Notes
Very AU
"Some references to the works of J.R.R. Tolkien.
Ygritte is Tormund's niece in this story
In this story, Ygritte, Tormund, Dalla, and Val are relatives and the last descendants of an ancient noble house that was believed to be extinct.
At this point in the story, the others have not yet awakened.
This is a story based on the Game of Thrones books and TV series, but be warned, it's a very AU (Alternate Universe) story. If you're someone who doesn't enjoy a story that deviates a lot from canon, where certain characters may act out of character, or if you're not a fan of romance with a good amount of fluff, and a story that ultimately has a happy ending, then this may not be the right story for you.
Chapter 13
Beyond the wall 290 AC Mance Ryder
Beyond the wall 290 AC Mance Ryder
Three weeks had passed since the fateful encounter with the strange woman and her companion, and Lord of Bones, along with the survivors, found themselves gathered in the presence of Mance Rayder, the fearless King-Beyond-the-Wall. The tale of the confrontation between Lord of Bones' warriors and the enigmatic duo had already begun to spread among the Free Folk, and names like the White-haired witch or the lady of fire were starting to circulate.
The meeting took place in the heart of Mance's stronghold, a sprawling camp nestled amidst the icy wilderness beyond the Wall. The tent where they convened was adorned with furs and trophies, showcasing the proud heritage of the Free Folk and creating an atmosphere both rugged and mystical. The chiefs of the Free Folk, influential leaders from various clans, had been summoned to this gathering, each carrying a mix of uncertainty and skepticism.
As Lord of Bones and the survivors began to recount their harrowing experience, including the message that the mysterious woman sent stating that neither she nor her companion were enemies of the Free Folk but would respond with force if attacked, Mance Rayder, seated at the head of a long wooden table, leaned forward, his piercing blue eyes fixed on their every word. The flickering fire cast dancing shadows across the room, heightening the intensity of the moment. The other chiefs, including Harma Dogshead, watched Lord of Bones closely, their eyes filled with suspicion.
"So tell me, Lord of Bones," Mance said, his voice carrying an air of authority that commanded the attention of all those present. "What did this woman look like?"
Lord of Bones shifted uncomfortably in his seat, his weathered face etched with the memories of that fateful encounter. "She had hair as white as snow, and her eyes, they were like two burning embers. But what struck me the most was her mastery of fire. She commanded the flames with a skill I had never witnessed before. It was as if she wielded the very essence of fire itself."
"And the swords," interjected one of the surviving boys, the same boy who had been interrogated by the mysterious woman. "The swords she wielded, they were like no other. They gleamed with a brilliance that defied explanation, and our weapons were easily destroyed."
Mance's eyes narrowed, a hint of recognition flickering within them. "Mastery of fire and magic swords," he murmured, his voice barely above a whisper. He thought, "A power associated with ancient tales of a powerful civilization in distant lands across the narrow sea."
Harma Dogshead, known for her fierce demeanor and unyielding skepticism, spoke up with a voice laced with doubt. "Are we to believe this tale, Lord of Bones? Are we to trust the words of a man who has long harbored resentment towards our cause?" Her words carried a hint of animosity, a reminder of the past conflicts between her and Lord of Bones.
Lord of Bones bristled at the challenge, his eyes narrowing in defiance. The tension between them was palpable, the residue of their previous clashes still lingering in the air. "My words are true," he retorted, his voice filled with conviction. "I have no reason to lie. The woman we encountered possessed a power beyond our understanding, and her weapons were unlike anything we have ever seen. They were imbued with ancient enchantments, capable of shattering our own."
The room fell silent as the chiefs of the Free Folk observed the heated exchange between Harma Dogshead and Lord of Bones. Sensing the tension, Mance rose from his seat, commanding attention and respect. His gaze shifted from Lord of Bones to Harma Dogshead.
"I understand your doubts, Harma. Lord of Bones and his warriors have had their differences with us in the past. But let us not dismiss their words so quickly. The power this woman wielded cannot be easily dismissed as mere fabrication."
