K so I'm trying to get everything to line up neatly enough so that the events of GoT take place a few years before the events of the Hobbit. I'm going to try to get close, but I know I'll be off by a bit, so please forgive me.
Darkness Reborn
Chapter 4: The Birth of the Dragonwolf.
The Century of Blood they were calling it. A hundred years of nothing but chaos all throughout Essos. The Doom of Valyria. That was what they had named the event that led to the destruction of the Valyrian capitol and the deaths of many of the dragons and dragon lords.
The Century of Blood came afterwards with many of the Valyrian colonies declaring independence. One of the colonies, the Volantenes tried to declare themselves the new rulers of the Valyrian Freehold, but that didn't take. The former Ghiscari cities declared their independence, going back to what they did best, selling slaves to the highest bidder. The surviving dragonlords were quickly killed in various conquests and power plays, one dragon lord named Aurion, even declared himself the new emperor of Valyria and led a host into the ruins of Valyria where most of his forces perished when they ran out of water, and when they tried to drink from the lakes, if they were lucky it was poisoned and if they weren't, it was acid.
Those that survived were quickly cut down by the newest residents of the ruins. Making good on her musings, Lilith ordered a new stronghold be constructed in the ruins of Valyria. The orcs and uruks that had been sent there had stalked the invading force as it entered into the ruined peninsula. Thirty thousand men, led from the back of a dragon. None of them had expected the raw pollution and devastation of the Doom. Without water, the army quickly fell to pieces and was forced to retreat. They suffered incredible losses as they tried to escape the peninsula. Unfortunately for them, they had boldly tried to march straight through, leaving them in the dead center of old Valyria with no water, surrounded by poison.
Within days, a third of the army had died of dehydration. It was when Aurion started to lose his senses, that the attacks began. One night, under cover of darkness, the Orcs surrounded the dragonlord's camp. An Oleg-hai warchief snuck down into the camp, and crept up on the slumbering dragon. With ferocity and precision the Oleg drove a great pike straight through the dragon's eye and into it's brain, killing it immediately. The orcs then set fire to the tens, and rained arrows down on those that emerged. By morning, two thousand more men were dead, and the dragonlord was nowhere to be found. The soldiers broke rank after that and kept retreating. The following day they came upon their emperor. He had been impaled on the same pike that had been used to kill his dragon, and left out to bake in the sun.
Terror consumed the survivors who never managed to escape. Despite the orc host only numbering about two thousand strong, they were able to spend the next week and a half picking apart the remainder of their dehydrated foe. None of the dragonlord's soldier managed to escape. A majority of them died of dehydration, while the rest fell to the poisoned lakes and rivers, or to the orc horde that harrowed them every step of the way.
The Witch King and two of the Nazgul had been sent to Valyria to command a great host of their own and to begin building a new dark fortress within the ruins of the once great capitol. The dark host easily adapted to the volcanic hotbed, which was so very similar to how Mordor had been during Harry's reign. They had no difficulty at all surviving amongst the poisoned gases and volcanic lava flows. New orc pits were dug in the ruins, and the fresh deaths made it all but certain that the powers of darkness would flow easily in this place of despair and suffering.
Few dared to enter the ruins of Valyria after the death of Aurion and his army, with whispers of it being haunted quickly filling the streets of every city across Essos.
Without the Valyrian dragon-riders to hold them back, hordes of Dothraki horse riders surged out of the grassy planes of Essos and began to raid, rape, and pillage all across the western side of the continent.
The Century of Blood was the perfect distraction for the construction of a new base of power in Valyria. A new fortress was constructed out of the ruins of Valyria itself. Again named in Latin, it was called Arcem Ossa. The Fortress of Bones.
And over the course of fifty years, it rose out of the decrepit ruins as a twisted fortress surrounded in smoke and fog, encircled by the dead city that was once the capital of the greatest civilization in the history of this world.
