Alrighty, time for the next chapter, just one more time for clarifications purposes, this will be using a lot from Game of Thrones, but the timeline will be sped up, like in ASoIaF. So while the characters will still be aged up to what they were in Game of Thrones, the events will occur quicker, instead of the year by season timeline of Game of Thrones, and be closer to the speed of events in the books, which take place over three years, rather than eight.
Also I debated with myself on whether or not to split this chapter up, but I ended up not finding a good place to split it into two parts, so I've instead made it one epic chapter for you all to enjoy. I hope everyone is staying safe with this virus going around and I hope you all can get a bit of enjoyment out of this that'll hopefully lessen the boredom I know you are all enduring. Stay strong my friends, stay strong and we'll make it through this.
Darkness Reborn
Chapter 10: The Dragon's Descent
Benjen let out a scream of agony as his bones condensed and shaped, as he retook human form. He collapsed to his hands and knees, gasping and shaking as pain racked his body.
It felt like an eternity before the pain subsided, and when it did, Benjen Stark was left breathing heavily, sweating, and shivering. He felt hot breath brush his face, followed by wet licking and let out a grunt of annoyance.
"What the hell is happening to me…?" Benjen muttered as he lifted his gaze to look into the blood red eyes of Ghost.
The wolf had grown quite large since the first time Benjen had seen him. Almost a year and a half old now, and the pup was already about the size of a full grown wolf, and he was still growing by the day.
It had been nearly two weeks since the Wildlings had bent the knee to Aegon and sworn their allegiance to him. As promised they were let south of the Wall where large camps were built in the shadow of the towering structure. The Wildlings were kept under watch, and kept on a tight leash, though otherwise they had been given freedom to spread out and build homes and lives for themselves within the territory that Aegon had conquered.
By now his forces had fully captured the Wall, taking and manning every castle along it's northern face, as well as capturing the remaining members of the Night's Watch. The order was now extinct as every man with any sense could see that there was no chance of resisting the massive army that had gathered here.
Since then Aegon had sent his forces south to secure the Gift and the New Gift, bringing every town and village under his control and installing garrisons in or around these villages to keep the people in line, and orderly.
Aside from that, these last two weeks had been a grueling experience of waiting. More forces were marching south to join them and would arrive any day now. Aegon had started with over a hundred thousand in his army, but in his trek south he had left thousands behind at various points of interest to construct castles, and forts, plus those that he'd lost attacking the Wildlings, had left his total forces at nearly eighty thousand. Another ten thousand was marching on the Wall to join them in heading into the North.
Scouts had already been dispatched to gather information for them as word had reached them of raids by the Ironborn, all along the North's Western coast. If the North was under attack, Aegon intended to deal with these threats before moving further south.
While that was going on, Benjen was experiencing almost nightly transformations into his wolf form. What had once been almost nightly dreams of such transformations, was now a far more vivid and real experience than ever before.
He knew now that it wasn't a dream, it was something major happening to him. Something he didn't understand.
Looking down at his hands, dried blood had dyed them a rusty red.
"What's happening to me?" Benjen muttered once more.
"You've awakened your wolf blood." Came a familiar voice.
Benjen lifted his gaze to the surrounding forest finding Aegon standing not far away, watching him quietly.
"Jon? What are you doing here?" Benjen asked.
"I followed you when you left last night. Wanted to see what was wrong with you. To answer your question, it's your wolf blood activating. You're becoming a werewolf." Aegon informed him, stepping up to his uncle and squatting in front of him, placing a hand on Ghost's back as he did.
"A werewolf? What are you talking about?" Benjen asked in response.
"Stark's are descended from wolves. That isn't a saying, it's actually true. Lilith showed me the power in my blood. The power of dragon's blood, and wolf's blood. Within the blood of all Starks lies the power of Warging. We're skinchangers, we get it from the Children of the Forest. But we Starks also have the blood of werewolves in our veins. Just like Direwolves. See uncle, if you take the blood of a werewolf and put it in a human, you get another werewolf, but if you put that blood into a wolf, you get a direwolf. In essence, making us cousin species, descended from the same progenitor." Aegon explained as he scratched at Ghost's back.
"So you're a werewolf too?" Benjen asked.
"I am. Lilith told me her return would cause magic to come alive once more. And in that case, people with such gifts as ours would begin to experience them again. She showed me how to control the powers in my blood, I can show you too. Show you the power our family possesses." Aegon offered, extending a hand to his uncle and helping him to his feet.
"So… we can turn into wolves… that's what a werewolf is?" Benjen surmised, as that had been what was happening to him.
"At it's simplest yes. But werewolves are far more than just men who can shapeshift into wolves. Werewolves are stronger than men, faster and more agile too. You've probably noticed these things already. Our instincts are stronger, and our aggression as well. We become higher magical beings, and become immune to almost all forms of damage due to our regenerative abilities. In essence, we heal so quickly that almost nothing can harm us." Aegon explained to him, earning confusion from Benjen, which caused Aegon to smile.
"A werewolf is invulnerable to most types of damage. If I took a regular sword and stabbed you through the chest with it, it would hurt like hell, but it wouldn't kill you. Instead, a few moments after the blade was removed, the wound would be healed. A werewolf can fully regenerate any lost organs, and rapidly regrow bones. Our bones as well are far stronger, able to stop steel from cutting through." Aegon offered a more in-depth explanation which earned even more bewilderment from Benjen as he processed that.
"So a werewolf can't be killed?" Benjen surmised.
"They can. It's just very difficult. Magical weapons such as Valyrian Steel can cause magical injuries. These injuries take longer to heal which can mean death for the werewolf if a mortal wound is struck. A werewolf will die if it looses it's head. Given the strength of our bones, separating the head from the body is easier said than done. Fire is another way to kill a werewolf. You set it on fire, and that disables it's regenerative abilities, or I guess I should say, it forces the werewolf to regenerate from the flames, and thus will be open to any further wounds put upon it. One of the easiest ways to kill a werewolf is to set it on fire and then hack it to pieces. There's also silver. Werewolves have a blood allergy to silver. If we get any silver within our bodies it can cause an allergic reaction that disables our regenerative abilities, kind of like fire, but more permanent, so long as it remains in our bodies. Outside of those methods, killing a werewolf is extremely difficult, and werewolves age exceptionally slowly. Often times able to live for five or six hundred years on average." Aegon further explained to his uncle, earning dumbfounded amazement from the man. To imagine something that simply couldn't be killed unless by special means. That was a type of magic that was outside of most people's understanding.
The two spent the remainder of the night in the woods with Aegon explaining to Benjen more about being a werewolf and even showing him that he could transform. He offered to teach Benjen how to control it, and the former ranger agreed, not wanting to be a danger to others, or to lose control any longer.
After that, every night Aegon and Benjen would head out to the forest and practice shapeshifting into wolf form and learning to control their abilities.
Aegon made a good showing of being moderately skilled at these abilities to give the impression of a few months of extra practice, but he didn't have to hold back to much as Benjen learned how to harness the powers of his wolf blood.
Soon it wasn't long before the two, along with ghost were running through the forest at night, hunting to their hearts content. Benjen wasn't the only person that Aegon began to teach though. Maester Aemon, his great uncle, had Targaryen blood, and thus the blood of Great Dragons within his veins. These magics would make him very powerful indeed, and allow him access to incredible magical abilities.
At first the old man was one of the few people who chose to retain his vows. Even if the Night's Watch was gone, Aemon was still a Maester of the citadel, and while he accepted serving the new king, and his blood, he still held to his maester vows.
