Aegon Targaryen III - 136 AC
Aegon was impressed by the Starks; he had read plenty of books and scrolls on the Starks and the north as a whole. They were the oldest house in Westeros, claiming to have existed ten thousand years before the conquest and ruling the north as kings and Lord Paramounts for eight thousand years.

They were well respected and loved even by the majority of their bannermen, not a feat all the Lord Paramount could claim. He didn't like how they constantly snubbed his house only 'bothered' themselves with the rest of the kingdoms when they felt like it affected them. He hated how they thought themselves so fucking above it all, how they believe themselves so righteous and proud that they could do anything they wanted and still be seen as blameless. He knew that Cregan Stark saw him as nothing but puppet king being controlled by the other Lord Paramounts and held nothing but disdain for him, a notion apparently held by the all the other Lord Paramounts. He knew of how they preferred his brother Viserys to him, a concept that Aegon also preferred. But he still planned to deal with them and their 'notions', which was a personal affront to him.

Aegon looked to beside him and saw his Kingsguard riding next to him; Ser Marston Waters to his left and Ser Mervyn Flowers to his right. Water's loyalty was unquestioned and his above average but Flowers was rumoured to be implicit of his sweet Jaehaera so as to advance his trueborn brother and their house, Aegon didn't put much stock in those rumours as the man had seemed loyal and done nothing that would be deserved of such accusations. He had taken three with him to defend him and his family leaving the rest to defend what little family remained to him in King's Landing.

Ser Joffrey Staunton was better sword than the rest but he was young and rash, he rode by Aegon's brother and hand Viserys as they talked to one another. His wife and children travelled in the wheelhouse just behind them; pregnant Larra and her one-year baby Aegon named in the 'honour' of his brother as Viserys called it. Thinking of his brother's happiness almost made Aegon weep for his losses; watching his mother being devoured before him, the loss of his wife to a suicide of all things.

He thought that she was happy, content with life and being married to him but it appeared not. He had thought of taking a new wife as many lords had offered him their daughters and sisters, but he felt that any love from between a woman's legs wouldn't give him any true happiness. He had thought instead to name his brother as his heir and would rather focus rather on rebuilding the kingdom than being a father, but the gods make fools of us all and instead his brother convinced him to do the opposite and marry Daenaera Velaryon. For the good of the realm, Viserys had said, for the good of the realm indeed.

The girl wasn't the worst but she held no attraction for him. They were courteous to one another, he had bedded her but there wasn't enough love or care for one another to call it anything other than fucking. He had let her go to the Driftmark when enough coin and workers to rebuild Spicetown and High Tide as they had been destroyed during the war. He truly didn't care whether she came back or not.

Their party held a great many people wanting to join their adventure north, some ordered to do so and others out of their free will. The Lord Paramounts of Westeros had come to his call; arrogant Loren Lannister and his buxom Crakehall adorned with the finest gold the Westerlands had to offer, jovial Leyton Tyrell a bumbling fool with a fox-eared Florent for a wife decorated in vibrant greens and bold yellows, over ambitious Hosteen Tully with his meek wife from House Darry embellished with comparatively humble clothes of fine materials with little to no decorations, thunderous Durran Baratheon and his equally loud Dondarrion wife, honourable Jasper Arryn with his plain-faced wife from the Royces, damnable Dagon Greyjoy and the pretty whore he called wife.

Aegon had steadfast allies in the Baratheons, Tyrells and Tullys. That loyalty that had come from his ancestor's actions of placing them as Lord Paramounts, he could trust them somewhat. Not completely of course but more than he did most. The Arryns were his distant kin through his grandmother Aemma Arryn and they had supported his misery during the Dance, but after the dragons died they thought themselves invincible in the Eyrie thousands of leagues above the world and so grew to ignore him except when he called for them by name.