From this fortress, the Witch King would rule, and prepare an army for the eventual conquest of Essos.
Eighty years after the destruction of Valyria, Tantibus Arcis, had completed primary construction.
In the far north a twisted kingdom of shadows had risen.
This massive fortress was built on the backs of orcs, uruks, olegs, and human slaves. These human slaves were kept alive with what little food that could be found, and when they died, they were simply raised as wights and forced to continue working. The army of dead men that never stopped working made things progress at a rapid rate.
The main tower of the fortress stretched high into the sky and could be seen for miles in any direction. It was wide and tall, built in a similar design as Barad-Dûr, though much wider at it's base. Atop the massive tower was an enormous blue stone, standing at nearly twenty feet high and fifteen feet across. This stone radiated with the same magics possessed by the Heart of the Others. Lilith had copied those same magics and had created this massive power stone affixed atop the main tower to be capable of generating an unending blizzard around the fortress.
The glow of the blue stone could be seen for miles, almost like a beacon, calling men forth into the storm to freeze to death.
It also allowed orcs to navigate within the blizzard by simply looking for the blue glow in the sky while they moved throughout the Land of Always Winter.
The tower itself was half built into the side of a mountain, and rose almost halfway up it's peak. Battlements and smaller towers dotted the mountain along with constructed pathways and scaffolding. Hidden passageways allowed exit and entrance into the mountain where a network of tunnels filled the interior and delved deep down beneath the fortress and mountain.
Surrounding the base of the main tower was a series of walls, battlements, and smaller towers crisscrossing back and forth forming staging grounds, training yards, and an almost honeycomb like defense around the main keep. Several smaller forts dotted this honeycomb like network, preventing invaders from pushing towards the massive tower, without first taking down each fort in turn.
This crisscrossing pattern stretched out for nearly half a mile around the base of the tower itself. Outside of the honeycomb battlements, sat a wide open space where deep pits had been dug into the Earth. These pits connected to the massive caves and tunnel systems that were dug beneath the dark citadel. From these pits, smoke rose into the air, as countless forges smithed armor and weapons for the massive host.
Beyond these pits lay two outer walls which stretched nearly around the entirety of the stronghold. To the north of the fortress and the mountain it was built into was nothing but taller mountains and sheer rock faces, that were nigh impassable, unless one could fly. The fortress itself had been constructed into one of the lower laying mountains of this mountain range. The surrounding outermost walls had been built in the image of Winterfell's walls. An exterior set of walls that were sixty feet high, and twenty feet thick, dotted with towers, battlements, and equipped with machicolations. The second wall was build with a forty foot gap separating the two. A moat filled with spikes, separated the first wall from the second. These walls were eighty feet high, and built in much the same way. The first set of walls had no inner facing defenses so if anyone managed to get on the outermost walls, they would have no protection from those on the inner most walls.
Aside from the pits, a few forts of stone filled the gap between the outermost walls and the inner honeycomb fortress, and with each passing day these fortresses grew larger and larger, the intention being that one day there would be nothing but a massive impregnable fortress that would be unbreakable by even an army of millions. It would be a fortress so massive that not even the combined might of the Valar could over take it.
Of course, such was the grandeur of Lilith.
Over the Century, Harry spent most of his time moving between their northern fortress, their fortress in Valyria, and the isle of Dragonstone where the Targaryens resided. There he would continue to use his magic to strengthen the dragon's blood in their veins.
The results were interesting. After nearly a century the head of house Targaryen, Aegon, had his sights set on Westoros.
Harry watched with great interest as Aegon and his sister wives set off for Westoros, leaving Essos in the past.
Landing at the mouth of the Blackwater rush, they constructed a wooden fort atop a muddy hill overlooking the sea. From there they struck out against Westoros, and one by one, the seven kingdoms began to fall.