With Lilith's help, Aemon had his youth restored, an act of magic, that drew dumbfounded amazement from the wildlings, and the former brothers of the Night's Watch. Reversing his age wasn't overly difficult. Rituals could have been used for such things, though they were taxing on the body. A far easier method was to utilize something like the Elixir of Life, a potion constructed from a Philosopher's Stone. Lilith had once made her own stone after studying the works of Nicolas Flamel. She had lost her original stone when the Earth was destroyed, but here in Westoros she was able to make a new one during the centuries. With it, she could brew the Elixir of Life, and use it to easily and safely restore the living to their youth.
Due to the Great Dragon's blood within the old Targaryen, Lilith was in agreement that restoring the old man to his youth and training him in the ways of sorcery would make him a powerful servant indeed.
Aegon spoke with the old maester often, and waited for his opportunity, a moment, during their discussions when Aemon cursed his old age, for making him unable to even see his beloved Great-Great-Great nephew's face. Aegon offered to heal his sight and restore some of his youth which earned a playful scoff from the old man, though he didn't refuse. More likely he didn't believe such magics existed, so when offered the Elixir, he accepted it, thinking it no more than a comforting drink. He then went to sleep, and the next morning, guards and former brothers burst into his room when they heard the old man weeping.
What they found upon their arrival was not the withered form of a man over a century old. Instead they found a man in the prime of his life. No older than twenty-five or thirty. His worn grey hair was once again a radiant silver, his skin no longer sagged, the whites of his blind eyes gave way to a vibrant purple. He was the picture perfect embodiment of a Targaryen.
He had awoken to his sight returned, his body no longer ached as it once did. The world had seemed so heavy before, and yet now, it was as light as a feather. He had openly wept at the ability to see once more, and he further cried when Aegon stepped into the room, and he heard his voice.
The old maester held his face and stared at him, memorizing every line and feature. He then laughed, a Targaryen with wolf colors he called Aegon.
Many of the older members of the Night's Watch, like Benjen were deeply moved by seeing Aemon restored to his youth. They greatly respected and admired the old maester and to see him so wide-eyed and happy, raised their spirits.
Aemon spent the day meeting many of his former brothers, and took the time to learn their faces. He even took a trip to the top of the wall to stare out over the far north and the rest of Westoros in the south, taking in sights he hadn't seen in decades.
The old man nearly fell to his knees when he caught sight of Midir soaring high in the clouds. The titanic beast often earned reverence from those that spotted him, as he dipped out of the heavens, or slumbered upon the high hills.
Aemon had so many questions about Midir, why he looked so different from the stories of Valyrian dragons, and why he seemed to radiant.
Aegon took his time to explain to him why Midir wasn't like Valyrian dragons. Aegon explained to him that Midir was a 'Great' Dragon. Great dragons were far more powerful than normal dragons. They were smarter than men, and could speak a multitude of languages. They had access to magical spells, and hypnotic powers. A Great dragon was akin to dragon royalty, as lesser dragons would often follow and nest around Great dragons. Midir was also ancient, having been created by Lilith when she was around eighty years old. Tens of thousands of years had passed since then. Truly this great beast was unlike anything seen in nature.
Soon Aemon's interest turned towards the orcs, uruks, olegs, and other various beasts. As a maester he was interested in learning and expanding his knowledge and Aegon was happy to indulge him, his aim to draw the old maester further and further into the grips of sorcery and dark magic.
After a week or two more The Iron Titan arrived with his army to join up with the Lord and Lady of Darkness upon the Wall.
The night of his arrival, thousands gathered upon the Wall to watch as Aegon and Lilith began the ritual to summon forth the deceased Balrog from death.
Wildlings, former members of the Night's Watch, Benjen, and even Aemon stood atop the Wall staring down as the surrounding orcs began to chant.
Roars began to rise as a feeling of dread surged through the air, and the dark of night seemed to grow even darker.
"What's happening?" Samwell Tarly inquired.
"Who the fuck knows." Grenn replied with a shake of his head.
"Some sort of magical ritual." Aemon noted as his eyes scanned the fields of dead.
While Aegon sat before the sea of corpses, the Resurrection Stone cradled in his hands, drawing forth the spirit of the fallen Ainur, Gothmog. Before the sight of thousands, a shadow began to rise over the field of dead bodies.
A great and terrible shadow, an aura of blackness that made even those looking down from atop the Wall feel small and insignificant.
The orcish chants grew louder as the shadow grew, and upon it's manifestation, Lilith commenced with the ritual.
With her staff held before her, words began to dance from her lips. Spells in an ancient and forgotten language filled the air, passing even through the winds and carrying up to the observers. Black and green wisps of energy began to flow out from her body, dancing out into the field of the dead.
Gasps of fear, and terror went out as the corpses of the fallen Wildlings suddenly began to rise to their feat, lifting from the ground in inhuman ways, twisting and stretching as they stood upright.
Their eyes glowed a sickening bluish-green and it caused many of the observers to shrink back in terror.
Lilith's voice grew in intensity, her spells becoming more foul and twisted. One by one the corpses began to erupt into ash. It began with a few at first, but then, suddenly, thousands of bodies were erupting creating a storm of ash that flowed into the shadow that stood amongst it all.
This continued for several long moments, as haunting wails and orcish chants filled the air. Suddenly, and without warning, the gathering cloud of ash and shadow burst into flames and formed into a nightmarish abomination, not seen for thousands of years.
An unearthly bellow of rage tore through the air as a titan of fire and shadow was reborn into this world.
"Gods..." Samwell muttered fearfully.
"What in fuck is that?" Edd growled out.
"A demon." Aemon muttered, his eyes wide in awe of the flaming beast.
Lilith let out a sigh as her the spells died on her lips and she focused her eyes onto the towering Balrog before her.
The souls and bodies of tens of thousands, to resurrect one of her greatest champions. A fair trade. Of course these souls and bodies weren't enough, it was also the fear, and despair that Aegon had instilled in them as he hunted them across the Far North that aided in this ritual. Had they simply fought and died valiantly like a great army of men, such a ritual would never have worked. Instead they were terrified and they died afraid, and hopeless. Full of despair.
"My master… it is you! I felt the call of Sauron, guiding me back to the living realm, but it was unfamiliar, distant. Yet I find you and he here, waiting." The Balrog spoke as it towered over the two.
"Hello, old friend. It has been to long." Lilith greeted with a smile, earning a bow from the Balrog in return.
"Gothmog, you have returned to us. Now the Balrog stand as three." Aegon hummed, earning a nod of agreement from Lilith.
"Yes. I have called you back to my side, and you did not hesitate to come. It has been long since you fell in battle, during the fall of Gondolin. I have much to tell you, my old friend." Lilith offered to him, earning a growl of acceptance from the mighty being.
That day marked a turning point for the men who had recently entered into their service.
The trolls, Fellbeasts, spiders, and the Dragon Midir, were offerings that quelled many a man into service, yet the sudden appearance of the mighty Gothmog, destroyed any thoughts of rebellion. With his appearance men fell over themselves to serve to the upmost of their abilities, fear, terror, and awe, guiding their actions.
Aemon and Benjen questioned Aegon about what they had seen, about what Gothmog was, Aegon offered to them that the Balrog were servants of Lilith, fire spirits that helped shape the world. By his admission, the Balrog could be easily recognized as a god in living form. Such a prospect dumbfounded both men, but Aegon further shocked them by revealing that according to Lilith, a Balrog had unleashed the Doom upon Valyria, when the Valyrians had mined to greedily into the Earth, and awakened it from it's slumber.