The Greyjoys were the most daring and bold of the Lord Paramounts; certainly the most damn annoying with outright raiding on the Sunset Sea, the man openly denied it but yet who else would dare challenge the Lannisters at sea and most damningly of all use longship raiders. He held some favour for the Ironborn as they had supported his mother during the Dance but they were soon becoming a nuisance.

The Lannisters were a fading power in his eyes, weak leaders with more pride than sense had caused them to gain powerful enemies in their own kingdom such as the Reynes. They had a good man with Jason but the man had fallen at the Battle at the Red Fork, with his death came to a succession crisis that lasted two years. He didn't belive that they could hold onto the Rock for more than a century or two, maybe more if a Lannister with actual brains instead gold led them.

Aegon was fascinated by the northern castles such as Moat Cailin despite the fact he hadn't entered the inner sanctum of the castle, the design was incredible. The castle had three sets of walls in a circular ring around the centre fort; each was as high and as thick as those of Harrenhal. Within each ring, there was a large town, which probably supplied the men who defended the castle. Each wall had at least, ten towers that had massive siege weapons such as listened long-ranged scorpion launchers and devastating catapults that would fire large casks of wildfire and boulders that would decimate any army that was mad enough to attack them. Just outside of the outer most walls was a massive moat that was wide enough to warrant the use of canoes and it looked deep enough that Aegon could stand at the bedrock, reach for the sky and have no hope of breaking surface. Simply looking at the fearsome castle he could understand why no-one tried to attack the Moat, it was suicide.

Although he wondered how many men were needed to fully defend the castle. At least two thousand at the very least, the cost of the castle was to simply pay and supply for the men would be exorbitant. The castle was grand enough to suit a Lord Paramount or even a king. The lord of the castle being a Stark didn't surprise him, the man was seemingly kind enough and was more than able to entertain his host. When they left it was in good enough spirits for the trip. When they reached the newly made Wintercity, they were welcomed by cheering crowds and flower petals being thrown at them from the people who lived from the tall buildings above.

Aegon could count on the back of one hand when being king felt like what the stories and songs said; this is was one of those times. He had never felt more royal or more Targaryen when a city's worth of people came out to simply welcome him; their chants and roars of Aegon, made him feel every bit a dragon. The city itself was beautiful with its artful statues of old Starks; a grey granite Bran the Builder welcomed them to the city of his descendants with builder's hammer of bronze in one hand, iron sword in another and a crown of steel upon him. They were led to the heart of the city; through the King's Gate and one of the large roads that led directly to the Stark Palace. Aegon heard his brother laugh next to him "The Starks don't do anything by half-measures do they brother?" Aegon was forced to agree.

Within the White Palace, everything was a sparkling beauty, adorned with gold and silver. It boasted more than a thousand rooms designed so beautifully that it made the splendour of the much vaulted Casterly Rock pale in comparison. Unlike the statutes of outside, within the palace the statues were of finely chiselled marble and not only of the Starks but also other northern heroes and legends; Bael the Bard seducing a gorgeous princess with a harp of gold and a tongue of silver, Bran Ice-eyes staring to a silver moon with diamonds in the place of eyeballs and his immediate favourite Torrhen the King-Who-Knelt presenting his iron and bronze crown to a strikingly handsome amethyst-eyed Aegon the Conqueror. The portraits were framed with gold and silver, showing artfully drawn wolves, bears and many other beasts of the north.

That occurred little over a week ago, everyone had entertained themselves either by exploring the Wintercity although some parts were still being partially built but overall it was still rather beautiful. When Aegon called a council of his lords to inform them of their his Lord Paramounts he noticed that how relaxed and content they were, he smirked and thought to himself of what a masterstroke it was to have the Lord Paramounts to bring their wives with them as it would keep them in good spirits and compliant to his new reforms. He sat on a golden throne of a moderately large planning room of the Winter Palace.