Walking towards a corner of the tent, Mance reached for an old lute, its strings worn with age and countless tales. As he returned to his seat, the chiefs fell silent, their gazes fixed upon him, curious as to what he would share. Plucking the strings of the lute, Mance began to sing, his voice rich and resonant, carrying the weight of ancient stories. The melody filled the air, weaving a spell that transported them to distant lands and forgotten times.
🎶 In ages past, a tale was told,
Of distant lands and legends bold.
The First Men heard whispers on the wind,
Of two great powers locked in a conflict they couldn't rescind. 🎶
🎶 Come gather 'round, both young and old,
To hear the story that has been foretold.
Of the Lords of Air and Fire, mighty and true,
And the Builders of Pyramids, whose power grew. 🎶
🎶 From the realm of air, a force took flight,
With wings of fire, shining bright.
Their weapons, imbued with ancient spells,
They conquered lands and cast their spells. 🎶
🎶 Come gather 'round, both young and old,
To hear the story that has been foretold.
Of the Lords of Air and Fire, mighty and true,
And the Builders of Pyramids, whose power grew. 🎶
🎶 The Builders of Pyramids, their might untold,
With secrets ancient, their empires bold.
They shaped the world with their stone and sand,
A kingdom grand, built by their hand. 🎶
🎶 Come gather 'round, both young and old,
To hear the story that has been foretold.
Of the Lords of Air and Fire, mighty and true,
And the Builders of Pyramids, whose power grew. 🎶
🎶 The clash of powers, a battle ensued,
Across distant lands, their conflict pursued.
The echoes of their strife still remain,
In tales passed down, a legacy that won't wane. 🎶
🎶 Come gather 'round, both young and old,
To hear the story that has been foretold.
Of the Lords of Air and Fire, mighty and true,
And the Builders of Pyramids, whose power grew. 🎶
As the haunting melody of Mance's song filled the air, Dalla, his wife, couldn't help but gasp, feeling a deep sense of unease wash over her. The combination of Lord of Bones' account, the survivor's tale, and Mance's rendition of the old folk tale resonated within her, like the interlocking pieces of a long-forgotten puzzle falling into place.
Memories of a conversation with Mance resurfaced in Dalla's mind, where he had shared whispers that had reached him from the south of the Wall. They spoke of a once-mighty civilization, an empire of incredible power that had met its demise centuries ago. But now, rumors swirled of its unexpected resurgence in the distant east, beyond the narrow sea. According to Mance's accounts, its leaders, whom he referred to as the "Lords of Air and Flame," were renowned for their extraordinary ability to mount and control dragons, bestowing upon them dominion over the skies and command over fire.
In her mind, the stories passed down by her grandmother resurfaced, tales of ancient powers from the eastern lands and the cataclysmic war waged between two mighty empires echoed through her memories. And now, as she listened to Mance's song, the fragments of ancient lore started to interweave, forming a clearer picture.
Could it be that the mysterious woman, with her mastery of fire and the enchanted weapons she wielded, belonged to that formidable civilization from the east? The implications sent a chill down Dalla's spine.
"Is she one of the ones you called the Lords of Air and Flame?" she nervously asked her husband, who gazed at her intently and responded with solemnity, "Yes, based on Lord of Bones' description, she is one of them."
After answering her, Mance Rayder turned his attention to the others present, but specifically to Lord of Bones. "I believe your tale, Lord of Bones," he stated, pausing to observe that all eyes were upon him, and continued, "You and your companions are alive because she willed it so."
Mance Rayder then embarked on a dedicated effort to enlighten the leaders of the Free Folk about Valyria and the news that had reached him from the south of the Wall regarding the resurgence of that mighty empire. Drawing from his previous conversations with Maester Aemon during his time in the Night's Watch, he delved into the rich history of ancient Valyria, the power of its dragons, and the intricacies of its magic. He explained how Lord of Bones' description of the mysterious woman, her mastery of fire, and her enchanted weapons aligned with the legends and abilities attributed to the Lords of Air and Flame from Valyria. Furthermore, he elaborated on how the old folk song he had just sung alluded to the fact that the First Men, thousands of years in the past, were already acquainted with the existence of Valyria.