When asked why such godly creatures would serve Lilith, Aegon postulated that they saw in her, the same things that he did, an indomitable will, and a power beyond the so-called gods of their world. He also expressed to the two of them that this was the power of their blood, the strength of wolves and dragons, could be used for such great and terrible rituals.
It was the sight of this that confirmed in both of their minds, that Aegon had been correct in his assumption that there was no fighting her. If she could command a beast such as a Balrog, something strong enough to bring about the Doom of Valyria, then the only hope for the people of Westoros was to submit to her, before she turned her wrath upon them.
Fear and awe of her might, and Aegon's quickly spread through the ranks as word passed through of the sorceress who wielded gods and dragons as her weapons.
Early the next morning, Mance Rayder appeared before the king, to make his offer of tribute.
"Four hundred?" Aegon reiterated, as he passed his gaze over the troop of wildlings standing before him.
"Yes. Four hundred of the best killers, hunters, and bloodletters, from among my people. Led by Tormund Gaintsbane." Mance offered.
Aegon gazed at the collection of men and women. There was fear in their eyes, an unease that seemed to permeate their troop. They were afraid of him.
Finally, Aegon's eyes drifted to their leader. A tall, bulky wildling, with fiery orange hair, and a long beard to match. His gaze was heavy and hard, and he stood before his troop, more confidant and less fearful than the rest. Aegon locked eyes with the man who stared back, unflinchingly.
"Tormund Giantsbane… as the warchief of the wildlings under my command there are a few things we need to clarify. First, you and your band will follow orders. Second, unless otherwise stated, any and all loot gained from pillaging, is yours to keep, and either use for yourselves or return to your people. Third and finally, any and all newcomers that join with your ranks are to be reported, so that we can maintain an accurate count of our forces. I don't care if you pillage, raid, rape, kidnap, or murder on my campaign, but you will follow my orders, attack only those I deep our enemies. For those I name foe, treat them in whatever manner you deem fit, and only for so long as I deem them foes. I aim to conquer this land, and thus our enemies will eventually be my subjects. Do you understand?" Aegon commanded.
"You want us to help you kill your enemies and take their castles and lands for your own. Seems simple enough." Tormund responded with a shrug, earning a look from Mance.
"Good. Than welcome aboard. Join your forces with my army and prepare to move. You and your people are excellent hunters, scouts, and you're fast on your feet. I'll have you working in the vanguard of my army, where your skills will be the most useful." Aegon commanded, earning a hard nod of understanding from Tormund.
"The Gift and the New Gift are now under your authority Mance Rayder. Until you establish yourselves, I will offer you leniency in the area of taxes and further tribute. This grace period will last for ten years. Upon it's completion I expect your people to be able to pay tribute or taxes to the crown." Aegon stated, turning his gaze back to Mance Rayder.
"And what form would these taxes or tribute take?" Mance asked in response.
"Whatever your people have in abundance, that will not break them in payment. I intend to establish a realm of order, free of chaos. To help in that regard, my people must know a degree of prosperity. So I will only demand that which they can afford to give. Be it furs, food, ores, money, or even men. You will find a way to contribute to the realm. Once I've earned the allegiance of the north I will work with the Starks to open trade between your two peoples. As I said, you have ten years to situate yourselves and settle into your new homes. Until such a time, Chieftain Urs-Rethog, will oversee the protection of these territories from any southern invasions. Once your people are established, I will allow you to officially name a lord of the Gifts, who will stand as your leader and representative in matters of state. You have ten years to work it all out, so try not to waste time." Mance nodded at that, as Aegon moved away, leaving the wildlings to carry out his commands.
After leaving, Aegon made his way to the top of the Wall where he found Lilith staring out across the northern expanse. As he approached her, he noted that it was odd of her to be looking North. Lilith was ambitious by nature, she tended to always keep her goals in sight, almost literally in some cases. It fit her character far better to be staring south, while she brooded or plotted.
Aegon had known her for so long that any action that fell out of character stood out to him. Every since he had returned to her side under the guise of Mairon, he had always kept a close eye on her actions.
He stepped up next to her and allowed his gaze to fall on the northern expanse, nothing seemed to stand out to him, nothing that would force his sister to make it the focal point of her gaze. The mysteries of this land, while intriguing would soon be unveiled as their armies came to dominate the land. Ancient histories, long quiet magics, and all sorts of secrets, long since lost to myth would be uncovered now that they had claimed the Far North.
Still, he did not see what could have caught her attention.
"You seem to be deep in thought?" Aegon noted aloud.
"Yes." Lilith responded, her voice light, and soft, in the bitterly cold northern air. Another oddity that Aegon quickly noted, the air was cold, and the chill of the wind tried to push through the heat of his presence to nip at his skin. As a lord of fire and shadow, he had always run hotter than normal. The warmth of his presence often feeling like a freshly lit flame, even when he was calm and passive. Despite this, the heat of Lilith's presence always overwhelmed his own. When she was awake, standing next to her, or before her could feel like standing next to a pyre, and when she grew impassioned, such heat could easily blister the skin of those close to her, and that spoke nothing of her rage.
When she slept though, her aura grew quiet, and cold, like the darkness that filled her heart. So he was accustomed to the absence of her flame when she slept, yet here she stood, awake with the world so cold around her. So cold in fact, that Aegon could begin to feel the chill pressing into him. If he didn't have such magical defenses, this chill would have easily repelled anyone who came near.
"You're cold." Aegon stated, addressing his concern.
Lilith continued to stare off for a moment before turning her gaze to him, as her eyes found there way to his he caught sight of something strange. When calm her eyes would match how they had looked in her first life, a vibrant and sometimes blazing emerald green, similar to how Aegon's looked when he grew passionate. Normally though her eyes were alight like flames. A blazing orange, or a hellish red, depending on her mood. Now though her eyes were orange and glowed like a fire burned within them, and yet, around the pupils, was a ring of blue. And the blue was noticeably visible to his gaze. It truth her eyes actually looked like a lip gas burner. Blue around the pupils and orange at the edges.
He had never seen her eyes look like that before. Her eyes had never been blue, not even as Melkor.
"Lilith… your eyes, there are blue rings around the pupils." Aegon stated, with a mixture of curiosity and concern.
"Truly?" Lilith hummed quietly, as her gaze darted away from him for a moment before returning. When they did, he saw the orange overtake the blue, returning her coloring to something familiar.
"Is something wrong?" Aegon asked.
"Wrong? No. It's just… something I've been feeling lately. Ever since we left Tantibus Arcis. I've felt this echo, like something is trying to reach out to me. It's strange. It's like I can feel it's call coming from the Far North, and yet, it echos from far away. Almost like someone shouting through a tube. Their voice comes out of one end, but that isn't where they are." Lilith replied, turning her gaze back to the far North.
"Do you believe this to be a problem worth looking into?" Aegon inquired.
"Not yet. I've yet to truly grasp what it is that is calling to me. It's whispers are unintelligible, and yet, I feel they have great meaning. There is power behind them, yet I cannot tell how great. For now though, we should keep our minds focused on the task at hand. This world will fall to us, and once it does, we will pilfer it's secrets and it's treasures in preparation for our return to Arda." Lilith responded as she tore her gaze away from the North and began to walk towards the lift.