Aegon waited till all the high lords were seated in their own respective seats around the table, their seats shown to them through their own sigil proudly being displayed on the back of the seat. They patiently waited for him to begin, "My lords, for too long has the kingdom stood divided. Each lord here represents their own respective region and the wishes of their people. I believe that with equal representation in King's Landing we can ensure a diplomatic peace that would be able to create a future where any disputes or conflicts can be able to be settled diplomatically without any cause for violence."

There were mixed responses of this; Stark and Greyjoy stared at him blankly as if he had spoken a dialect of Valyrian mixed with rough Dothraki, Lannister and Tyrell looked vaguely interested, Tully, Baratheon and Arryn were rather enthused for the idea.
Aegon continued confidently "To further this goal, I'd like to create a new title and role; Peer of the Realm. A Peer of the Realm will be given a place on the small council where they can voice of the opinions and speak out for the traditions of their people. A Peer of the Realm can only be chosen by their respective Lord Paramounts and to ensure certain expediency whenever a Great Council is adjourned only a Peer of the Realm can cast their votes." Now everyone was interested and strangely Stark looked slightly worried for some reason.

"A Peer of the Realm can be of any house and there can only one per region. But this is only the first many ways to enforce and lengthen peace in our time. I believe that through marital ties between the families of Lord Paramounts will we further tie the kingdoms together. For example-" Aegon looked around the room for a subject to test his theory upon, "Lord Tully! Yours is a land that is surrounded by various other kingdoms, I'd say marry your children to the Arryns perhaps. But these are plans for tomorrow."

Most of the lords were probably wondering to what end did his reform go. He planned to ensure peace for as long as he could so that none in the kingdom would ever experience such horrors as he did. Not his reign certainly. Aegon's eyes swept over them quickly sparing a second in each lord "My lords, I understand that you would all like to return to your families, and I would soon be dismissing you all but I would ask that you all chose a Peer of the Realm before my party leave the Wintercity." As the Lord Paramounts began to leave their seats Aegon concentrated his view on the main reason he had travelled north in the first place and not have his banners come to King's Landing; Cregan Stark the man who believed he could simply do as he wished without a care of the consequences. He locked eyes with Stark and made his wishes evident; that he wanted to have a private conversation with the lord. The man kept that damnable blank look and promptly sat down.

"You wanted me, my king? Of what reason would I be needed, your highness?" Stark spoke slowly and almost mockingly as if there was a jest that Aegon was unaware of. It made his blood boil. "Yes, there is, you do remember the last conversation we shared together my lord? Where you kindly asked for a small boon for your contribution to the war? Yes? Do you remember how you promised me it would be for the benefit of Westeros ser? Do you remember how began building warships and threatening my reign?!" Aegon spoke slowly, at first, picking up speed and anger as he spoke until the last question was a roar worthy of any dragon. The man remained calm almost bored even, it made Aegon want to have him gelded "I remember my king, I also remember how you broke your word and the oath sworn between our houses. In comparison borrowing, a few coppers seemed like the minor offense at most." Aegon was going to kill this insufferable man. It wouldn't even be hard. Just reach out and snap his neck with a quick twist. It would be worth the war, worth all the deaths, worth all the naming of Aegon the Cruel or the Malicious or whatever. It would be worth the irritating comparisons to his father; Daemon. It would all be worth it to just kill this smug bastard.

But he restrained himself then painfully remembered his mother's death, a sobering thought that ended all ideas of murder no matter how worthy it would be. He grit his teeth and simply ignored the thinly veiled insults and the almost mocking tones of the man before him, besides there were other ways to get revenge that didn't require steel. "No matter Stark, you stole from the Crown-", and no-one crosses the crown, certainly without some painful scars to show for it anyways. "-a fifth of all profits made by any Northern houses or lords for a ten year period will be taken as penace and will be given to the Crown."