The first to be destroyed was house Hoare and the Ironborn who were burned alive in the recently constructed Harrenhal. Such a massive project had been started forty years prior and had been built on the backs of Ironborn slaves. The castle itself was more massive than any other on the continent save for Tantibus Arcis. Such a mighty fortress would have been the dread of any would-be invader, had Aegon not simply turned it into the worlds largest oven from atop the back of his mighty dragon, Balerion. The final brick of the great castle was said to have been laid on the day Aegon landed in Westoros.
House Durrandon fell next. The lord of Storm's End marched against Aegon's Bastard half brother, Orys Baratheon, and Queen Rhaenys. It was a hard fought battle but in the end, the bastard threw down the high lord in single combat and took his home, his house, and his daughter for his own, forming House Baratheon, the new lords of Storm's End.
Next house Gardener, and house Lannister joined forces to try and crush Aegon's army. They formed a force of nearly sixty thousand, and this force was quickly laid to waste by Aegon and his sister-wives. With their three dragons they burned the massive army and brought down the Gardener line. The Lannister King quickly surrendered. The Lannisters bent the knee and got to keep Casterly Rock. House Tyrell, the stewards for the Gardeners, graciously handed over Highgarden and in turn were named the new lords of the Reach.
Not long after the Starks arrived from the North intent on dealing with Aegon and his army. Aegon met them at the Trident, a day after laying eyes on Aegon's army and his dragons, King Torrhen of House Stark, wisely surrendered, and got to keep his ancestral home and maintain his position as ruler of the North.
Next came the Vale and it fell with ease, when Visenya Targaryen rode her dragon to the Eyrie and kindly asked the boy-king's mother to surrender the castle and bend the knee. Seeing the threat to her son and the heir to the Eyrie, the woman chose to submit rather than risk his life.
From there, Aegon marched south towards Oldtown, intent on taking the heart of Westoros and the seat of the religious faithful. When he arrived though, he found the gates open, and the High septon graciously welcoming him. The leader of the faithful then happily proclaimed that Aegon was the rightful king of Westoros and bestowed him a ruby crown and named him Aegon of House Targaryen, First of his name, King of the Andals and the First Men, Lord of Westoros, and Protector of the Realm.
Quite lofty titles. In less that two years the Targaryens had conquered nearly all of Westoros. All that remained was Dorne.
Much as her elder sister had done, Rhaenys flew across the vast deserts and landed in Sunspear, ending up right in the garden of the princess of Dorne. Whatever was said between the two, had caused Rhaenys to turn tail and fly right back to her family.
A few months later, Aegon and his armies arrived in Dorne, but they were met by no armies or any enemies at all. The Dornish had retreated from their cities to hidden outposts, allowing the Targaryen host to capture Sunspear and take Dorne for their own.
Not long after Aegon and his sisters left, the Dornish rose up, murdered the garrisons left behind, and reclaimed their cities. Soon Rhaenys returned, but when she did, the Dornish were ready. Even as they burned, they fought on, until finally a bolt pierced the eye of her dragon and knocked it out of the sky.
Aegon's wrath was terrible, and he and his sister set fire to every castle, town, and keep in Dorne. But the Dornish did not break.
Lilith and Harry watched with great amusement as their enemies fought. The Dornish proved that the valor of man still existed, and both Dark Lords intended to punish them for such reminders.
Aegon's conquest taught them both a great deal about their enemies and how the lords of Westoros waged wars.
This great conquest furthered Harry's decision to take a Targaryen as his new body. For he would be able to regain not only a physical form, but the throne of Westoros, and the twisted seat forged from the thousand swords of Aegon's enemies.
Such would be an easy victory for them, when the time was right.
Dorne managed to hold off against Aegon until he finally accepted their independence. In time they would join the rest of Westoros but for now, his wrath had burned out.
Aegon had a grand city constructed at the point where he had originally landed when he'd come to Westoros. Harry had watched as the city rose from the mud, forming into King's Landing.
The age of Targaryen leadership had begun.