Aegon stared after her, his gaze questioning and filled with uncertainty.
Lilith outwardly appeared not overly concerned and yet, the change in her eyes and the cold feeling of her aura, these were physical changes. He would have to keep a close eye on her, and on this unique development. Perhaps some time away from the Far North would do her some good.
At least, Aegon could hope for such a reprieve.
Not long after, their army began moving south. Eight thousand were left on the Wall along with about five hundred wildlings, while the rest of the wildlings spread out over the expanse of the Gift and the New Gift.
Aegon's army along with the remaining Nazgûl, Gothmog, and the Iron Titan, descended on the South. A massive army of over eighty thousand descended down the King's Road towards Winterfell.
Few if any guards even dared to approach the massive force until they reached Last Hearth, the home of the Karstarks.
A few guardsmen from house Karstark rode up to the army, led by Aegon and Lilith to inquire as to who they were.
Aegon answered them, telling them that he was Aegon Targaryen, and he had come to retake his throne. To emphasize his point, Midir fell out of the clouds and let out a roar that shook the earth and sent the three guards scrambling back to Last Hearth where they proceeded to cower behind their walls as the massive army passed them by.
This was the way of it, as the army moved further and further south. Anyone who spotted the massive force, quickly hid in their homes and prayed that it would pass by without incident.
Soon they were arriving at Winterfell, scouts sent ahead reported back something very interesting to Aegon and Lilith.
The banner of house Greyjoy soared above Winterfell.
"That's not possible." Benjen noted with a shake of his head.
"The Scouts were certain. It's the banner of house Greyjoy. The Stark Banner has been stripped from the castle, indicating that it is under Greyjoy control." Aegon responded, earning a frustrated sigh from Benjen.
Nearby Lilith sat, quietly observing as they discussed what to do with this new information.
"There's no way the Greyjoys could have amassed a force large enough to have overtaken the castle. They must have snuck in somehow, that's the only reasonable explanation." Benjen insisted.
"I agree uncle. Our scouts didn't spot more than a few guards atop the walls. Maybe ten at most. I have no doubt that this was an act of infiltration. We will retake the castle, and free those held prisoner within." Aegon placated him, earning a nod from Benjen.
"It's odd that the Ironborn would be so far inland, your grace. Deepwood Motte is far closer to the sea, Torrhen's Square has access to the ocean via river, same with Barrowtown. All of these places would be far easier targets for the Ironborn to harass. Winterfell is a bold choice, even if it is undermanned." Aemon noted, drawing Aegon's attention to him.
"You're right. Winterfell is bold. Far to bold for even the Ironborn. Perhaps Balon wished to send a message. Target the Starks at their home. We'll see when we arrive." Aegon agreed, turning his gaze towards where Lilith sat watching them.
She stared back, but said nothing, curiosity danced in her gaze, as she waited for him to decide how to proceed.
Aegon turned thoughtful at that and paced in thought around the tent for a few quiet seconds before stopping before the Witch King.
"Prepare a vanguard of spider riders. When we arrive at Winterfell we'll send them over the walls of the castle and overwhelm those within. Can't be more than a hundred Ironborn or so within. A lightning strike will service us in taking the castle with ease." Aegon ordered, earning a bow from the wraith as it immediately departed to carry out his commands.
"Order the army to prepare to march. We'll arrive at Winterfell in less than a day." Aegon ordered the remainder of his generals.
"My lord." A newly arrived orc, dropped to a knee upon entering the tent.
"What news?" Aegon inquired.
"Our scouts have located a company of northmen marching on the castle. They'll arrive there around the same time as us. About six hundred or so." The scout explained.
"Then let us meet them, and allow them the opportunity to join us in reclaiming Winterfell." Aegon ordered, earning a bow from the scout.
The following day, Aegon met in parlay with the leader of the northern army marching on Winterfell. This army was comprised of Bolton men from the Dreadfort. Their leader, Roose Bolton's bastard son, Ramsay.
Aegon sent his generals ahead of him to meet with Ramsay Snow, and Aegon soon arrived upon the back of his Fellbeast. Lilith remained behind, and continued onward with their host, closing the distance on Winterfell.
Aegon's arrival drew dumbstruck awe from the Bolton men, and their leader Ramsay was equally unnerved by the sight of the orc, uruk, and oleg warchiefs, as well as Aegon and his mount. The only humans present were the commander of the Wildlings, Tormund Giantsbane, Aemon Targaryen, and Benjen Stark.
Aegon remained atop the beast as he stared down at the Bolton men.
"Well met, countrymen." Aegon offered in greeting to them.
"Your accent marks you a northman." Ramsay replied cautiously, his eyes flickering from Aegon to his Fellbeast.
"That's because he is. You stand before Aegon, of houses Targaryen and Stark. Son of Rhaegar Targaryen and Lyanna Stark." Benjen informed them.
"Targaryen?" Ramsay muttered in surprise.
"Aye. I was raised by lord Eddard Stark as his bastard son. You may have heard of me by the name he used to hide me. Jon Snow. Lord Eddard lied about my identity to keep me safe from the Baratheons and the Lannisters. He did not wish for me to meet the same fate as my brother and sister." Aegon stated, his gaze cool, yet piercing.
I'm assuming your here for the same reasons we are?" Ramsay noted after a moment of collecting his composure.
"We intend to retake the castle in the name of house Stark. Once that is done, I plan on reinstating one of the Stark children as lord, if they remain alive, and I will purge the Ironborn from these lands, and move south to join my cousin Robb." Aegon stated, his eyes locking with Ramsay's, and seemingly piercing into his very soul.
A small smile touched at Aegon's lips as he peered into the heart of the bastard sitting before him. This Ramsay Snow was as twisted and vile a man as he had ever seen. Such a cruel and heartless creature would be valuable if he proved to have the wits and cunning to match the vile filth of his heart.
"March with us, and I will see you and your men greatly rewarded, and I will pass on your deeds to Robb Stark himself." Aegon offered.
Ramsay was silent for a moment as his eyes flickered from Aegon to the warchiefs at his side, and than to the Fellbeast once more, before finally returning to Aegon. He let out a light chuckle and grinned, "Well you've convinced me. I see no reason why we shouldn't work together. My father has ordered me to retake the castle from the Ironborn, with us both working together, I see this as going much smoother. How many men er- beasts, do you have?"
"In total? Over eighty thousand." Aegon responded with a smirk, causing Ramsay's jaw to drop open, those by his side were equal in their surprise.
"Come. Let us see this done. Winterfell is within sight." Aegon ordered, taking flight and returning to his forces.
Within an hour the attack had begun. A thousand spider riders surrounded the castle and attacked it from all sides. They scaled the walls with ease and were able to cross the bridges connecting the outer walls to the inner ones, before the Ironborn could remove them. As Aegon suspected there wasn't more then about a hundred Ironborn within the castle, and they never saw the attack coming. By the time they saw Aegon's force cresting over the hills, marching towards them, the spiders were already closing in on the walls.
Despite their skill in battle, nothing can prepare a man, not in-the-know, for the agility of a spider charge. They scaled the outer wall with impossible ease, cresting it in seconds, the goblins upon their backs were armed with spears, javelins, and bows.
Aegon's army didn't even need to exit marching formation. By the time they made it to the castle walls, the gates were already opening.
Inside the surviving Ironborn were held on their knees before the great keep, among them, Theon Greyjoy.
