Chapter 6—The Wall.

"The heart can get really cold if all you've known is winter."

--Benjamin Alire Sáenz

11th Month. 296AC.

It had taken about two weeks and a couple of days to reach the wall which had impressed some of the Stark guards who believed it usually took up to three weeks there about to get to the wall.

Then again, Lord Stark was a monstrous rider, and to the Targaryen guards, never again, they moaned.

Never again.

Aegon rode next to his father as the wall appeared in their sight from the horizon as they slowed down their riding.

Now that Aegon saw it with his very own eyes, he understood why many would think it made of magic.

After all, who in their right minds would create a 700 feet tall wall of ice with their hands. In fact, it didn't look like something created by man.

It stood a bluish gray and the mist in the skies covered the top, making it look like it stretched to the heavens.

Gendry cursed silently behind him as he too stared at the building, as well as the other Targaryen retinue, even some Stark men at arms.

Riding towards it seemed very ominous and something seemed to chill in Aegon's very soul as he stared at it.

It looked like how he'd imagine the end of the world to be like.

They'd passed the Gift, deserted as it was but with a village by, called Mole's Town. Staring at Castle Black overhead though, a feeling of relief filled him as the thought of sleeping on an actual bed after weeks of sleeping uncomfortably.

Ser Arthur had also taken to continuing his squire-ship, training continuously, and cutting his sleeping hours. He didn't want to see his own face right now. He probably looked like odd.

He turned to his father next to him, who kept looking at the wall contemplatively.

"What do you see father?"

Aegon spoke up and Rhaegar hummed, his purple eyes shining bright as he seemed to drink in the wall.

"You know, when people hear of the wall, or the Night's Watch, they sneer about it being useless, with it's only aim being to stop the Wildlings from crossing over. But, what I see now, is not just some wall of ice, I see a wall built in unity and purpose, against what, I know not, but perhaps if everyone could see this, then their eyes would turn to the north finally, as it should."

Aegon looked back at the wall. Looking desolate and yet beautiful in a grim way, sort of like Stark's attitude. Perhaps the rumors of it being built by Brandon the builder wasn't as unbelievable as once thought.

Aegon shivers as they got to the gates and to his incredulity, he realized it got even colder than a moment ago.

How that was even possible!

"Who goes there!!"

A loud and gruff voice shouted from above, and Lord Stark was the one who spoke up.

"I am Lord Stark of Winterfell, Eddard Stark, and with me is the King of Westeros, Rhaegar Targaryen. We require passage into Castle Black."

It was quiet for a second before the giant doors groaned almost gratingly, and it opened.

Riding through, he saw several black brothers garbed in black, some watching curiously as they passed. Some looked as normal as could be while some looked like the crooks that they were.

The Wall was manned by over 4000 men from what Lord Stark had told his father, spread across 12 out of 19 castles. The numbers had been dwindling previously, that is, until The War of The Mad King and it began to increase. Father had also taken quite the interest in them over the last 5 years, and this visit had been planned for sometime now to see the monument.

A man stood a bit further away as he watched them with a stern gaze. Old, but he cut a rather imposing figure with the raven on his broad shoulders. He had lost most of his hair save for his shaggy grey-white beard.

Jeor Mormont.

997th Lord Commander of the watch and father of the Late Jorah Mormont. A man who had sold his people into slavery and then sentenced to death by Lord Stark.

The old man had abdicated his seat to his sister and joined the Watch as penance for his son's doing and had quickly risen as a capable fighter and leader.

Next to him, another Black brother stood tall. Rather young looking and gaunt. He had sharp features and blue-grey eyes with dark brown hair. He wore rich black velvet, high leather boots, a silver buckle on his wide belt, with a heavy silver chain.

He'd learnt enough about the Night's Watch leadership to guess that this was Benjen Stark, first ranger and possible successor of Jeor Mormont. He definitely had the Stark look to him.

As everyone dismounted, The king and Lord Stark moved towards the waiting party, the retinue following behind.

"King Rhaegar, Lord Stark, welcome to Castle Black."