Harry remained close to the Targaryens, hiding amongst the people of King's Landing. He kept in constant contact with his sister and his servants as their armies grew. At night he would talk with Lilith about their shared past, going over every single day that he could remember, no matter how dull, no matter how mundane. He filled her mind with his memories of the past, helping her to understand who she had once been, and what they had lost.
Days turned into months, months into years. The Targaryen reign brought with it many intriguing alterations to their plans for Westoros. Harry was never far from the action, often encroaching onto the minds of the Targaryens in their slumber.
During this time, the Great Dragon's returned into being. Deep in the heart of their northern kingdom, beneath their winter fortress, these giant monsters grew and aged, stronger then ever before.
Time passed, and Aegon died. His eldest son with his beloved Rhaenys took the throne, but he did not hold it for long. His death came quickly, and Aegon's second son, Maegor took the throne soon after, stealing it away from the rightful heir and dealing with the rebellious faith militant. Harry had a great deal of fun with Maegor. It was with Maegor that Harry first began to appear, draped in illusions and under the guise of the Lord of Gifts, he showered Maegor with blessings and an elven blade, taken long ago during an ancient war. The blade had been called Celairarad, meaning Brilliant Morning. A magnificent straight sword, the blade itself was silvery-white, and along the lower fourth of the spine were a set of four amber gems on either side extending up from the cross-guard like a sunrise. The cross guard was a magnificent white-silver similar to the blade and encrusted with mythril gems. With a pommel and handle of white elven wood.
The blade itself was utterly astounding to the eyes, and when it had been offered to Maegor, the people within his great hall swooned and awed at it's brilliance.
Under the guise of Annatar, Harry bid the great king good fortune and his hope that Celairarad would bring great fortune to the Targaryen dynasty.
From time to time, Annatar would reappear, using his illusions to appear in a splendid elven form. And often he would deliver great gifts to the Targaryens when he did. No one knew where he had come from, and attempts to follow him, never met with success.
Over the years he would return, offering his blessings, and plying the Targaryens with gifts. When Maegor died, Annatar appeared before his heirs.
Time passed and Annatar continued to appear. Filling many with disbelief and suspicion at the pointy eared man who did not age.
In times of sickness in the Targaryen line, Annatar would offer them a cure not even the maesters could come up with. During times of war, Annatar offered them secrets of their enemies.
The people were in fear and awe of the undying man, and the Targaryens came to honor him as an ally.
Years passed as the two dark lords prepared for war, their numbers growing rapidly in the dark and abandoned places of the world. With each passing day, Harry's plans for the Targaryens evolved and grew, until one day he decided that he wouldn't just take a Targaryen as his host, but a Targaryen and a Stark. The blood of the great dragons, and the blood of the werewolves. He would groom both lines, and forge a host of great power that would be nigh unstoppable.
Annatar began to walk the frozen wastes of the North, bringing to the Stark Lords various secrets and techniques.
The friend of the Dragons became the friend of the Wolves as well, and in time the Starks could only thank this seemingly unaging mystic that would appear from time to time, usually during era's of hardship and offer them solutions. When Annatar spoke, people listened. He never asked for gravitas and he never remained long enough for men to throw tourneys or hold banquets in his honor. He was there one day and gone the next.
Once during a time of famine, Annatar provided the Starks with seedlings, taken from the frozen lands of Middle Earth. These seedlings would grow thick blood red weeds, who's roots dug deep into the ground. The roots of these weeds could be harvested and eaten, and could help them survive in the brutal cold. His gift bore fruit, saving thousands from starvation during a particularly long winter. Afterwards a Stark ruler, a wild and mighty man, declared that Annatar would forever be a friend and guest of the Stark household and demanded to know what could be done to repay the undying noble and charismatic friend of the North.
For once in his many years, Annatar gave a reply. He asked to be given Moat Cailin, so that he could restore it to it's former glory.
