidly construct forts and fortresses of wood and stone, anywhere, where valuable resources could be found, he would leave forces behind to construct bases. They would turn that greater North into a kingdom of fire and industry, that would fuel the war machine here, and when they returned to Arda.
As they moved south, some forces were left behind, while others joined up with the main host, these were usually scouting parties, or raiding groups that had been harassing and battling the Wildlings for years, and they had quite a bit of interesting information to tell.
Aegon was in no hurry as he marched south, Mance Rayder's force was filled with women and children, old and sick. They wouldn't move very quickly, and even if they tried, there would still be the Wall, they'd have to contend with. Instead Aegon focused on securing his territory, establishing supply lines back north, and making certain every second was spent furthering their goals.
As he moved south, he kept a close eye on the Wildling host, days passed, than weeks, soon several months had gone by as Aegon meticulously conquered or cut down every single tribe, clan, or gathering, he could find as he slowly pursued Mance Rayder's host.
Truly it must have been awful for them. Every single scout they sent back north to check to see if they were being followed got caught, interrogated, and then eaten. After the orcs were done munching on the scout's flesh, he would then be raised as a wight, and sent to harass the Wildling host.
Further and further south they moved, seizing every inch of land as they pushed the Wildlings further and further towards the Wall.
Aside from his conquests of the Far North, Aegon would spend his nights guiding the dreams of his packmates in the south. Every night, Sansa and Robb would reach out to him, as their minds filled with images of the hunt. It was quite suddenly, around the same time for both of them, that they began to dream of hunting lions. Something had happened, and both of them were angry at House Lannister.
Aegon would sometimes spend his time listening in on Sansa, through the mirror he had given her. Often, little of note would occur, just Sansa being Sansa, but over time, he began to notice that she was starting to pace. She was getting restless, especially at night, where she'd dream of hunting and killing, and it would often cause her to awaken, trembling, and fearful.
He caught news of an incident, Arya had attacked prince Joffrey, injuring him. Or something of the like. The end result had been the queen ordering the death of the direwolves. Interestingly enough, Nymeria and Lady had both vanished, before they could be killed.
Aegon suspected his agents within the King's caravan had rescued them, knowing the beasts would be useful servants.
That had been the first truly interesting thing he had heard during his eavesdropping, though it hadn't been the last. Recently, Sansa had been crying. In fact, her crying became more common than most other things in her life. Her crying coincided with her dreams of hunting and killing lions.
And soon she started to hunt Prince Joffrey in her dreams. Ripping him to shreds night after night.
Something had indeed happened, the Lannisters had moved against the Starks, and had earned the wrath of both wolves.
He would have to see about sending a messenger down south to see what was going on. If the Lannisters had started a feud with the Starks, that meant that getting them to agree to a war to dethrone the Stag King, would be that much easier.
During their march south, a man of the Night's Watch was brought to him, captured by one of their scouting parties.
Aegon was perched atop a hill, overlooking the vast forest, when a troop of orcs dragged the man before him and tossed him at his feet, nearby Ghost rose up and padded over to the fallen man, sniffing at him, curiously.
Aegon glanced down at the lone ranger, recognizing him instantly.
"Benjen Stark, I wondered if I would run into you." Aegon noted, his voice drawing the man's full attention as he pulled himself to his knees and lifted his gaze to stare at Aegon.
"Jon?" Benjen muttered, disbelief and confusion, marring his voice. He had been captured to the south, and had endured hardship at the hands of his orc captors. He was bruised, beaten, and half starved. Weak, would be putting it mildly.
"Hello uncle." Aegon replied, approaching the man.
"What are you doing here? You disappeared from the Wall… I've been looking for you." Benjen said to him, his eyes drifting across Aegon's body. The cold dark wintry cloak that he wore, emblazoned with his own sigil, a combination of the Targaryen sigil, the sigil of house Stark, and his own sigil as Sauron.