"Thank you for having me, Lord Commander."

The Lord Commander opened his mouth to speak when he was rudely interrupted.

"Corn! Corn!"

The raven on his shoulder tilted it's head slightly, opening it's mouth again.

"Corn!"

Aegon smirked while Robb tried to disguise his chuckle as a cough.

Rhaegar smiled softly while the Lord Commander glared at the raven and slapped it off his shoulder, making it caw and fly off.

"Ah, pardon me. Stupid, dumb bird. Please, this way."

Aegon exchanged a look of amusement with Robb as they followed behind their respective fathers, still in awe with the Wall so close to them that it looked like a thing out of the history books.

As they entered the castle, Aegon let out a small breath of relief. Perhaps his Dornish blood wasn't doing all that well for him.

Later that evening after a much needed bath and change of clothes, Rhaegar called upon his son and together, they were directed to the Maester's chambers. He had been too old to stand outside waiting for them and so the Lord Commander had left him be in his chambers located in a stout wooden keep beneath the rookery.

Arthur followed behind both, as well as Gendry. They finally got to a door and knocked.

Without needing to wait long, the door opened and they were met with a rather unfortunate looking young man who had a red face with many boils and a large cyst on his neck. He was auburn haired with watery blue eyes and his eyes widened when he saw just who stood in front of him.

"M-my, I mean your grace. Please, come in."

He shook slightly, much to Gendry's amusement as they walked into the small study of the Maester.

Well clustered in a nice way, and the man sat on a rather comfortable chair.

Aegon finally saw one of his oldest relatives for the first time.

He was bald, wrinkled, and shrunken. His blind eyes were clouded and milk white and he was quite thin. Around his neck was his maester's chain, which included links of gold, iron, lead, silver, tin, and other metals. A blackthorn cane rested near his chair and he paused when they entered.

"Maester. The king of Westeros is here with the Prince."

Aemon Targaryen perked up as soon as he heard their names and smiled.

"Thank you, Chett. You may excuse us. It is time I reconnected with my kinsmen once more."

He shooed the man away, and Rhaegar have Gendry and Arthur a nod to guard the door as they too excused the Targaryens.

And then it was three.

"I had thought none of my kin would ever venture to the North in my lifetime."

He spoke softly and Aegon listened.

"How could I not? A great uncle you have been to me, with ideas that helped me stay true to the path I was born for."

Rhaegar said as he walked around the desk, crouching next to Aemon and holding his hand.

Aemon raised his other to Rhaegar's face, as if trying to memorize how he looked.

"And your son? He is here too?"

Aegon cleared his throat, stepping forward as his father moved away and gave him space.

"I am here, great uncle."

Aemon smiled as he traced Aegon's face before nodding satisfyingly.

"I knew an Aegon too. My beloved brother. We affectionately called him Egg."

Aegon smiled at that.

"Rhaenys calls me that sometimes."

"A worthy name for the next king of Westeros. Please, sit."

"How have you been, Aemon?"

Rhaegar asked as they settled down and the old dragon sighed.

"As well as can be, Rhaegar. The wall is not as bad as it used to anymore. During your father's time, I have to admit, only 7 castles were being manned, compared to the 12 of today."

Rhaegar frowned, not liking the numbers.

"That's still 7 more."

Aemon waved off his concerns.

"It is better than previously, Rhaegar. You should be proud of what your reign has brought. But perhaps, discussing with the Lord Commander should put your mind at ease. He should also be able to tell you what more is needed from the realm."

Rhaegar nods.

"And the Wildlings? Anything strange going on with them?"

"Not that I've heard. Is there a reason you ask, dear boy?"

Aegon turned to his father, a confused look on his face while Rhaegar's eyes became slightly clouded before he shook his head, sighing.

"Perhaps not, Aemon. Perhaps not."

Aemon hums.

"A dragon should never ignore their feelings, Rhaegar. Perhaps… yes, perhaps there might be something you are indeed getting at. For now though, the Wildlings act as Wildlings do. They attack the black brothers and try to get through the wall. Sometimes they do, and we have to inform the lords of the North in order for them to shore up their defenses."