As the leaders of the Free Folk absorbed Mance's words, apprehension filled the tent. The magnitude of what they were hearing weighed heavily on their minds. Tormund Giantsbane, one of the leaders of the Free Folk and a relative of Dalla, Mance's wife, raised his voice, his tone laced with concern.
"If this woman truly belongs to the Lords of Air and Flame, should we not perceive her as a potential threat?" He cast a worried glance at his young children and his little niece, Ygritte, considering the implications of this potential danger.
Mance met Tormund's gaze, his unwavering expression conveying his resolve. "We must proceed with caution," he replied. "While her power is undeniable, her message indicates that she and her companion do not pose as enemies to the Free Folk. Their true purpose, however, remains unclear. For now, it is in our best interest to refrain from provoking a confrontation, as it may bring unintended consequences."
Tormund scratched his beard, deep in thought. He had witnessed the devastating effects of conflicts and understood the importance of safeguarding their people. "Aye, caution is indeed wise," he acknowledged. "But we cannot dismiss the potential danger she represents. We must be prepared to defend our people if necessary."
Mance nodded in agreement, his eyes scanning the faces of the assembled leaders. "Indeed, Tormund. We shall remain vigilant and closely monitor her actions. If she poses a direct threat to our people, we will not hesitate to defend ourselves. However, for the time being, let us focus on gathering more information and understanding her true intentions."
The discussion among the leaders of the various Free Folk clans continued for several more hours, ultimately reaching a consensus to heed Mance Ryder's cautious approach towards the mysterious woman and her crow companion, while remaining vigilant and observant of their movements.
Once the meeting had concluded and Mance noticed that only he remained inside the tent along with his young wife Dalla, her sister Val, their cousin Tormund, his children, and his little niece Ygritte, Mance addressed them all. "I believe we should also consider other options, options that trace back to ancient times before the Andals invaded the lands of the south," he said, fixing his gaze on Tormund.
Tormund, sensing Mance's intense scrutiny of the ancient key he wore, responded with a hint of discomfort and in a brusque tone. "I know what you're about to say, Mance," he said, meeting his gaze. "And my answer remains no. We ceased to be that noble house thousands of years ago when we left Casterly Rock and headed north."
Upon hearing this, Val, the young and beautiful sister of Dalla, interjected, addressing Tormund. "Dear cousin, we mustn't close ourselves off to all possibilities. If being the last descendants of House Casterly serves us in any way, a family believed to be extinct south of the Wall, and we can negotiate with the Valyrians using this information, I would agree to come out into the open as Mance suggests."
Mance replied, "Tormund, let's set this discussion aside for now, but you must believe me when I say that the fact that you, my dear wife, her sister, your children, and your niece have those ancestors can be of use to us." Mance paused, noticing that everyone was listening attentively, and continued,
"There is one crucial piece of information you are unaware of: the Lannister family, current rulers of Casterly Rock, have unresolved blood matters with a Valyrian-descended family—the Targaryens."
In the following days, Tormund, accompanied by other trusted warriors, established a watchful presence near the borders of the mysterious woman's encampment. Their task was to carefully observe and monitor her actions, ensuring the safety of their people while gathering crucial information.
Beyond the wall 290 AC Elaena and Benjen
"Ely," Benjen said with concern in his voice, turning to face Elaena. "I've been seeing through Nightwing's eyes, and what I told you the other day is still happening. We are being followed and watched by a group of Wildlings."
Elaena approached from behind and embraced Benjen tightly, her arms enveloping him in a comforting hold. She placed a gentle kiss on his neck, her lips offering solace. "I'm not worried, Ben," Elaena said, her voice filled with reassurance. "If I were in their position, I would do exactly what they are doing—establishing surveillance without getting too close."
Benjen sighed, feeling a mix of frustration and unease. He could sense Elaena's grip tightening, her presence providing him with a sense of strength. "I know, Ely," he admitted. "It's just... I can't shake this feeling of unease. The Wildlings are the least of my worries. During our time beyond the Wall, I've felt a strange energy, as if we're walking into the unknown. I fear what lies ahead."