The Ironborn watched, dumbfounded and terrified as they were surrounded by snarling orcs, growling wargs, towering olegs, and vengeful northmen. They could only watch as Midir soared over the castle, letting out a world shaking bellow. Theon himself stared in amazement as Aegon landed and dismounted from his fellbeast, and slowly approached them.
"I guess that answers why they came here." Aegon hummed as he locked eyes with Theon, who stared back in disbelief.
"Jon?" Theon muttered.
"No. Aegon Targaryen." Aegon replied as he stepped up to the kneeling Ironborn.
"Greyjoy! You did this!?" Came the snarl from Benjen as soon as he dismounted his horse.
More fear flickered in Theon's eyes as he spotted Benjen approaching him.
Aegon held up a hand to halt his uncle's advance, knowing full well Benjen wanted to rip Theon limb from limb.
"Theon… look at me." Aegon ordered as he knelt in front of Theon. "Where are the Starks?"
Theon's eyes passed back to him, and he began to shake.
"Gone. Vanished. They were my prisoners… but then they disappeared." Theon replied shakily.
"Liar! You murdered them, burned them!" Came the shout from Maester Luwin as he was escorted into the courtyard by the orcs.
Hearing that, Benjen had to be physically retrained by two uruks to stop him from advancing and literally beating Theon to death with his own lungs.
"No! I didn't! They were farmers boys. Orphans. I couldn't find Bran or Rickon. It wasn't them. It wasn't them I swear!" Theon cried out in fear.
Aegon was silent for a moment as he closed his eyes and let out a sigh. He then rose to his feet and turned to a nearby warchief. "Find them." He ordered, plainly and simply. With a quick nod the warchief turned and began to coral some orcs to form a hunting party.
"Take Theon to the dungeons, as for the rest of the Ironborn, have them drawn and quartered." Aegon commanded earning vicious cheers from both the orc and the northmen, while the Ironborn let out cries begging for mercy as they were dragged away.
Theon was little more than a terrified mess as he was carried off by several uruks.
Aegon slowly turned his attention to Maester Luwin who stared back, and offered Aegon a curious yet grateful nod.
"Maester Luwin, my army has taken the Wall and freed all men of the Night's Watch from their vows. Until Bran and Rickon are found, Benjen Stark is acting Lord of Winterfell, until Robb returns." Aegon explained to him, earning a nod of agreement from the man as he turned towards Benjen.
Benjen was quiet for a moment, indecision dancing in his eyes. Being Lord of Winterfell was never something he wanted, but the Starks had a saying, 'there must always be a Stark in Winterfell.' until the boys were found, or Robb returned, he was that Stark.
"Maester Luwin, I leave the running of the castle in King Aegon's hands for the moment." Benjen ordered, before turning to Aegon, "With your leave, your grace, I would like to go and look for my nephews."
Aegon offered him a nod at that, and Benjen quickly departed to go and join with the hunting party.
Aegon then turned his gaze towards where Ramsay Bolton and Tormund Giantsbane stood, not far off.
"If either of you brought along any skilled trackers, their assistance in finding the Stark children could be invaluable." Aegon expressed, earning nods of agreement from both men.
"Come Maester Luwin, I'm sure you have much to tell me about the recent happenings during my time away." Aegon ordered the old man.
The remainder of that day was spent tearing down the Greyjoy banners and manning the castle. Maester Luwin spent the day explaining to Aegon, everything that had happened since he'd left.
Aegon, and Lilith sat quietly as the Maester explained how an assassin tried to kill Bran with a Valyrian Steel dagger, after Aegon's departure. He explained how Catelyn had found a long blonde hair in the tower Bran had fallen from, leading her to believe it was a Lannister who'd pushed Bran from said tower. Catelyn then went south, to get information and on her way back, she arrested Tyrion Lannister and brought him to the Vale of Arryn. While there, Tyrion won a trial by combat and was freed, but in response to the arrest, Ser Jaime attacked Ned in the streets of King's Landing before fleeing the capitol. Not long afterwards, Robert Baratheon died from an injury sustained during a boar hunt, and Ned Stark was arrested, presumably for treason against the new king Joffrey. Robb called the banners and marched south to free Ned but they didn't make it in time, and Ned was executed. Robb was named King in the North, and now the North and the Riverlands were in open rebellion. Word had it, that Renly Baratheon had been murdered, and Stannis had launched an attack on King's Landing which ended in failure. News of that attack had just reached them, only a few days prior. Now Robb was in the south fighting against the Lannisters, and doing very well on that account, as he hadn't yet lost a battle.
Upon completion of his explanation, Aegon brought the old maester up to speed on the newest changes in the far north. How he had agreed to marry the Queen in the Far North, and now led her army to take Westoros and reclaim his birthright.
Before the sun went down, Bran and Rickon were found, luckily enough by Benjen, who decided to visit the crypts before departing with the hunting party. The boys were found down there, alongside Hodor, and they were being cared for by a Wildling woman, who had been captured some time after Aegon had left Winterfell.
Now Aegon sat with Benjen, Bran and Rickon, having explained to the two boys that he was in-fact their cousin, not their brother, and that he was a Targaryen.
While Rickon didn't fully understand, Bran could only nod in acceptance of it, with Benjen backing up his claim, he had no reason not to.
"Can we still call you Jon, even when you become king?" Rickon inquired, earning a smile from Aegon.
"Yes. You both can call me Jon, if you like. We may be cousins by blood, but Lord Eddard raised us as brothers. Brothers look out for each other." Aegon answered.
"So what happens now? If Robb is king in the North?" Bran inquired, earning a curious look from Benjen as well.
"Lilith will not stop until all of Westoros is under her command. My Targaryen heritage makes me valuable to her. I have to go south and convince Robb to bend the knee to me. I'm hoping once he sees my army, and hears of how we retook Winterfell and drove out the Ironborn, he'll accept it, as will the northern lords." Aegon responded, doing his best to express the idea that he was all that stood between them and the army that he commanded. Without Aegon leading them, this same army that had liberated the castle, would be attacking it right now.
"Just like Torrhen Stark, the King-who-Knelt." Bran noted, earning a smile from Benjen and Aegon.
"You've been paying close attention to Maester Luwin's lessons." Aegon noted.
"What'll happen to Theon?" Bran asked after a moment of silence.
"I'll take him south with me. Present him to Robb. Perhaps he can still serve as a useful hostage in dealing with the Ironborn. With that in mind though, he is a traitor. You know what happens to traitors." Aegon replied coolly, earning a quiet nod from Bran, who seemed conflicted on it.
"Until then though, Lord Stark, we have a kingdom to secure." Aegon finished, departing from the chamber.
That night a message was dispatched by a trusted rider, south to be delivered to Robb, to ensure that it didn't fall into enemy hands. In the days that followed Aegon dispatched some of his forces into the west, to push back the attacking Ironborn. Bran sent word to all the surrounding lords and ladies that the army that carried the banner of the dragon, the wolf, and the eye, were friends of house Stark, and allies of the North.
Theon was interrogated and out of curiosity towards the truer nature of the man, Aegon asked that Ramsay Snow be allowed to handle his questioning. The bastard accepted the position claiming it to be an honor, though Aegon payed close attention to his methods. Being in Winterfell, Ramsay couldn't employ his more gruesome tricks, so he primarily used psychological torment, having himself appearing as little more than a servant to one of his men, who acted as the real interrogator. He dug his way into Theon's confidence by sneaking into his cell late at night and offering him food or drink, claiming to be Ironborn as well.