"And you Aemon… how are you?"

Aemon paused, before a smile appeared on his face.

"I am as well as a 98 name day old man can be. I am… content."

Rhaegar smiled warmly at the man, while Aegon watched the scene quietly, a side smile on his face.

Aemon Targaryen had not been in the presence of any family members for decades now. This must be very nice for him. Rhaegar did write to him occasionally, either for advice or to ask on his health, but this was different. This was better.

And so, they spent the rest of their evening talking to the Maester of Castle Black and remembering family, both alive and dead.

His dreams plagued him that night.

Like never happened before, in his slumber, Aegon twisted and turned, feeling unrest.

He saw blue glowing eyes in wispy white smoke. He saw a three eyed crow flapping it's wings almost panicky. He saw green fire explode into the skies. And then he saw the silhouette of a person raising a sword which then glowed golden and bright.

And then he woke up with a startled gasp when he felt something gnarly wrap around his neck.

Looking around while already diving for his sword.

He was alone in his dimly lit room. His half buttoned shirt clung to his body from sweating and his breathing was harsh.

Dropping his sword rather harshly, he walked back to his bed, sitting down while brushing his hands through his hair and rubbing his eyes.

That dream had felt so real. He didn't know why, but there had just been something about it.

A shaky laugh escaped his lips.

Perhaps the wall, or the North in general was getting to him. For however would he explain away his crazy dreams?

Dragon-dreams was a thing of the past in his family. As a child, he used to believe his father had them, but the man never brought it up and he moved on.

This place though… it was playing on his emotions.

Looking out the window, the skies were slowly brightening up.

He grabbed his sword and walked out of his room. Gendry stood there at alert, having exchanged with some guards a little earlier.

The kingsguard member looked at his friend.

"You look horrible."

Aegon snorts, patting Gendry's shoulder.

"Let's spar. I could use the distraction my friend."

Aegon sat in the room, next to his father, watching as Lord Stark, his son, the Lord Commander, First ranger and the Aemon Targaryen settled down across a round table.

"Thank you for meeting. It has been a long time since a Targaryen king came North, or even to the wall. I intended to rectify that over the years and here we are. It is an honor to be here."

Rhaegar nodded respectfully at the Lord Commander who nodded back, a pleased look on his face.

"The Watch has been an independent institution for over thousands of years, and it is our duty to ensure they continue to carry out their duties correctly. Please friends, I came here to gather as much information as I can. Tell me your pleas."

And just like that, the Lord Commander began the hours long session about everything the Watch had been through for decades now.

Rhaegar had scoured the multitude of old and priceless times the library had to offer. Tomes he knew the citadel would hunger over if they could get their hands on them.

A pity he wouldn't be able to access them in Kingslanding.

Jeor Mormont spoke about needing more men to man the other 7 castles. He talked about other kingdoms having forgotten the dues they owed the Watch. He talked and debated about needing more volunteers over criminals.

They spoke some more on the Wildlings, estimated numbers of them out there as well as the wall itself.

They discussed with Lord Stark about the lords of the North as well, and the difficulties most had during wildling attacks, like Last Hearth.

It was a learning experience for Robb Stark who suddenly realized the kind of work it took to be a warden. The affairs one had to be involved in, even so far off from the seat of his family.

It was eye opening in a way, for him. His lessons had always come from Maester Luwin in a learning sitting. This had more or less made him wary and cautious about taking over from his father when the time came.

Hopefully it was a long way from now, and he'd have the time to learn under his father too.

As for Aegon, he suddenly understood why his father was interested in the Night's Watch. Hearing Jeor Mormont admit he had no idea the number of wildlings but believed they numbered tens of thousands was a wake up call to the dangers they faced if they found a way past the wall. The Black brothers only numbered a little over 4000. What could they do against such alarming numbers?

The South really was uninformed about this part of the world.

A scary thing to think about, as they only care about politics, backstabbing and who gets to rise higher than their peers.

