Aenar felt the rush of cold winds the moment he'd crossed The Neck. The greenery was soon replaced by the whiteness of snow and the gentle winds had turned cutting and harsh. Aenar had sent a raven to Winterfell before he had flown to Harrenhal with his brother and his army, so he was not surprised to find that the Lords of Nobility of the North were present with their King at the centre of the Northern Power, Winterfell.
Winterfell was a massive castle complex that spanned several acres and was encircled by two massive granite walls. At the gates of it stood Torrhen Stark, King in The North.
Torrhen Stark was a grim man, tall and muscular with chestnut hair and dark grey eyes. The man standing beside him was more or less the same. The difference was that the man beside him was leaner and, unlike his King, wore no crown.
Aenar landed before the gathered Lords and their King and dismounted his dragon, who was eyeing them all as if challenging them to attack.
"I request Guest Rights!" the request sounded less like a request and more like a demand.
King Torrhen shared a look with the bristled man beside him and the men gathered behind him. He then made a motion and the Lords parted way for a young girl to rush forward with a tray of bread and salt. Aenar took a bite of the bread, chewed and swallowed, before taking a pinch of salt.
"You wished to discuss something with us" Torrhen Stark stated calmly.
"You may wish to sit down for this. All of you" Aenar answered.
As if it were possible, Winterfell seemed even bigger from the inside. Upon entering Aenar was led to the Great Hall. It was made of grey stone and had wide doors made of oak and iron, which opened into the castle yard, and a rear exit that led to a dim-lit gallery. King Torrhen Stark sat on his throne atop a raised platform, the walls around him adorned with banners of his family. The throne was made of stone, its massive arms decorated with the carved heads of snarling direwolves. Beside him stood the lean man from before, his bastard brother Brandon Snow. Aenar stood at the centre of the room, the other Lords of the North sitting in the trestle rows of benches that were arranged around him.
"Speak what it is you wished to speak of" the King in the North demanded.
"You must first understand, King Torrhen, why my brother seeks to unify the Seven Kingdoms" Aenar began, only to be interrupted by one of Torrhen Stark's sons, another Brandon.
"It is obvious why he wishes to do so" the young man said snarling, "he is a power-hungry fool!"
Murmurs of agreement rose amongst the people, only to be squashed when Torrhen Stark raised a hand.
Aenar though chuckled.
"My brother can be a fool from time to time" he admits, much to the amusement and shock of many, "but he is not power hungry, Prince Brandon, my Lords" Aenar cleared his throat, draining the emotions from his face.
"The tale of Daenys the Dreamer is known to all of you I am assuming."
All shook their head in affirmative.
"Another such prophecy has been bestowed upon my sister Rhaenys and myself, of a threat much larger than the Doom of Valyria itself!"
"What can be worse than that?" Lord Bolton questioned, his tone cool and sharp like the knives he used for flaying.
"How about the reason the Wall further North exists? Because you all know and so do I, the Wall was not built to keep Wildlings away."
The silence in the room was anything but welcoming or kind. But they remained silent and allowed Aenar to speak.
"My sister saw in her dreams of a great darkness coming down from far North that envelops everything with life! And I saw the things in that darkness! I saw the pale blue ice of the things that manipulates death like it is its bitch, I stared into those chips of ice and saw nothing but utter destruction of this living world! My sister told my brother of this and my brother took it upon himself to unite the realm that is broken and rally it to fight the battle when it arrives!"
Murmurs began once more, only to be silenced by King Torrhen.
"And I am supposed to believe you? Because you say you and your sister saw the thing?" the King asked.
"You may choose to disbelieve me, that is up to you to decide. But you know I am right, all of you do" Aenar turned around to face all the present Lords of the North. "The North Remembers, does it not? My words hit something in your core, the way I described the danger to come, it struck something deep inside you has it not?"
Nobody spoke, but looks were exchanged amongst the people.
"People South would call me and my siblings mad for believing in dreams and whatnot. But not you. No, you all know the truth and you all know I speak it!"
"Perhaps we might sit for dinner before we discuss this any further" Lord Umber spoke.
The King was inclined to agree.
Aenar was invited to dine with the King and his family in personal quarters. Without the crown on his head, Torrhen Stark looked much younger and less sombre. His brother, Brandon Snow was present as well, still staring at Aenar with suspicion. Torrhen's sons Brandon, Rickon and Rodrik were present as well, as was his only daughter Sarra. Brandon was the oldest, a boy no more. He had his father's hair but possibly his mother's eyes. Rickon was the same age as Aenar, a spitting image of his father. Sarra was a year younger, taken more after her mother most likely, as had Rodrik, who was a few months younger than Sarra.
For a while nobody spoke, enjoying the meal and only focusing on it.