From one side, he pressed Theon for information, and from the other, he tried to build a rapport with the Greyjoy heir.
He reported daily to Aegon on his actions, and Aegon did little to hide his approval of such methods, he was quickly learning that Ramsay Snow would be a powerful tool, if unleashed properly.
It helped that Theon didn't notice Ramsay when he had first been captured, to focused on Benjen, and Aegon, and the various beasts that accompanied them.
While the Ironborn were being pushed back, and they awaited Robb's reply, Aegon turned his attention to Bran. He took his time to study the young boy, and his various dreams, and quickly deduced that the boy was a green-seer and had the power of skin-changing. This made him a useful tool to have. One day, about a week after they had arrived in Winterfell, Benjen asked if it was possible to heal Bran's legs. If Aegon had learned of any spells, or if he could ask Lilith, surely if they could restore Maester Aemon to his youth, than they could heal Bran's legs.
Aegon offered to look into it, admitting that the healing of Maester Aemon came from returning his youth to him. It wasn't true healing. With that being said, he was certain it could be done.
A day later, Lilith herself appeared and offered Bran his mobility back. While Aegon could have done it himself, he saw this as a perfect opportunity to endear his 'Queen' to the Starks by restoring Bran's mobility. Such an act would make her appear less of the distant loner that she appeared since arriving. Lilith often kept to herself when not commanding. It was how she always was. If she wasn't actively working, she didn't like to be around people she didn't trust. Work kept her focused. Boredom left her vulnerable, and she didn't like being vulnerable around strangers.
Bran accepted her offer, not nearly as weary of magic as many of the older generation.
Aegon, Benjen, Maester Aemon, and Maester Luwin, all stood watch as Bran was placed into a dreamless sleep by Lilith. He was then placed on his belly and Lilith stood over him, drawing her wand and running it along his spine. The end of the wand glowed dimly, earning amazement from the three men, while Aegon stood opposite of Lilith, watching her intently as she worked her magic.
Lilith silently went about her work, using her magic to analyze the damage. Once she knew for certain what was wrong, she set about repairing the injuries. Silence permeated the room as the glow of Lilith's wand changed colors as she went about her spells.
It was Maester Aemon who approached Aegon's side and asked for an explanation.
"The first spell she used was a diagnostic spell. It allows a healer to view the damage done to the individual the spell is used on. Right now she is undoing the scars left over from what has healed on it's own. The body can't really heal such injuries correctly without assistance, so what it has done will have to be undone. Once she removes unnecessary tissue, she can begin repairing the rest of the damage." Aegon quietly explained.
"And she can do all of this without opening him up?" Aemon inquired.
"Yes. It's all happening within his body. The diagnostic spell she used is still active so she knows whats happening within him, without needing to look at it. The nature of the spell is difficult to explain, but it's almost like she can sense what's happening by using it." Aegon offered, earning a nod from the man as he shared a glimpse with his fellow maester whom nodded back in response.
The room remained silent for another few moments as Lilith continued her work.
"Maester Aemon, please step over to my side. I need the two of you to hold his legs still. I'm going to repair the damaged nerves, the shock of it may cause his body, more specifically his legs to jolt, which could cause further damage before I am done." Lilith stated.
Aemon was quick to circle the table, and do as he was bid. Aegon followed suite, both holding down Bran's legs. Both could feel as his muscles suddenly flexed and his legs jolted. His feet began to twitch and tense as Lilith restored his mobility.
Aegon smiled at this, sharing a glance with his grand-uncle whom also smiled. The twitching continued for a few moments before stopping as Lilith finished her work and holstered her wand.
"The damage is healed. His mobility has been restored. He hasn't walked in a while so his muscles will have atrophied, and he may be off balance for a bit. It should all come back to him in short order." Lilith explained as she undid her spell that kept him asleep.
"He should awaken in short order." Lilith stated as she turned and departed. As she passed Benjen and Luwin both offered her thanks, she simply nodded to them but continued on.
Bran was placed on his back, and as Lilith said, a few moments later he awoke. The whole operation took about an hour.
The first thing Bran did when he woke up was wiggle his toes. His eyes lit up as he moved his legs about.
Within an hour he was up and walking, though he needed support from Maester Luwin. The boy wore a big smile from that point onward and spent almost all of his time on his feet. He was eternally grateful to Lilith and from that point onward graciously referred to her as a friend of the North and a great and kind woman.
While Bran recovered, far to the south, Robb Stark had just received a message in the night. A rider of the north who had ridden so hard his horse had nearly died.
Robb sat with his bannermen, his mother, uncle, granduncle, and his queen, Jeyne Westerling. He had retreated to Rivverun after losing most of his forces due to recent events. His marriage to Jeyne had lost him the support of the Freys whom he had promised to marry a daughter of. And his recent execution of Rickard Karstark had lost him the support of the Karstarks.
He was in a desperate position now. He'd won every battle, but he was losing this war.
"You claim to come from Winterfell?" Robb asked the rider.
"Yes, your grace. I was sent on behalf of your brother, Lord Bran." The rider responded, earning surprise from the collection of Lords.
"Bran is dead. Killed by the traitor, Theon Greyjoy." Robb responded.
"He's not dead your grace, I've seen him with my own two eyes. Two farmers boys, the Greyjoy had killed. Claiming them to be your brothers. The boys were hidden, by a wildling woman." The messenger informed him.
Catelyn burst into tears at that, hugging her brother Edmure, while Robb received a hug from his wife.
"Osha. I'll see her rewarded beyond her wildest dreams for this." Robb replied, as many of his surrounding advisers cheered their agreement.
"I thank you for this message. What other news from Winterfell?" Robb asked after a moment passed.
"Jon Snow has made an alliance with the Queen of the far North. He has led her armies in seizing the Far North, the Wall, the Gift, and the New Gift. He marched a force down to Winterfell and met with the Bolton's gathered under Ramsay Snow, and they took it back from the Greyjoys. Prince Theon is his prisoner now. He sent part of his army into the west to throw the Ironborn back into the sea. Lord Bran asked that I deliver this message to you, Jon Snow is ready to march his army south to aid you in defeating the Lannisters. He's sent most of them to Moat Cailin, and awaits your reply. He wishes for you to return there, join forces with him so that you may return south together and bring an end to this." The Messenger explained, earning dumbstruck looks from those around him.
"Who's the Queen in the far North?" Jeyne inquired, curiously, having never heard of such a person. Robb shook his head, not knowing.
"My brother took the Wall, and the Far North?" Robb repeated, earning a nod from the messenger.
"Yes your grace. His army comprises of these monstrous men. Strange twisted creatures, vicious and cunning. An army of wolves, and spiders, and giants. He even has dragons at his command. I've seen them, your grace. They say the Far-Northern Queen is a sorceress of great power. That she's been around for centuries and holds dominion over Fire, Shadow, and Winter. Jon Snow led the vanguard of her army to smash the Wildlings against the Wall. Afterwards he led them past it, and abolished the order of the Night's Watch, freeing all men of their oaths. He granted the Gift and the New Gift to the Wildlings that bent the knee to his new Queen." The Messenger informed him, causing the room to go dead silent.
"How many men does he have?" Robb asked pinning the messenger with a focused look.
"He sent thousands towards the western coast, and intended for three thousand to garrison in and around Winterfell, to keep it safe. The forces he sent to Moat Cailin number at least fifty thousand." The messenger answered, causing Robb's jaw to fall open, and many others followed in kind.