Aegon though was truly happy that their stay in castle black was over and done with, and soon enough he'd be heading back to the south. He wouldn't deny that he'd missed having the hot sun on his skin, and he was tired of the cold the North brought.

It was a beautiful place, no doubt about that. But a place he could never live in.

It made him respect the people of the North even more. A headstrong and hearty lot, he called them.

"I was wondering when you'd approach me again, Rhaegar."

Aemon sighed patiently as the King of Westeros sat down opposite him, a small grim look on his face.

"I have been dreaming again."

"They stopped all those years ago, and now they're back?"

Rhaegar hummed.

"Perhaps, the mistakes I almost committed all those years ago still haunt me till this day, but my dreams had stopped plaguing me. Having my son and daughter was good enough for me. Seeing them killed so violently… and Elia…"

A mournful look appeared on the Silver King's face as he remembered the nightmare he had had once been plagued by before Harrenhal happened.

His family, dead.

Even to this day, he had no idea which decisions he made led them there. All he knew was that his family was important to him, and he would never have been able to survive had they died that… Horrifically.

"Dragon-dreams. A very confusing thing. But when you have them, they stay part of you, no matter what. It is what happened with our ancestors. Daenys. In fact, hers was worse from what I once read. A dreamer through and through. What did you see again?"

"I saw… the north. Cold and desolate as it was. I saw the dead walking. I saw dragons fly once more. I saw a sword. I saw a someone burning in fire. I saw carnage and I saw war. I saw death and I saw myself. I walked and walked the cold lands for what felt like eternity, but no sign of life. It was cold, and I only saw darkness."

Rhaegar finished with an haunted look in his eyes and Aemon clasped his hands together in thought.

"And this was about five years ago?"

"Indeed. I try to think it my imagination sometimes. And I've never had the dream again, but…"

"But Daenys the dreamer had a dream once and it also didn't come to pass immediately. Rhaegar, have you heard the story of the Great Other?"

Rhaegar frowned, leaning forward.

"I have heard stories. About a being who is the enemy of Rhllor, the red god. Also something to do with the myth of the white walkers."

Aemon nods.

"From what I once read, the Great Other is known as the Lord of darkness. The god of night and terror. The opposite of Rhllor who is known as the Lord of light. It is why his followers say 'for the night is dark and full of terrors' because the great other is the enemy of Rhllor. Darkness, cold and death are said to be the great other's servants. And you say you saw deaths, cold lands and darkness."

"You believe I saw something pertaining to the great other?"

"I know not what you saw, dear boy. But dreams are not to be taken lightly. The great other was said to have followers called 'other' who were the cause of the Long Night. You have always been a believer of prophecies, dreams and magic of the old world. Your dreams can be interpreted a thousand ways. It is why I warned you all those years ago about the prophecy, and letting it come to pass on its own. If you had not had the dream that horrified you so much, I think you know what the outcome would have been."

Rhaegar looked away. A flash of shame passing through him.

"But that is the past. This is the present. Your dream might yet come to pass, though I sorely hope it doesn't. Perhaps in the next few years, something might come up. But I will keep an eye out for anything happening here. If the North is where this problem begins, then it is to the North that we shall watch."

Rhaegar breathed out a sigh of relief, finally resting his back against the chair.

"And your children?"

"My children?"

"Do they have this sight you seem to have?"

Rhaegar shook his head.

"Thankfully not. Rhaenys would have come to me if she did. A father's daughter through and through."

Rhaegar smiled fondly at the memories of his beloved little girl.

"And Aegon?"

"Aegon… he is a man of his own. He reminds me of myself sometimes and yet, we differ so much in attitude and character that it gives me a pause. He will come to me if he has such a dream. When though, I know not."

Aemon sighs with a smile.

"Ahh… the troubles of youth. A soliloquy to behold."

The two Targaryens of different generations basked in the comfortable silence of the room, both thinking on family and all that it entailed.

Arthur Dayne walked towards his destination with one thing in mind and one purpose.

Answers.