His response had earned barking laughter from the old Stark Lord. Even when asking for a reward for his service, the Lord of Gifts lived up to his name. Having Moat Cailin repaired and rebuilt, would allow the North to more easily defend itself. The place was a ruin though, unfit for one so regal and noble as Annatar, yet he was firm on his decision.
The Stark lord accepted his request and granted him the ruined keep. Annatar accepted it graciously, even swearing fealty to the Stark Lord as a sign of service and good faith. Now with a base in the heart of Westoros, Annatar began to further his plans.
Across his time there, Harry would occasionally leave his position at Moat Cailin, departing back through the portal to Mordor, where he would further plans there with the aid of the Nazgul. Back in Middle-Earth he began to openly restore his forces in Mordor, and seized control of the ancient fortress of Dol Guldur in Mirkwood, where he began to amass power.
Harry also dispatched emissaries from Dol Guldur to Moria where whispers had reached him of a shadow lurking deep within the ancient dwarven kingdom. If his suspicions were correct, another Balrog could be lurking there, and he intended to return the Balrog, back to his master's side.
Years passed, and a great Targaryen civil war broke out. When it did, Annatar met with both claimants to the throne, offering them gifts and his wisdom on their foes, all the while he passed information on what both were doing to his Liege Lords, and to Lilith.
The Dance of Dragons, it had been called, a terrible conflict that saw most of the Targaryen dragons destroyed, and those that remained, severely weakened. That served Harry's purpose just fine. Without dragons it would be easier to prevent other factions from rising against him when the time was right.
Time passed and nearly a decade after the Dance, while residing on Middle-Earth, Harry heard whispers that the Great Dragon Smaug, had taken the dwarven kingdom of Erebor for his own. Harry was quick to dispatch emissaries there as well, to try and convince the mighty dragon that the true dark lord had returned and she was calling her servants back to her.
Many more years passed, and more Targaryen civil wars tore through the land, often at the hands of Targaryen bastards, the Blackfyres.
Annatar offered the Blackfyres none of the aid, he did the Targaryens. They would be enemies upon the day, and he refused to assist them in their wars.
Eventually, after nearly two-hundred-and-sixty years of Targaryen rule, Harry knew he was ready. The beautiful prince Rhaegar Targaryen had been born. And from this man, Harry would gain his Targaryen blood. Not long after, the Lord of house Stark had a daughter, Lyanna. She proved to be a fiery wolf, the blood of the werewolf was indeed strong in her.
Harry took a leave of absence from his fort at Moat Cailin, the ancient fortress having been repaired by his magic and was now garrisoned by descendants of the Valyrian slaves, taken before the Doom. These slaves had been twisted into Lilith's service, and were now undyingly loyal to their dark master.
Harry had gone south to King's Landing. There he offered his services to king Jaehaerys II Targaryen, Rhaegar's grandfather. The stories of the old Lord of Gifts hadn't been forgotten by the Targaryens, and Annatar still visited on occasion to fulfill his name sake and offer them his wisdom. Lord Jaehaerys accepted Annatar into his service, keeping him close as an adviser. Not long after, Jaehaerys died, leaving the throne in the hands of his son Aerys II Targaryen.
Annatar kept close to the young king, whispering in his ear. Even when Aerys named his old friend Tywin Lannister as his hand, Annatar kept close.
Tywin and Annatar got along better than one would expect. Tywin was utterly ruthless, and Annatar admired that trait within him. They butted heads on occasion, but held a mutual respect for one another, due to their cunning.
While Tywin advised the king and the two worked together to build a prosperous Westoros, Annatar befriended the young boy Rhaegar. As the boy grew, Annatar whispered prophecy into his ear.
Aerys began to show signs of an ill temperatment and a paranoid nature, soon people began to lose faith in Aerys and turn their hope towards Rhaegar. Aerys had Rhaegar married to Elia Martell of Dorne, refusing to have him married to Tywin's daughter Cercei, forming a rift between the two, that would eventually lead to Tywin stepping down from his position as Hand of the King.