"Fifty thousand you say?" Robb repeated.
"How good is your eyesight?" The Blackfish inquired, not truly believing such a number could possibly be the truth.
"Good enough to know, my lord. Fifty thousand, at least. These vicious creatures, men, wildlings, spiders, wolves, big cats, giants, and more." The Messenger answered, taking in a deep breath as he finished.
"Is there something more?" Robb inquired, taking note of the messenger's actions.
"I don't know if it's the truth or not. Only a rumor I heard before I left, and perhaps I shouldn't say." He began.
"We'll you've already hit us with a gut punch, what could be worse?" The Blackfish inquired.
"Your brother, Jon Snow. His men… they were calling him the Dragonwolf. Aegon Targaryen. I heard a few whispers from some of the servants in Winterfell before I departed. They say that lord Eddard hid Rhaegar Targaryen's son as his bastard. That he's the true born son of the last dragon, and the wild wolf, Lyanna Stark. I don't know if any of it's true but… it's what I heard. As our king, I felt it only right to tell you." The messenger replied, looking uncomfortable.
Again dead silence, as many in the room shared glances with each other. Most eyes finally found their way to Catelyn Stark who's eyes were wide and filled with tears.
"Oh Ned…" She muttered in sorrow as she covered her mouth and let out a sob.
"You think this is true?" Robb stated as he rose to his feet, his focus entirely on his mother.
"It makes sense. Honorable Ned Stark. The only black mark on his name was that bastard boy." The Blackfish noted, as Catelyn let out another sob, but nodded through her tears.
"Robert Baratheon would have killed the babe had he known. He let Tywin Lannister murder Rhaegar's other children without so much as a slap on the wrist." Edmure stated as Robb stood in front of his mother.
"Ned loved his sister… he would stain his honor to keep her only child safe." Catelyn muttered, heartbroken and despondent. To think, the black mark she had held against her beloved husband for so long could quite possibly be a falsehood born of his desire to protect his blood, the thought made her sick. For so long she had hated the bastard boy, for so long she had held resentment towards him and her husband, and it could all be a lie.
"We need to go back. We'll have our army stationed here, and we'll slip back into the North. I need to speak with Jon, hear what he has to say." Robb stated after a moment.
"Jon Snow isn't the man you remember your grace. If he truly is this Aegon Targaryen, than he has put forth his claim for the Iron Throne. He's taken the Far North, the Wall, the Gift and the New Gift. Now he holds Winterfell. You march North, and you may lose your crown." The Blackfish noted for all to hear, making sure that those around understood the gravity of the situation.
"I never wanted to be king. The Northern Lords made me one, and I accepted, because it was my duty. They were tired of some southern ruler telling us what to do. Jon isn't a southerner. He's one of us. He was raised by my father, to be a Stark. Regardless of his blood. Regarding his possible conquests, what I do know is that he's reclaimed my home, and rescued my brothers. He has Winterfell. If he wanted to, he could claim it as his own, instead Bran remains lord of the castle, and Jon has not seized the North. At worse Bran has agreed to form an alliance with Jon. Regardless, Jon is defending the North, protecting it from dangers. He called me there, so we could unite and face the Lannisters together. The last time a Targaryen with dragons came to the North, king Torrhen bent the knee to save his people. I know Jon, but I don't know his queen, this sorceress." Robb explained to them all.
"If this is true, and he asks that you bend the knee to him, what will you do?" Catelyn asked.
"I'll do what is best for the North. No matter what the truth may be, he has our blood. If he has married a queen that makes him a king, no matter if this is true or if it isn't. I have to see it all for myself, and make my decision from that." Robb replied, earning a nod from Catelyn.
"Then what are your orders your grace?" Edmure asked.
"My army will garrison here at Riverrun to ensure the Riverlands are kept safe. I'll order Lord Bolton to take his forces from Harrenhal and meet us as we travel north. We'll need to slip past the twins and the Karstarks to avoid any issues. We'll send word to Jon, letting him know. Regardless of all of it, we need more men. Even if the messenger is wrong and Jon only has a fifth of that number, that's still ten thousand men. A force like that will restore us to full strength and give us what we need to return to our plans in the west." Robb informed his uncle and the room.
"Very well your grace. Who will remain behind to guard Riverrun?" The Blackfish inquired.
"Well… that depends on Lord Edmure." Robb responded as he turned his attention to his uncle who eyed him curiously.
"If all of this turns out to be true, I may be returning as a lord, not a king. If I bend the knee to this Northern Queen, it'll be for the good of the North. But that's a decision I must make for my people. I cannot make it for the Riverlords. I'll understand if you wish to remain here and protect the Riverlands, and I'll give you command of my forces to ensure you can keep it safe until I return. But I think its for the best that lord Edmure make this decision himself. I would welcome his company in my journey north, if he so desires." Robb explained, earning a look of contemplation from Edmure.
"You're right in that regard. If this turns out to be true, all of it, then we'll need to make the best decision for our people. I'll go north with you, meet with Jon Snow, see his army for myself. If this turns out to be true, if he truly is Rhaegar's son, if he truly has the army he says he does, if he does have dragons, well… I know what my decision will be." Edmure replied.
"Then we'll send a raven to Lord Bolton and begin moving. The sooner we join forces with Jon, the sooner we can march on King's Landing and get my sisters back." Robb commanded, earning a chorus of agreements from his advisers.
The room quickly emptied leaving Catelyn and Jeyne as the only other two in the room, with Robb.
"Do you think it's true… that he's really the son of Prince Rhaegar?" Jeyne inquired.
"I don't know. There was always a regal nature to my brother. Something distinctly southern about him. It reminded me of mother, in that way. I always thought his true mother was definitely a southern girl. But maybe it was the father who was the southerner? I wont know the truth until I speak with him." Robb replied, earning a nod from his wife.
"If Jon has captured the Wall and abolished the Night's Watch, your Uncle Benjen may be with him." Catelyn noted, causing Robb to smile.
"Only more reason to get back to him. After we meet with Jon mother, I want you to go home. Go back to Bran and Rickon. They'll need you now, more than ever." Robb said to his mother. She stared back for a moment but nodded in agreement.
Not long afterwards, Robb and his entourage departed from Riverrun. It would take time for him to maneuver around the Twins and avoid running into the back of the departing Karstark forces. Still though, Robb knew it had to be done, something in his gut told him he needed to go to Moat Cailin and speak with Jon.
He'd been dreaming about his brother a lot lately, could almost hear his voice in his sleep. Jeyne had even mentioned on occasion that he would awaken from a deep slumber and pace the room, growling and whispering to himself, and he wouldn't respond when she tried to speak to him, after a while he'd return to bed, and awaken without a single memory of what had happened.
Jeyne rationalized that he was sleepwalking, but Robb didn't think so. He never used to sleepwalk, and his constant dreams of wolves, and hunting, and Jon, concerned him.
He needed to speak with his brother, needed to know the truth. If the gods were good and the messenger was right, than Jon would have an army of fifty thousand waiting for him. And they would march south together, and reclaim their sisters.
Far off in the lands of Middle Earth, the White Council convened once again, this time joined by Círdan the shipwright, and Glorfindel both of whom had been summoned to participate due to the speculations surrounding the disappearance of the Balrog in Moria.
Saruman, Elrond, and Galadriel, sat with them, waiting patiently for Gandalf to arrive. Their eagerness to hear what he had to say after many long years away, and their apprehension towards what it could all mean, left them rather nervous.