It's form was of the three headed dragon facing one way, and the howling wolf's head facing the other, and above both, the crimson eye, that had been his sigil throughout the Third Age. This sigil was set on a black field, which happened to be the preferred field of House Targaryen, as well as representing the pure blackness, that Morgoth had once used as a sigil.
This same sigil was held aloft on the banners of his army, and the crimson eye was often emblazoned on their helms or armor.
Beyond his dark cloak, Aegon wore blackened armor, encrusted with red rubies. An imitation of Rhaegar Targaryen's armor.
"I came North to see the world uncle. The wall isn't the end of that world." Aegon replied, motioning for the orcs to lift Benjen to his feet.
They did so, rather more gently, than he was used to from them. His eyes glanced back and forth between the orcs on either side of him, then to Ghost and then back to Aegon.
"You're commanding these… creatures?" Benjen noted.
"Aye… I am. On my journey into the North I met with a company of them. They took me further North than anyone has ever been. In the cold Land of Always Winter, I met their Queen. A dark and imposing woman, she's got her eyes set on all of Westoros." Aegon explained to him, approaching Benjen. As he did, Benjen noticed that the frigid cold seemed to recede, almost as if it were pushed back by Aegon's presence. The air warmed, almost feeling comfortable.
"You're leading them to attack Westoros?" Benjen said back to him, dumbfounded, and in disbelief.
"I've seen her army, uncle. Three hundred thousand, at least." Aegon whispered, causing Benjen to go rigid. "She'll slaughter the Wildlings and lay siege to the wall, then she'll burn the North and everyone in it. The Wall can't stop her, the Wildlings can't stop her, and the North can't stop her. Her army is filled with beasts, dragons, and other monsters I can't even name. The Wall is going to fall. All of Westoros is going to fall."
Benjen stared at him, fear, disbelief, betrayal, and confusion, dancing in his eyes.
"So you joined with her, this woman in the Far North. You'd lead her army to attack us?" Benjen muttered, his eyes accusing and piercing in a way that only Stark's could be.
"Dragon's uncle. Did you not hear me? I've seen the paltry force on the Wall. Three dragon's burned the seven kingdoms and brought them to heel, our ancestor, the King who Knelt, knew better than to fight them. She has six, and they are massive. The men on the Wall wont survive, the North wont survive. Not unless I can convince them to kneel." Aegon replied, allowing passion, frustration, desperation, and even hope to fill his person, giving off the aura of a man who had seen things, terrible things, and knew that the world was soon to face a grievous threat.
Benjen stared at him for a moment, understanding dawning in his gaze. His eyes danced from Aegon's face, to the armor he wore. In his mind's eye, he could see the banner this army had raised. The coat of arms of houses Targaryen and Stark. Unified as one.
Benjen had long suspected a secret truth. One held by his older brother for a long time. Seeing this, confirmed it in his mind. Jon was not Ned's bastard. He was Lyanna's son.
"You know the truth now, don't you?" Benjen noted, seeking to confirm his suspicions.
"Aye. I know the truth. Lyanna Stark was my mother. Prince Rhaegar was my father. I know they were married in the light of the Seven, and my mother named me Aegon of house Targaryen." Aegon replied, locking eyes with Benjen, who let out a sigh and offered a nod.
"You knew?" Aegon questioned.
"I know my brother, and I knew my sister. I always suspected, but I never knew for certain. Then when I heard you were singing, I was more certain than ever. Ned can't sing, neither could Lyanna. Rhaegar could though, I'd heard him sing when I was a boy." Benjen admitted.
"Than you know that the Iron Throne is mine by right. It's because of that, that the Queen in the far north is willing to work with me. I have a name she needs. A name that can ensure that southern houses will lay down their arms and kneel for her. She's agreed to take me as her husband, and has sent me south to defeat the Wildlings and force them to either submit, or die. Once that's done, I'll march on the Wall, and take it in her name. It's my hope that I can convince the men there to kneel in exchange for their lives. That I can convince Robb and the rest of the North to side with me. Join me. I don't want her armies to burn the North. I don't want our people to die. So long as I lead the Vanguard, I have the chance of stopping a massacre." Aegon explained to him, allowing frustration, hesitation, and even uncertainty to color his features, giving off the impression that he was desperate, fearful even.