It was quite early in the morning, and preparations to head back to Winterfell was underway.

He didn't really know everything, but Rhaegar's need to be at the wall had been sated for the time being.

And now, he was free to talk to someone he'd been watching for weeks on end, waiting for the time they wouldn't be interrupted or seen by anyone else.

Getting to his destination, he knocked on the door, and a voice spoke on the other end.

"Enter."

The room was small, scanty but it also had the basic necessities for a solar.

A desk, chairs and a small fireplace.

"I had wondered when you would approach me, Ser Arthur."

Lord Stark watched the purple eyed man who without asking for permission, sat down opposite him. He wasn't surprised by the obvious lack of respect.

But he was cautious of the man. Said to be the greatest swordsman Westeros had to offer.

"Lord Stark."

"Ser Arthur."

"You lied to me."

Arthur got straight to the point.

"I never lied to you, Ser."

"You promised to take care of Lyarra. Love her, care for her, hold her in high esteem regardless of her bastardy, seeing as you weren't going to legitimize her out of fear for your wife."

"Out of respect for her."

Ned glared right back at the sword of the morning who scoffed.

"Respect? Of course, let us agree on that. Your wife was raised to abhor bastards and see them as creatures of lust. You might have curbed her tongue when it came to my niece, you might have tried to protect her from those who would talk bad of her, hells you might have cared for her as much as your dead heart could. But you never held her in high esteem."

"I did as much as I could—"

"But it wasn't enough to me!"

Arthur barked out, slamming his fist on the table.

It was tense for a few seconds, Ned staring stiffly at the other man who sighed, breathing through his nose.

"You know, I never liked you."

"I already knew that."

"I didn't think you deserved my sister. I felt that she deserved someone better. A Lord. Someone who would give her a title and make her as happy as she ever could. But you apparently made her happy. And then you left her for your brother's betrothed. And I know it was your father's last wish. No need to tell me any other thing. But when you took my niece away from Dorne and the family prepared to raise her, you promised. You promised to love her. Love her like my sister never could."

He whispered almost brokenly, and Ned closed his eyes shameful, bowing his head a bit.

"I tried to."

Arthur scoffed.

"Not enough, Lord Stark. My niece, writing to me in the hopes that I would invite her to King's Landing to become a maid, because she saw no other future for herself is unacceptable!"

Ned's head snapped up in horrified surprise.

"I never told her she'd ever need to leave Winterfell. I never made it look like Winterfell wasn't her home."

Arthur have him an almost sorry look.

"You might not have. But perhaps there were other people who could have."

Ned knew Arthur was talking about his wife.

Try as he might, he couldn't find it in himself to disagree or agree.

"I tried my best. To give her the home she wanted. She was loved by her siblings. My eldest sees her as his own twin. My youngest daughter loves her more than anything in this world."

"But did you show her any of this love?"

Arthur glared at the sad looking man whose shoulders hunched a bit.

"Lord Stark. A daughter should not have to beg her father for a relationship."

Ned closed his eyes as phantom pain filled his heart in that very moment.

A daughter should not have to beg her father for a relationship.

The struggles of making his wife happy and his daughter happy had clashed so badly that making one happy over the other seemed bad.

But Catelyn was and always would be his wife. The mother of 5 of his children. He could never humiliate her more than he already had.

But… he could still make it up to his beloved daughter.

Before it was too late.

He looked back up at Arthur who watched him closely.

"Ser Arthur, tell me what you want."

And that's it!

The dreaded talk with Arthur and Ned happened. I battled with the talk between Elia and Arthur but chose Arthur because he was Ashara's brother. Who else had more right to talk or demand of family from Lord Stark.

The dragon dreams was also something that i wanted to bring into the story as well, especially being at the wall where everything might end up taking place.

Also, the reason for the canon divergence and Roberts rebellion not happening is more or less because of what Rhaegar saw, but he saw other things too. I couldn't let such magical dreams go to waste. Daenys' dream took years for it to come to past, why not Rhaegar's?

Hope you liked this chapter, please leave comments. Have a nice day!