Then Sarra Stark spoke and earned a reproachful look from her father.
"They say you went to Valyria" the girl stated, shrinking immediately after.
Aenar smiled.
"It was more Cannibal took me to Valyria than I going there of my own free will" Aenar answered.
"The Cannibal was a wild dragon, right? Infamous for eating smaller dragons?" asked Rodrik Stark.
"He has thankfully outgrown that habit" Aenar chuckled.
"Why didn't you come back immediately if you didn't want to go?" Rickon asked.
"Cannibal wouldn't allow it. Any ship I tried to hire he'd threaten to burn. So I stuck around. It did me good. I found many things there that have helped me earn a fortune, made connections with the Essosi."
"What did you see?" Brandon Stark asked.
"The thing I described in the Great Hall."
"You saw the Great Other in Valyria?" Brandon Snow questioned sceptically.
"No. I had my vision there underneath a dead Weirwood Tree."
Cutleries dropped from King Torrhen's hands, his eyes stuck to Aenar in disbelief.
"There is a Weirwood Tree in Valyria?" he asked in disbelief.
"Was, King Torrhen. The tree is long dead, only the bark of it remains. It was black as dragonglass, its branches looked more like jagged weapons. And its face, gods, it looked like it crawled out from the hells itself!"
Aenar sighed.
"And I also saw things that even Dragons can't kill."
Brandon Stark's eyes hardened.
"You say you know all of this… How do you expect us to believe that you know it? Have seen the Great Other of all things?" Torrhen asked.
"I know it, just like I know that the thirteenth Lord Commander of the Night's Watch, whose identity had been entirely eradicated from history, was a Stark of Winterfell by the name of Brandon. In the same way, I know that he had one son with the Night's Queen, a servant of the Great Other, who had survived the sacrifices and was brought back to Winterfell as Brandon's brother's bastard. The same brother who was the King of Winter at that time. I know what blood you have running in your veins, King Torrhen."
All of the Starks (legitimate and illegitimate) stood in unison.
"How?" Torrhen demanded.
"I didn't only see the Great Other. I saw everything."
Aenar put his knife and fork down, picking up his glass of ale to clear his throat.
"Are you aware of the last hero? Who fought against the Others when the Long Night last came?"
They all nodded.
"I have seen a glimpse of the future, King Torrhen. I have seen a Stark born from your bloodline standing against the forces of darkness. But he was not alone. He was only a sword. The fire to that sword was a girl born from my brother's bloodline. She rode one dragon but commanded three. These two lead a unified Westeros against the darkness but even then they are not able to defeat the Darkness."
King Torrhen swallowed.
"If they are not able to defeat what's to come, then what is the point of this Conquest?" Brandon Snow demanded to know. "Your brother wishes to unify Westeros, but you say that is not enough."
"Men are proud things, terribly proud things. As time goes on, greed overtakes purpose. I have seen a unified Westeros, but I have also seen it begin to crack from the inside. When the darkness arrives, the unity has been fractured and infights have destroyed our numbers. I work to make sure that does not happen."
"But you are only one man. You won't be around when the darkness comes" Torrhen pointed out.
"I will not. But I am hoping the stones I set, the foundations I build, will be worked on and Westeros stands truly united against the coming darkness."
Aenar stood, dabbing at his mouth with a piece of cloth.
"The journey has taken much of my strength. I must retire for the night, King Torrhen. I thank you for the hospitality you have shown me. We may discuss what decision you choose to take on the morrow."
Aenar bowed (as was the respect expected of a King) and walked away to the chambers he was assigned to.
Torrhen Stark's decision was swift, and the rest of the North agreed with him. None of them had slept easy the previous night, barring Aenar who slept like a rock.
Torrhen bent the knee and gave up his crown of iron to Aenar, pledging his loyalties to Aegon Targaryen, the First of His Name, King of All Westeros, and Shield of His People.
Aenar wrote a letter to Lord Tully as his brother had wanted him to before he flew not to join his family but to the Iron Islands, where chaos had begun to rear its ugly head.
With House Hoare vanquished, the Iron Islanders sought to elect a new King, ignoring King Aegon's wishes for House Tully to be their new overlords. Many rose to claim the seat from various parts of the Islands. But the sight of Aenar and Cannibal sucked the fight out of these men.
Aenar was not his brother. He was not merciful to those that crossed him, the Dothraki were prime examples of such. So for the Iron Islanders to go against the wishes of his brother the King, he saw no reason to accept bent knees.
All of the Iron Islands burned like Harrenhal had, every castle melted from Cannibal's flames, and every living person burned and turned to ash. Anyone who tried to save themselves by jumping into the sea found themselves in boiling water thanks to Cannibal's flames.
Aenar made certain that the whole of the Iron Island burned before he made his trip to rejoin his siblings.