His deceptive nature playing through perfectly, making it seem like he'd seen horrors beyond imagining in the Far North, and that is they didn't kneel to this Queen, than everyone was going to die.
He was making the same choice that the King Who Knelt, had made so long ago. Submission for survival.
Benjen could see these things, and nodded slowly, he had been dragged through the main encampment, and had already seen things beyond imagining. Giants, misshapen men, undead, and all other manner of monstrosity. Aegon called this the vanguard, meaning it was only a portion of the true army. There had to be over fifty thousand soldiers here, but it could possibly be far more, for all Benjen knew.
If this Queen in the Far North was truly set on conquering the south, then Aegon was right, the Night's Watch was doomed, and the North would not survive such a massive assault. Not when dragons were amongst them.
"See my uncle taken to my tent, have him fed, watered, and offered warm clothing. We'll speak more soon, uncle." Aegon commanded, earning obedient nods from his servants. A bit too obedient for Aegon's liking. Orcs were crass, and those that possessed subtlety were the minority. Had Benjen been more observant to such things, he would have noticed how uneasy and fearful the orcs were in Aegon's presence. Such a thing would have to be corrected further south.
Benjen fell for his ruse, but the more experienced players would notice that despite his so called desperate gamble to try and save people, his army was quite terrified of him.
Not long afterwards, Aegon arrived at his tent, Benjen was under guard, but otherwise left to his own devices within Aegon's tent. Nothing much resided within the tent itself. Most of Aegon's creature comforts remained stored in a small pouch he kept shrunken on his person.
Despite his body being human, he had long used his magic to increase the power of the blood that flowed in both the Targaryen and Stark lines. Now combined in Aegon, he used that dormant power to enhance the body's natural resilience to his magic, and made it more like an actual focus to his spirit and power, like a wand, or the One Ring. This meant that all of his powers, were accessible in this body, meaning it was easy to keep himself warm with little more than a thought. His body could feel cold, and be affected by it, if he wanted to be, but his control over this body, and the magic it held was so keen that he could alter it, and affect it as easily as breathing.
Benjen had accepted the food and drink provided, and had spent the majority of the remainder of his time, thinking on what Aegon had told him, about what was coming, the threat in the far north, and how it was set to descend on Westoros and kill them all, unless Aegon could retake his throne and bring them all in line.
"Uncle." Aegon greeted him upon entering.
"Jon. Or should I call you Aegon now?" Benjen responded.
"Jon is fine when we're in private." Aegon responded taking a seat in one of the few chairs that lay within the rather large tent.
"So… what is to become of me?" Benjen asked after a moment of silence.
"I don't want to hurt you. But I know that the chances of getting you to forgo your oaths and join me, are slim to none. So for now you're my prisoner. I'll take my forces to the Wall, have the dragon and the flying beast riders go for castle Black, force the Lord Commander to surrender. My Queen wants the Wall intact, or as intact as it can be, but if I need to melt a passageway through it to get South, I'll do it. I have no intention of playing games. As soon as I hit the wall, they'll send word south, and the south will begin preparing. Hope gives them a reason to fight, and it'll get many of them killed. The faster I move, the more lives I can save." Aegon responded, with a sigh.
Benjen let out a sigh, matching Aegon's and moved to sit next to him. The two were silent for several long moments, as Benjen eyed Aegon.
"So… what's she like?" Benjen asked after a moment.
"Who?" Aegon responded, confused.
"Your wife-to-be. Must be a helluva woman to raise such an army and set her sights on all of Westoros." Benjen responded, a small smirk touching at his lips, earning a smirk from Aegon in response.