One day, Aerys found himself held prisoner by some of his subjects, during what was later known as the Defiance of Duskendale. For nearly half a year, Aerys was held prisoner. He was only freed after Ser Barristan Selmy, one of his Kingsguard managed to sneak into the city and rescue the king.
From that day onward, Aerys began to slip into madness. A madness that served Harry just fine.
Aerys' form began to twist and sicken as Annatar whispered treachery into the king's ear. Arguments between Tywin and Aerys became more commonplace and Aerys himself grew more paranoid and fearful. He'd even brought over an Essosi to serve as his Master of Whispers, not trusting any Westorosi to not whisper deceptions into his ears.
With everyone's focus on the growing madness of the King, Annatar was easily able to work his magic on the young Rhaegar. Filling the young man's mind with ideas of prophecy and destiny. More specifically, the prophecy of the three headed dragon, said to bring prosperity to the world, and end a great tragedy.
Rhaegar was kind, and noble. Beautiful, and generous. His only fault was his belief in such mysticism, but Rhaegar was smart enough to keep such thoughts to like-minded company.
Rhaegar had two children, Rhaenys and Aegon, both of whom could have been suitable candidates as Harry's new vessel, but he was determined to see his plan through. The heightened dragon's blood in Rhaegar's veins made Elia's pregnancy difficult, and both times it nearly killed her. Attempts to get a third child out of her, would have no doubt caused her death. Which forced Rhaegar to find another to give him a third child.
During a great tournament held in Harrenhal, Rhaegar and Annatar watched as a strange knight, short in stature and wearing mismatched armor, unseated three knights, and as payment for them ransoming their horses and armor back, ordered them to teach their squires some humility and discipline.
Everyone had been curious about this strange knight, dubbed the 'Knight of the Laughing Tree', due to the laughing weirwood tree painted on the shield. It was Annatar who saw through the knight's disguise, whispering into Rhaegar's ears as many pondered the strange knight's identity, that the person hidden under all that armor, was a woman.
This earned a great deal of curiosity from the young prince whom was later found singing under a tree, after claiming to be unable to locate this unknown knight.
It was later confirmed in Harry's mind that Rhaegar had indeed found the Knight of the Laughing Tree when he won the Tourney and crowned Lyanna Stark the Queen of Love and Beauty, over his own wife.
Things progressed nicely from there. Within two months, Rhaegar brought Annatar into his confidence, telling him about his secret correspondence with Lyanna Stark. Feigning ignorance on the matter, Annatar encouraged the pursuit, as Lyanna could provide Rhaegar the child he needed to fulfill the three-headed dragon prophecy.
Not long afterwards, while heading south Lyanna Stark disappeared with Rhaegar, the two slipping into Dorne where they were married in secret.
Lyanna's betrothed, Robert Baratheon, through a fuss when he heard, and Lyanna's older brother, Brandon Stark, was furious.
He rode to the capital and demanded Rhaegar answer for his supposed crimes. Aerys had him imprisoned, and summoned his father, Rickard Stark to the capitol. Once there he charged the Lord of Winterfell with treason. In turn Rickard demanded a trial by combat.
The Mad King obliged, and took fire as his champion. He had the Lord of the North strung up by the rafters and held over a fire, where he cooked to death in his own armor. His son, Brandon was forced to watch, a noose tied around his neck, and a sword set just out of reach. Brandon strangled himself trying to reach it.
The Mad King's actions would no doubt trigger a war. So Annatar made to appear to argue against the brutal slaying of the Stark Lords, as did many of the king's council, and after their deaths, Annatar stole away the bones of the Starks, and the northern lords, and had them sent North by some of his loyal servants.