Gandalf was quick to arrive knowing full well that the others would have gathered after hearing of his arrival. He was pleasently surprised to see that the council had expanded to include the wisdom of Círdan and Glorfindel, and offered the two a pleasant greeting.
He was quick to take his seat and allow the others to settle in around him.
"Nearly Eighteen years you've been traveling the world in search of answers, Gandalf. What news have you brought us?" Saruman asked, beginning the meeting.
"I can confirm without any shadow of doubt that the demon in the darkness of Moria has departed. I walked those dark halls and risked life and limb at the hands of the goblins who call those mines home, but I was able to confirm that it is gone." Gandalf informed them all, earning troubled looks from all of his surrounding council members.
"What of Mordor? Are there any signs that would indicate that the Dark Lord has reappeared?" Elrond inquired after a moment of silence.
"Oh yes." Gandalf said, his look troubled.
"Speak of it." Glorfindel urged him.
"My first destination was to Mordor, to gather what information I could from the heart of darkness. In the western portions of Mordor, the Plains of Gorgoroth, western Núrn, both remain quiet. The tribes of men still scatter across the plains, along with a few tribes of orcs that occasionally challenge them. Gondor still holds its forts in the west, and maintains a presence at the Black Gate. However, the orcs have set up a strong position at the foundation of Barad-Dûr. A large camp now surrounds the base of the Dark Lord's old fortress, and a powerful Black Númenórean now commands them. The Tribes of men as well as the orcs call this man, the Mouth of Sauron." Gandalf informed them, earning silence in reply.
Saruman's gaze hardened at hearing that and his eyes fell to the table in thought. Galadriel's eyes drifted off, as she was also deep in thought. Círdan, Glorfindel, and Elrond kept their focus on Gandalf, waiting for him to continue.
"There's more, unfortunately." Gandalf stated, drawing Galadriel's and Saruman's attention back to him.
"Go on." Saruman motioned.
"While in the western portions of Mordor our enemy's presence is light, in the east, they grow far more numerous. In my travels there I encountered swelling numbers of orcs, and uruks. I interrogated a handful of orcs while I was there and learned that our enemy has begun gathering the beasts of shadow to him. Trolls, wargs, caragors, graugs, all gathering in the east, amassing in large numbers. The further east I went, the greater their forces grew. I was forced to turn back when their numbers became to thick, and the risk of my capture became all to real. I can estimate that our enemy's numbers have grown to at least forty thousand in the east. I have no doubt they are amassing for an attack on the western portions of Mordor." Gandalf said to them, further darkening the mood.
"What of the Gondorians?" Elrond inquired.
"I informed the commander at the Black Gate upon my exit from those lands and I implored him to send word to Minas Tirith and call for aid. I anticipate a major attack on the Gondorian fortifications within Mordor." Gandalf responded.
"A wise course of action. If the Black Gate falls into the enemy's hands once more than the forces of evil will once again claim dominion over Mordor and will use it to shield their actions from our gaze in the coming years." Glorfindel noted.
"What of the Balrog? Or the Dark Lord? This Black Númenórean can not be the only one leading this dark host." Saruman pressed.
"I found no evidence of the Balrog in Mordor, nor did I take any notice to the presence of the Dark Lord. Aside from the title of his servant at the foundations of Barad-Dûr, there is no indication that Sauron himself has truly reappeared in Mordor." Gandalf replied to his question earning a calculated nod from the leader of the White Council.
"What of this Mouth of Sauron? Are we so certain that he is truly a Black Númenórean? We once believed something similar about the Lord of Angmar, and those beliefs led to the fall of the northern kingdom of men. Are we certain that this Mouth of Sauron is not one of the Nazgûl returned from their graves?" Glorfindel inquired.
"I cannot say for certain, lord Glorfindel. I was unable to draw close to their fortifications around Barad-Dûr's foundations. I sensed powerful evils there, but whether those belonged to this Mouth, or were remnants of Sauron's reign, I cannot say for certain." Gandalf answered.
"And what did you find in Moria, beyond the absence of the Balrog? Did you locate any clues that could indicate where it had gone to?" Saruman asked.
"I did. I interrogated several goblins within the mines and learned from them some interesting rumors." Gandalf responded sharing a glance with Galadriel as he did.
"Don't keep us in suspense my old friend. Tell us what these goblins had to say." Saruman commanded, eyeing Gandalf with curiosity.
"They informed me of two very interesting pieces of information. One was of a shadow that had entered the mountain. It spoke with the goblin king in Moria and then descended into the depths and approached the nameless darkness. Not long afterwards, it departed, but from what the goblins understood it was headed for Erebor to contact the Dragon Smaug." Gandalf began, his words again causing the council to shift in unease as they shared concerned glances with one another.
"And the second piece of information?" Galadriel implored him to continue.
"The second piece of information was something the goblins didn't understand. The Balrog stirred in the shadows and began to draw in goblins with mesmerizing flames. It gathered hundreds of them over the course of many months, perhaps building an army of sorts. Suddenly though, it began to slaughter the goblins it had gathered. Slaying hundreds of them. Not long afterwards, it vanished. It's my belief that it gathered them for some sort of ritual. Something that has allowed it to slip from our sight." Gandalf replied, finishing his report.
Silence surrounded the table as everyone digested what they had just heard. After several long moments, Saruman began to speak.
"These discoveries you've brought to us, are of great concern. Our enemy gathers it's strength and moves in the shadows unseen. I believe it is prudent that we investigate this further. I am not yet ready to believe that Sauron has returned, and I do not believe the evidence you have gathered points to that conclusion, but I do believe what you've found is a dangerous omen. An indication for what is to come. I believe the time has come for us all to commence our own investigations. To gather information in preparation for action. We must keep an eye on the situation in Mordor, if the hosts of the east come west to reclaim Mordor, we must be ready to observe their movements and see through their deceptions." Saruman stated, earning nods from his fellows.
"Then with your leave I will continue my investigation to prove or disprove Sauron's involvement." Gandalf stated, rising to his feet.
"How?" Círdan inquired.
"I will follow in the footsteps of the shadow that entered Moria and spoke to the Goblin King and the Balrog, and survived. The goblins believed it would head towards Erebor to engage the dragon Smaug in negotiations. I will follow it there, and try to pick up it's trail. I have a feeling that this shadow will help provide us with answers." Gandalf explained to them.
Saruman was silent for a moment before rising to his feet as well.
"I agree with this course of action, but offer my suggestion to no small deal of caution. We do not wish to stir the dragon from it's slumber, should the goblin rumors prove to be false. I would also suggest we all carry out our own investigations, so that next we convene, we can decide if, and what, course of action is necessary." Saruman stated in response.
While the others offered their agreement, Galadriel shared a look with Gandalf. Suspicion danced in her gaze, as she sensed that Gandalf had ulterior motives for looking after Erebor and the Dragon. Gandalf seemed to note her suspicion and offer a small smile in response.
Galadriel offered one in return, trusting in Gandalf's wisdom. If he had a plan in regards to the Lonely Mountain, than she would support him.
After all, no member of the White Council could deny that the power of evil was growing. A darkness was creeping back into the world. And she could only hope it was only as terrible as Sauron, and not something much worse.
-To Be continued-
Alright, here's the next chapter for you guys, nice and long one, hope everyone is having a good time. Hope they like the build-up of mystery and the coming wars. Hopefully starting next chapter we can actually begin the wars in the south. Anyway until later.