"Her name is Lilith. But her servants call her Morgoth. She's a sorceress. She came here a long time ago. Something about her kind being extraordinarily long lived. She looks human though, raven black hair, emerald eyes, moon-pale skin. Beautiful, lovely, hard on the outside, but she has a gentle heart, deep down. She's cold to outsiders, distant to people she doesn't know. But… there's a spark in her, a fire that's unlike anything you can imagine. Her ambition is unmatched, and her desire to create a new world, a better world, is something I can empathize with." Aegon explained, his gaze stretching out, staring into the middle-distance, a small smile touching at his lips.
"She sounds incredible." Benjen noted, mulling over his words. Aegon sounded lovestruck, but some of the things he said were quite concerning. This Lilith wasn't human. She was some sort of sorceress. She had been around for a long time. He didn't know what to make of those things.
While Benjen pondered Aegon's words, internally, Aegon was smirking. He would sink his claws into Benjen, warping and twisting his mind, and he would add another werewolf to his pack, it was only a matter of time. With the face of Jon Snow, Aegon could easily slip past a person's defenses, the bastard raised by Ned Stark, an honorable man, people would believe him, because he couldn't possibly be a liar, couldn't possibly be deceitful, not with Ned Stark as the one who raised him.
And because of that, no one would ever suspect that he was really playing to their weaknesses, using their sympathy, or their ties to family, to find a way into their minds, and into their hearts. The staunchest and most self-righteous had often fallen to the Dark Lord's charisma, and domineering powers. These low men, would fall far easier.
So for the rest of the night, he and Benjen talked, talked about Aegon's plans for the North, and how he intended to acquire it without any bloodshed at all, and how he would try to do the same with the Night's Watch, taking the Wall, and the Far North, he could then pardon them, and set them free into his lands.
Benjen was an honorable man, just like his brother, he wouldn't fall as easily as others, but he did hold family in high regard, especially his dead sister's only living son. Before they were finished that night, Aegon would turn him into a werewolf, and from that day forward, Benjen Stark would be a servant of the Dark Lord.
Further and further south they moved, until arriving at the Fist of the First Men. There, Aegon ordered the construction of a large fortress. From the command of this high hill, they would oversee all of the Greater North.
He left a sizable force under the command of a skilled warchief, to begin construction here, as the remainder of his forces closed in on the Wildlings.
Soon, they were within a day's march of them.
Here Aegon ordered a company of warg riders to go forth and harass the Wildling caravan.
Despite their barbaric nature, and their desperation, many of the strongest members of the Wildling host, stayed at the rear to guard against attacks, protecting those that were to weak to defend themselves.
Normally the Wildlings would have left the old and weak to survive on their own, so the only logical conclusion was that it was under the orders of Mance Rayder, that they were acting so defensively.
Regardless, it would make little difference. Even the experienced Wildling warriors had little to no experience fighting mounted units, and wargs were more dangerous than horses. True they lacked the same mass, thus heavy charges were less effective, but wargs were more agile, and they could bite, and claw, as well as slam their bodies into foes. Against unarmored, unorganized foot soldiers, it wouldn't be much of a battle.
The only real threat was the danger of being spotted by one of the Wildling Skinchangers, who could project their minds into the bodies of animals. There existed the danger of being spotted, but at this point, there was little left to do. They were not far from the Wall now, only a few short days march until they arrived so the Wildlings had little place else to go.
Aegon dispatched five hundred warg riders to run down the Wildlings while his army marched after them.
As they followed, he kept Benjen Stark close at hand, being more direct with his influence then he had with Sansa or Robb. Already Benjen was becoming more aggressive, and was quicker to snap. One night he had even tore an orc guard to pieces with his bare hands, in a fit of rage, after having awoken from his slumber. Such proximity to the Lord of Werewolves, sped up the progression of the disease, and it was obvious that Benjen knew something was happening to him.
A day later, they came across the pack that Aegon had dispatched, surprisingly, there were far fewer of them than he had thought. He'd anticipated losing maybe a few dozen against the Wildlings, instead he'd lost well over a hundred.
This definitely required some answers.