It was time now for Annatar to leave the Targaryen's side. Aerys was furious, proclaiming this to be a new betrayal. He ordered Annatar seized, but the Lord of Gifts, responded in kind, drawing a blade and cutting down twelve men in a flurry of steel. Even in spectral form, Harry's abilities far outclassed normal humans.
The Kingsguard stood terrified, the fear in their eyes was unmistakable. Aerys himself cowered in his chair as Annatar's eyes glowed like wildfire and he smiled cruelly at the Mad King.
With a declaration to return to his rightful Liege Lord, Annatar drew a knife and tossed it at the Mad King, the blade, finding rest, less than a quarter-inch from the man's cheek. The King let out a terrified howl and cowered away from the blade as the Kingsguard attempted to rush the Lord of Gifts. Only for Annatar to grin wickedly, and dispel his illusions, fading completely from sight.
There had always been whispers of Annatar's magical abilities. Some called him a warlock from the Far East of Essos, others said he was a descendant of the Children of the Forest, regardless of their beliefs, many stories of his magical abilities had sprung up over the years, but there had rarely if ever been any evidence beyond his seeming longevity to indicate such things.
Before his departure, and true to his trickster nature, Annatar approached the terrified Mad King, and whispered into his ears that he would not live to see the end of this war, and he would die, terrified, and alone.
This sent the Mad King spiraling out of control. He spent the remainder of the day, screaming and frothing at the mouth, accusing everyone of plotting against him.
Meanwhile, Annatar slipped out of the Red Keep, and headed south. Finding his way to where Rhaegar and Lyanna were tucked away, Lyanna already heavy with child.
Annatar remained unseen as he hovered around the pregnant wolf. Every night he would hover over her, passing his essence into her unborn child. The end result left her sickly, quite often, and unable to leave the tower, as her pregnancy progressed.
Word reached his ears of a rebellion led by Robert Baratheon, Ned Stark, and Jon Arryn. Rhaegar heard of it as well, and was forced to march north along with an army of Dornish men to reinforce the royal host against the rebels.
Despite his skill with a blade, Harry knew that the noble prince was unlikely to survive.
It didn't matter regardless. Each day, Harry poured more and more of himself into the unborn child growing in Lyanna's belly, just as he had done with the Ring so long ago.
Not long before the birth of the child, Harry got into contact with Lilith one final time through the two-way mirrors they possessed.
"So the birth will happen soon?" Lilith inquired.
"Yes. Within a fortnight or so." Harry answered.
"It will be good to have you back in the flesh, brother." Lilith said to him.
"Yes. I look forward to finally being able to truly touch you again, when we see each other. How goes things in the North?" Harry responded.
"Our army has grown massive, and is ready to be unleashed. While you spend time getting acclimated to your new body, I will begin sending my forces south to engage the Wildlings. Reports from Mordor and Valyria indicate sizable armies gathering there as well. The time is coming soon, brother. We will make this world ours, and when we return to Arda, we will bring fire and death to all who oppose us." Lilith stated to him, earning a vicious grin from Harry.
"I look forward to seeing you then. I ordered one of the Nazgul to carry something to you, something I've been preparing for quite some time." Harry informed her, earning a curious look.
"Oh?" Lilith noted.
"It's a diary. In it, I've filled the pages with all of my memories of the past. We've spoken at length on the life we lived so long ago, but my hope is that this diary will give you a clearer insight into our past. The things written within you much never openly address. That which is covered by Taboo is inside. Truths that I cannot say. While I am away, I hope that you will read my journal, so that when we meet again, your questions will be answered." Harry offered to her, earning a nod of acceptance from Lilith.
"I look forward to the day, brother. And I will fill my mind with your memories, and perhaps, reawaken some of my own in the process. Until then… my beloved..." Lilith said to him.
"Until then… my heart…" Harry replied, offering her a loving smile, which he knew would made her flustered. It worked like a charm, causing her to avert her eyes and smile, before cutting the connection.