"I've felt it too, Ben," she whispered, her voice brimming with newfound resolve. "The magic that you sensed in this place, I've sensed it too. And with each step we take on our journey, its presence grows stronger. But we're in this together, Ben. We'll face whatever challenges come our way, and we'll come out stronger. Trust in our bond."
With a determined look in his eyes, Benjen nodded. "You're right, Ely. We can't let fear paralyze us. We have a mission to fulfill, and we'll see it through."
Valyria 290 AC
Viserys, Rhaenys, Aegon, and the youngest ones, Daenerys and Alysanne, stood at the entrance of the enormous cave that belonged to House Targaryen on the outskirts of the city. They gazed at the cave with a mixture of apprehension and excitement. Ser Willem Darry, who observed the scene, couldn't help but feel concerned. Daenerys and Alysanne occasionally turned to him, silently pleading for his company.
"Is it safe for them to go alone?" Ser Willem Darry asked, his voice filled with worry.
"Yes, the final part of this ceremony, the bonding with the dragon, is meant to be done by the future dragon rider alone," explained Aelora Baelarys, who was accompanied by her husband Jon Connington and her young niece Vaella Baelarys.
Aelora proudly looked at her 6-year-old niece Vaella, who had already undergone her bonding ceremony two months ago. During that ceremony, four baby dragons had flown closely to Vaella and formed a bond with her.
The ceremony had been lengthy, beginning with fire magic in the Tower of Fire, and continuing with blood magic in the Tower of Blood. It had been both long and somewhat bloody, as each potential dragon rider had to be bathed in dragon's blood before the bonding ceremony. Once that was done, each of them was presented with a dragon horn, known as the Dragon Horns.
Jon Connington, who had adopted the surname Balearys for political reasons within the Freehold and was known as Jon Balearys in meetings, stood beside his wife Aelora Baelarys. They observed the ceremony with intrigue.
Viserys, as the eldest of the children, was the first to approach the entrance of the cave and blow the Dragon Horn that had been given to him. The horn contained a mixture of his own blood and dragon's blood, which had been stored in a special area for ceremonies. After a tense moment, a small screech echoed from within the cave, and a tiny dragon emerged, flying towards Viserys. It landed on his shoulder, and as Viserys spoke a bonding spell, the little dragon settled comfortably.
One by one, the other children, Rhaenys, Aegon, Alyssane, and Daenerys, followed suit. When it was Aegon's turn, Jon Connington held his breath, his body tensed with anticipation. Aelora Baelarys, standing beside him, interlaced her fingers with his and squeezed his hand, offering support and smiling.
"Fascinating," Jon Connington murmured as he noticed that the baby dragon that emerged from the cave at Aegon's call was an intense black color, larger than any before it.
Finally, it was Daenerys' turn. Trembling, she approached the entrance of the cave and sounded her dragon horn. Time seemed to stretch as more than five minutes passed without any sound from within the cave. Tears welled up in Daenerys' eyes as she thought she would have to turn back. Suddenly, a surge of energy emanated from inside the cave, calling out to her.
"You are a dragon, Danny, you are a dragon," she thought inwardly. Without hesitation and to the astonishment of the witnesses, Daenerys entered the cave.
Tense moments passed, and then Daenerys emerged from the cave, leaving the onlookers in awe. Her eyes were still moist, but there was a look of joy on her face. As she approached the group, Aelora Baelarys noticed that Daenerys carried three eggs, ancient and fossilized in appearance, that had never hatched.
"How strange," Aelora Baelarys remarked. "Those eggs appear lifeless. But I sense something different, an energy that connects Daenerys to those eggs."
3 hours later Valyria (Balearys Tower) Aelora Balearys and Jon Connington
Aelora and Jon were engrossed in studying a map of Westeros, specifically focusing on the Stormlands. Jon, with a tinge of sadness, shared the history, "After Aerys's demise, Robert Baratheon crowned himself king and allowed Ronald to retain Griffin's Roost. However, House Connington lost its lordship, and nine-tenths of our lands were distributed among more fervent supporters of Robert. We went from being a noble house to mere landed knights."