"Speak you curs!" An orc chieftain spat as he lashed at the leader of the warg company and his lieutenant.
Both orcs snarled in response but kept themselves in check, not lashing out and risking a conflict with the far more skilled chieftain.
"I told you, we faced horse riders in battle. Dozens of them. They rode against us when we attacked the rear of the Wildling force." The captain of the warg company growled in response.
"The bleeding wildlings have no horsemen! So where'd they come from?" The chieftain demanded.
"I don't know! I'm not in charge of information. I just go where they tell me to and kill everything I see!" The Captain roared back, not backing down, or allowing himself to appear weak in front of his chieftain or his subordinate.
"These riders… did they have a banner of some sort? A mark? Were they protecting the Wildlings, or were they running from them?" Aegon asked. He had stood quietly this whole time, held back in the shadows, only his glowing green eyes visible. The orcs all turned to him at once, as if noticing his presence for the first time.
The three shared a look, but it was obvious the two lower ranking orcs didn't recognize their dark master. The chieftain did though and dropped to a knee.
The other two quickly followed in his actions, despite not knowing who he was. Best to bow, and avoid a lashing, as they say.
"When we were approaching the Wildlings, they were passing through some kind of small encampment built on a hill in the forest. When we attacked, their camps broke into chaos, and out of the chaos those bastards rode out. No real skill, but vicious. Wildlings on horseback." The warg captain explained.
"The Wildlings don't have any horses. If they did, they would have eaten them by now. Anything else of interest?" Aegon demanded, the flames in his eyes growing more vibrant causing the orcs to shrink in fear.
"Their were a bunch of dead black cloaks in the encampment. When we attacked, the Wildlings scattered like roaches. Inside the camp we found plenty of women and children, and a few still living black cloaks, that the wildlings looked like they were gonna torture. Maybe fifty or so. The rest were dead." The Orc captain explained.
"Brothers of the Night's Watch. How many do you think?" Aegon inquired, stepping out of the shadows.
"A lot. Over a hundred at least." The orc responded, reaching to his side and pulling up a long bastard sword to show to Aegon. "Took this off the corpse of one of the Wildlings. Finer steel than anything either groups should possess."
Aegon approached the orc, taking the sword in his hands. His eyes fell to the pommel, a white bear's head. He drew the blade, sensing magic within it. A smile touched as his lips, as he gazed at the rippling steel, that was characteristic of Valyrian Steel.
"The sigil of house Mormont. Their Valyrian Steel sword, Longclaw. Jeor Mormont was amongst those in the encampment. I want him found. Large, burly man. Like a bear. Old, short white hair. Find him, or his body, and bring him here." Aegon ordered, earning a nod from all three simultaneously, as they turned and exited, the warchief berating the two as they went about who Aegon was, and how lucky they were to be alive.
"Fetch my uncle." Aegon commanded to some of the orc guards in the room.
A few minutes later, and Benjen Stark was escorted into the room, his appearance reminding Aegon more and more of Remus Lupin with each passing day.
"Jon?" Benjen inquired.
Aegon was silent, as he rose to his feet and tossed the sword to Benjen.
Benjen caught the blade, and examined it, his eyes widening in disbelief.
"The Wildlings had taken refuge around Crastor's Keep. They ran into men of the Night's Watch there. They killed most of them. That sword was found on the body of a slain wildling. I know that sword belongs to the Lord-Commander." Aegon informed him, earning a slow nod from Benjen.
"Were there any survivors?" Benjen inquired softly, sorrow in his tone.
"A few. I'd like you to come with me to meet them. You'll know who they are, better than I would." Aegon offered, earning a nod from his uncle. The two exited, heading towards Crastor's Keep to see who amongst the Night's Watch had survived, and just what they were doing here in the North.
While Aegon appeared somber, and dismayed at the unneeded loss of life, on the inside, he merely ticked down the number of defenders now on the Wall. An easy task, had now become much easier.
-To Be Continued-
Alright, there you go, hope you enjoy, let me know if you have questions, until later.