Harry let out a sigh and turned his gaze up towards the sky. He then lowered his gaze down to his hand, staring through the flesh and the earthen ground beneath him.
"Time to awaken, and behold the fruits of my labor." Harry hummed to himself, before rising and returning to the tower, where he finished pouring the remainder of his essence into the unborn child within Lyanna's womb.
On the opposite end of the continent, Lilith felt a shift in the fabric of the world. Harry's aura faded, becoming bound and tightened within the constraints of something. A small smile touched at her lips, despite the weakening of his presence, she could still clearly feel him over their connection. It may be a decade or more before she heard from him again, but she would keep herself busy until that moment.
Regaining her focus she turned her attention to a mass of shadows nearby. As her gaze settled on the shadows, fire erupted from them, and Dathrag roared to life.
"The time has come, my loyal servant. We shall begin marching south. The wildling tribes will be the first to fall." Lilith commanded.
"And fall they shall, my master." Dathrag hissed in response.
"Gather the warchiefs. War is upon us." Lilith ordered her servant as she turned and exited the room, passing through to a balcony that overlooked the massive icy citadel. Fire and activity lit up the area, and hundreds of thousand worked tirelessly, building and training and reading themselves for war.
"Return to me quickly, Harry. Our war begins now, and this world, will soon face our wrath." Lilith grinned out over her army
The shadows had finished building in the North, now they were ready to be unleashed.
Back in Middle-Earth, a meeting had been called by members of the White Council. Including the Elf-Lord Elrond, the Lady of Light Galadriel, and the Wizards, Saruman, and Gandalf. Terror had spurned the need for a meeting as a dark presence had arisen and departed from Moria.
"The shadow in the depths has vanished?" Saruman inquired.
"Yes. I have felt it. Fading away from this world, as if, like a dream." Galadriel answered.
"If the shadow truly was a Balrog of Morgoth, what are the chances it has moved to ally itself with Sauron?" Elrond asked aloud.
"We have seen no proof that the Dark Lord can again take form in this world. Shadows are growing in the east, but Mount Doom remains dormant. If Sauron has returned there, he has not shown himself." Saruman answered.
"If not to Sauron, than where could it have gone to? The only force in this world that it would ever ally itself with is Sauron. Otherwise, the Balrog would work alone." Gandalf questioned.
"There is one other, for which they both serve. One who could summon both Dark Lord and Demon to her side." Galadriel noted, earning a shivering quiet from her fellow councilmen.
"Such a thing should not be uttered, lightly." Saruman noted.
"You correct. And yet… where has the beast of Morgoth gone to, if not to her side?" Galadriel stated.
"We must have answers. Perhaps an expedition into Mordor, to see what shadows stir there?" Gandalf suggested.
"Mordor, or perhaps Moria. We sensed the shadow's departure, but how certain are we that it is truly gone?" Saruman inquired, earning a tense quiet from his fellows.
"The shadows are rising. This… was not anticipated." Galadriel noted, her face filling with deep concern, and in her gaze, fear danced like flame.
"We must investigate. Speculation will get us nowhere. For now, we need information." Saruman noted, rising to his feet.
"Than I will gather it." Gandalf offered, earning the gaze of his fellows.
"I will venture to Mordor and see what I can find there. If nothing reveals itself, than I will walk the path of Moria, and seek the shadow's heart. If the beast is truly gone, than I believe lady Galadriel is right, and our fears are far worse than we could possibly have imagined." Gandalf said to them, earning quiet acceptance from the group, despite none of them wishing for such things.
Silently, the White Council disbanded. Information was needed, now more than ever. Something had happened, something that none of them had foreseen. If there was even the slimmest chance that Morgoth had returned, they needed to know, now.
-To Be Continued-
Alrighty there you guys go. That's where Jon comes into play, the story will now, more follow his perspective going forward. I hope you enjoyed, as the full story will begin here in the next chapter, now that the backstory had kinda been dealt with. Anyway, enjoy.