"We'll reclaim those lands, Jon," Aelora declared with determination. "In Valyria, I'm Senator Balearys of the Triarchy, but in Westeros, I'll be Lady Connington. Regardless of the ruler on the Iron Throne, once we're organized in Numenor, we'll reclaim our lands. Ronnet, your cousin's son, will restore your title as Lord Connington."
Aelora's resolute words infused Jon with renewed hope. He looked at her gratefully and whispered, "Thank you, my love." They embraced, finding solace and strength in each other's arms, ready to embark on the journey to reclaim their lost lands and restore House Connington's honor.
1 day after Valyria (Balearys Tower) Aelora Balearys
Aelora gazed thoughtfully into the distance, her mind lingering on the recent conversation through the magic mirror with Elaena. Elaena had confirmed Aelora's suspicions about a powerful and unfamiliar magic in the North of Westeros, especially beyond the Wall.
Studying a map of the known world, Aelora whispered to herself, "There are four places where magic holds significant sway: the Valyrian Peninsula, the continent of Numenor, the Shadow Lands with its city of Asshai, and now, confirmed, the North of Westeros, including the lands beyond the Wall."
As Aelora organized her thoughts, she emphasized, "It's crucial that the secret about the magic in the North of Westeros and the susceptibility of the current descendants of the First Men to magic, like us Valyrians, remains concealed. But before that secret is unveiled within Valyria, I want my own family, the Balearys, along with the other families of the Triarchy and the Targaryens, whom I consider kin, to have already formed blood ties with the noble houses of the North, especially the Starks."
Her eyes gleamed with determination as she continued, "By doing so, the Triarchy and the Targaryens will gain a strategic advantage over the other families. This move will leave the remaining 39 dragonrider families with no choice but to seek alliances with lesser houses or even commoner families from the North of Westeros."
As Aelora lost herself in her thoughts, she received a message through one of her magic mirrors from Baesenarr Valitheos of the Triarchy.
"Aelora, good day," the message began. "Do you remember the report our explorers presented about the extraordinary material they discovered in Numenor? It seems to possess a strength and lightness that surpasses even steel."
Aelora, intrigued by the mention of the material, responded, "Good day, Baesenarr. Yes, I do recall. They referred to it as Mithril, if I'm not mistaken. What news do you have regarding it?"
Baesenarr's voice echoed through the magic mirror, carrying a tone of excitement. "We have made a remarkable discovery, Aelora. There are enormous mines of this material in Numenor."
Winterfell 290 AC
Within the training grounds of Winterfell, Lord Eddard Stark and Ser Rodrik Cassel engaged in a serious conversation. The sun cast a warm glow over the courtyard as they discussed the impending training for Eddard's sons.
"Ser Rodrik, it is time to prepare my sons for the challenges that lie ahead," Eddard said, his voice resolute. "Robb, Torrhen, and Jon must learn the ways of combat and be ready to defend themselves and their people."
Ser Rodrik, Winterfell's esteemed Master-at-Arms, nodded solemnly. "I understand, my lord. I will train them to the best of my abilities, instilling discipline and skill in the art of warfare."
As they continued their discussion, the four young boys, Robb, Torrhen, Jon, and Theon, waited patiently in the courtyard. Theon, a ward of House Stark, had recently joined them and was eager to prove himself worthy.
Once the conversation between Eddard and Ser Rodrik concluded, the Master-at-Arms approached the young boys. "Tomorrow, at first light, I expect all of you here in the training grounds," he announced, his voice carrying authority.
Catelyn Stark, observing the exchange from a distance, couldn't help but cast a stern gaze in Jon's direction. Although she understood Eddard's duty to his bastard son, a mix of resentment and guilt swirled within her. She knew that Jon's presence would forever remind her of her husband's infidelity.