There was no physical response from the northern lord bar his eyes going as his colder -if such a thing was possible- as their famed Wall. Aegon knew he had hit a nerve and he felt it sweet to pour salt into the wound. "Also, it may be a reasurace to know that a good portion of this tax would be given to the Faith of the Seven so that they spend it on helping the poor and sick." this was bullshit and they both knew it, the Faith -especially the Most Devout- would rather spend the money rather buying more luxuries for themselves and fucking their boy-whores than actually helping people. It aganist was everything that the ever-righteous Starks and their ancient weirwood gods stood for. And made Aegon almost smile in glee. He stood up, took one more victorious look at the angry snarl on Stark's face and said his half-hearted farewells before he left the room. Content.

Cregan Stark - 136 AC
Well... that could have gone better.

He mulled on the punishment levied on his house and his kingdom, as he lay beside his content wife. He hadn't though about it for most of the day as he had other duties, but now he was unoccupied. It definitely could have gone worse. Hell, had such a lord tried that during the reign of Maegor the Cruel; that lord, his house and every one who had shared wine or broken bread with the man would have died agonising deaths by way of dragonfire. So he wasn't too angered by the tax, it would be over before he would have noticed more than likely.

No, he was more angered that the boylovers and sword-swallowers in the Starry Sept and the Great Sept of Baelor would have even the smallest portion of hard earned northern coin. Coin that would have better used to rebuild the keeps of the Night's Watch and arm its men, or it would have better used throwing dumping in the White Knife for the all good it would be used for in the hands the of the poor jest that was the 'Most Devout'. Their bloody names were the only thing even somewhat correct as they were only devout to their own pockets and own carnal desires.

Cregan remebered the converation he had with Lord Leyton Tyrell over religious tensions caused by Northern traders in Oldtown, the anger of the Faith over the spread of Northern culture in their holy city. "Its not from me or Lord Hightower, just so you know. Its from the Starry Sept, their making a bit of a fuss and it would be just marvelous if you just, y'know just traded a litttle bit less maybe? Or better yet just change religions, it wouldn't be that much of a change would it?" He almost wanted strike the man down, but he knew that it wouldn't solve anything.

No it was the nuisances in Oldtown that was a cause of that. But he had other more immeadiate problems to deal with them; Bolton strengthening, a northern civil war and a lack of men were the main problems. Not boyfuckers on the other side of the world.

The Boltons controlled the mouth of the Last River, the Weeping Water,the source of the White Knife, the north of the Sheepstead Hills and a the south of the Lonely Hills. There were an abundance of towns and villiages on their rivers. They even held a major port on the Last River; the Weeper's Last. They had majority control over the Lonely Hills, and had began building a castle upon it that would consolidate their hold.

They could rally ten thousand men to their banners a rather scary number considering that he could only rally seven thousand, fifteen if one counted the Tallharts,Glovers and Cerwyns. Bolton's strength was only growing, and his maester estimated that their army would soon double his in another fifty years maybe sooner if their rate of growth increased. That didn't feel right to Cregan as it meant that the Boltons could call upon ten thousand men immediately, without out any vassals in the way.

Luckily he the that gods had seen it right to aid him, in his time of need. What else could explain for Roose Snow; Lord Bolton's bastard. A very powerful bastard at that with a Lysene noblewoman for a mother. Lord Snow came to north with one of the delegates that Manderly had sent out to secure trade deals with the Free Cities presumably Lys. Roose had entered Winterfell and begged to speak with the Lord Paramount of the North, Cregan met the bastard in court and definitely see the resemblance between the fifteen year old boy and Royce Bolton,

Roose had the platinum hair showing his Valyrian ancestry, and also had a angular face that gave him an almost unnatural beauty, but it was his eyes that showed his northern heritage they were heterochromatic eyes; one was paler than stone, darker than milk and could send the fear of the flayed man into any creature that looked into it. The other was a soft lilac that reminded Cregan strangely of his mother and all the warmth that it brought.

He didn't trust the boy at all, he had the blood of a Bolton and that meant he was dangerous simply on principle. But he need a way to weaken the Dreadfort and the boy provided a way of that. Even if the boy was a complete failure of a lord it would be the Boltons that suffered, although Cregan doubted that and He would make him lord Lord of the Weeper's Last and Cregan would gain a stranglehold on the trade of the Boltons. With a simple raven he'd be able to able to shut them down quickly in case of rebellions and without too much being blood being spilt.

If Royce disliked it and tried to resist then, he was defying his superiors and that was offense worth complete annihilation for his house. At least it was in Cregan's mind. He didn't have timen nor the energy to fully give the boy the proper pomp and ceremony in becoming a lord of the realm. He gave him a piece of paper stating his new status as Lord Roose Lyeton of Weeper's Last and an armed guard of three hundred Winter Wolves then sent him on his way to the the Dreadfort.

His sigil was black viper coiled and ready to strike on a field of lilac with eyes of crimson. The words of this house would be; Don't tread on me. Cregan couldn't tell if it was a warning or a plea. It was also rather passive for a Bolton, it wasn't like he was expecting a bloody skull grinning on a field of black but all the same it wasn't what he expected from the boy and it unnerved him to say of the least. But when the boy reached the Dreadfort he'd wouldn't be Cregan's problem, if he was found dead and his heavy guard found slaughtered then. All the better as it would allow him to call Royce a kinslayer and have him executed on those grounds alone.

That was one part of a problem dealt with the other parts had yet to be considered. He looked at his sleeping beauty cuddling him and sighed Sweet wife, if only you knew about the problems I faced for us and our children. He stroked her beautiful face and luscious hair, the tips of his mouth a curling upwards as she smiled at his touch.

For you my love, for the North.

AN

Thank you all for reading and even an greater due of thanks to those who subscribed. Massive shout out to LoriensKnight, LiveLikeMe123 and Ice Fire and Blood. You guys are so great and I'm never gonna stop being grateful for your help, thanks.

Firstly, I'm just gonna throw you all a bone and tell you; Bloodraven isn't the guy. In my opinion Bloodraven is the most unique character in the history of the story, I almost wished they portrayed an tv shows during the Blackfyre Rebellions just to see a live action version of the guy. But he's not my favourite, I love just how unimaginative most of you guys are with this; no Stannis Baratheon? No, Robert Baratheon? No, Aegon the Elder? Really?

To Jack Grey Logan; I believe that Aegon didn't honor the pact out of a combination of many several factors.1 The north didn't do enough in the war; they only sent two thousand men when they could have sent thirty thousand. Yes, the war occurred in winter but Targaryens aren't the most understanding at the best of times.2 He didn't believe that the northerns were worth of having a Targaryen princess, the idea of sending a princess of the blood to live in the cold uncivilized north seemed as foreign as giving up his crown. 3 There was only one female Targaryen left and he needed to repopulate the family tree.

To onyxhaider98; the north probably isn't going to be strong until the three quarters through the reign of Aegon the 3rd, marriages to any one outside the north right now is probably a foreign concept as Cregan needs to unite undisputed for it to survive. Alliances outside the north nay may happen but don't expect it until after the Young Dragon's Conquest. The Freys aren't pleased with northern ports reducing the number of people coming through their bridge and will act soon to rectify this. Its only been five years, of Cregan called his banners he'd have thirty thousand men rallied in little under a month with around twenty thousand reserves.

To AlucardY17; Cregan has a good goal with honorable intentions that he tries to complete with dirty and dishonorable tactics.

To X59; there are the seeds of rebellion, as the different houses begin competing against each other for power and strength. Manderly against Bolton against Magnar to be Warden's of the Narrow Sea. Greystark against Mormont. Most of them are just power struggles against neighbours but have the ability to turn them into going something more violent.

Thank you all for reviewing and I hope you enjoyed the chapter

Goodbye!