Deep inside, however, Catelyn struggled with her conflicting emotions. She recognized that Jon was blameless in this matter and that her resentment was misplaced. A sense of guilt crept in, for he was an innocent soul caught in the complexities of the political landscape and conflicts within the Seven Kingdoms.
The following day, the training grounds of Winterfell buzzed with anticipation. Robb, Torrhen, Jon, and Theon stood side by side, their wooden training swords in hand, as Ser Rodrik began their first training session.
"Today, we begin with the fundamentals of swordplay," Ser Rodrik instructed, his voice steady and authoritative. "Pay attention, my lords, and focus on your stance, grip, and footwork."
As the boys earnestly followed Ser Rodrik's guidance, their wooden swords clashed and echoed through the training grounds. Robb displayed natural talent and leadership, Torrhen showed grace and precision, Jon demonstrated resilience and determination, while Theon exhibited a fierce determination to prove himself.
During a brief break in the training, Torrhen's gaze wandered towards the Library Tower, his mind captivated by the allure of knowledge. Ser Rodrik, noticing Torrhen's distraction, approached him with a gentle yet firm demeanor.
"Torrhen, my lord, focus on the present. The books will always be there for you, but for now, embrace the training that will shape you into a formidable warrior," Ser Rodrik advised, his voice filled with wisdom.
Torrhen nodded, a mixture of longing and determination shining in his eyes. "You are right, Ser Rodrik. I will give my all to this training, for I understand its significance."
As the first training session came to an end, the young lords gathered around Ser Rodrik, their faces flushed with exertion. Ser Rodrik's voice carried with authority and pride as he addressed the boys.
"You have all shown great promise today. With dedication and perseverance, you can become formidable warriors, defenders of the North. Remember, it is not just strength and skill that make a true knight, but also honor and loyalty."
The boys listened intently, their spirits soaring with a newfound sense of purpose. The training grounds of Winterfell had become a crucible for their growth and development, shaping them into the future protectors of their land.
LEAF (Children of the forest). Enchanted forest (Beyond the wall) 290 AC
As Leaf ventured further towards the origin of the foreign magic, a mixture of fascination and apprehension stirred within her. She had always been wary of outside forces that threatened the delicate equilibrium of the natural world she held dear. However, she couldn't deny the compelling link between this unfamiliar magic and the ancient tales that had reached her ears.
In the depths of her memories, Leaf recalled tales of a time long before her birth, when a fateful alliance had been forged between the gods of the forest and a deity from distant lands known as the Lord of Light. This alliance had resulted in the birth of a hero, wielding a legendary sword, who had valiantly faced and vanquished the encroaching darkness.
In her visions, the gods of the forest had revealed that this newfound power emanated not from the Lord of Light, but from a different pantheon of deities hailing from a distant eastern land known as Valyria. The revelation sparked a glimmer of hope within her. What if these Valyrian gods were to align themselves with the existing alliance between the gods of the forest and the Lord of Light? The mere thought filled her with anticipation.
Contemplating the convergence of these diverse deities, Leaf began to see a potential path forward. If the powers of Valyria were united with those already at play, the chances of overcoming the encroaching darkness would increase exponentially. The idea of a united front, where different faiths merged their powers, resonated deeply with her.
Her footsteps brought her to a clearing, where a mesmerizing circle of fire danced and crackled with enchantment. It was unlike anything she had ever witnessed before, radiating a potent energy that resonated with her being. As her gaze shifted, she noticed two figures standing within the mystical flames.
The man, clearly a descendant of the First Men, exuded a sense of strength and resilience. His presence hinted at a deep connection to the land and its ancient history. But it was the woman who captured Leaf's attention the most. With an aura of power enveloping her, she emanated a mysterious magic that resonated with the very essence of the foreign energy coursing through the air.
Elevating a silent prayer to the gods of the forest, Leaf decided to approach the circle of fire with steady steps. As she drew nearer, she noticed that the woman and the man had already taken notice of her presence, their eyes filled with fascination. With confidence in her voice, Leaf greeted them, "Greetings, Elaena Targaryen of Valyria and Benjen Stark of the First Men."