[Chapter Size: 3300 Words.]

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Third Person POV

North, 297 AC.

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Jon walked past his guards as he was the last to finally bathe after resolving the matter with the dragons. As he entered the water, he had barely stepped in when the door opened again, and he turned his face to see a feminine figure entering the room.

“Seryna…” Jon remarked as she was removing her clothes before stepping into the water with him.

“Don’t think I’ll miss the opportunity to finally have my husband to myself. It’s been a year and a half without you, Jon… I need to feel you again.” She wasted no time as she entered the water naked, sitting on Jon’s lap and leaning directly into his lips. So much time without this connection had turned Seryna into a wild woman finally having her man.

Jon said nothing as he pulled Seryna’s lips closer to his, adjusting her on his lap as he felt their intimate parts touch, their mutual hesitation intensifying.

“I don’t want to waste time…” Seryna murmured shyly, placing her hand on Jon before guiding him inside her.

“…” Jon remained silent as his wife began moving on him, his gaze fixed on her while she returned to kissing him.

An hour later, both emerged from the bath dressed in more appropriate clothing, walking through the castle corridors toward the area where the inner garden was located.

They passed the guards and entered the garden, where all the women were chatting among themselves. Ygritte held Lyanna and Brandon in her arms, while little Jon and Jahaerys played with each other as if they were getting acquainted.

“You’re finally here,” Ygritte commented, casting a suspicious look at Jon and Seryna. Nobody said anything; they only looked knowingly, aware the couple had been alone somewhere.

“Jon, were you able to calm the dragons? They seemed to be attacking each other. Look out the window…” Ygritte pointed to the scene.

Jon approached and looked out at the castle courtyard, where the dragons were growling and snapping at each other while sharing the space.

“That’s normal. It’s just a way of playing with each other… As long as they don’t tear each other’s skin, they’ll be fine,” Jon responded, turning back to the group.

He looked at all the women staring at him at that moment and let out a sigh. “Well, I’d like to start explaining what will happen from now on, both with Artica and our dealings outside of it. I’ll speak more on this over the next few days, but I owe you at least a brief explanation.” Jon addressed his current and future family.

Jon recounted his journey to Seryna over the course of a few hours, detailing the war in Yi-Ti. His older children were curious and asked many questions about their father’s adventures during his absence. Jon couldn’t resist and shared a few stories with them.

They spent some time together in the garden, where servants brought food and drinks for everyone. However, Jon knew he had other matters to address before the kingdom’s feast.

“I need to fly for a bit. I’ll spend an hour with Eragon before returning. Then, we’ll head to the kingdom’s banquet,” he announced, momentarily bidding his family farewell.

“I’d love to see you fly,” Rhaenys said as she moved to the window with Jahaerys.

“Can we see you fly with Eragon?! We’ve always tried, but Mom said it would be dangerous, and Eragon never allowed it!” Little Jon exclaimed in his childlike voice before his eyes lit up with realization. “Wait, can we fly with Dad?!” he asked hopefully.

“Not yet, Jon…” Jon replied to his son, knowing he had to set some boundaries, especially as it was dangerous without a saddle for Eragon.

Seeing his son look disappointed with the answer, Jon added, “But we can do it in the coming days. What do you think?” He asked, making the boy look at him quickly.

“Can we go? I want to go too, Dad!” Lyanna jumped out of Ygritte’s arms upon hearing this, and Jon nodded.

“But we’ll leave it for the coming days. Once Eragon has his own saddle,” Jon said, placing his hand on little Jon’s head.

“Can we go see him then?!” the boy asked his father, and Jon nodded, seeing no issue with them watching from the courtyard.

Jon then left the castle, heading toward the crowd of dragons, accompanied by the guards and his children, until they reached a safe distance.

At that moment, Artica had a total of 28 dragons: one belonging to Rhaenys, one to Daenerys, three to little Jon, two to Lyanna, and many others under Jon’s direct control. Eragon, the king’s official and most important dragon, stood apart, while Jon retained control over 21 young dragons who still lacked riders.

He walked through the area, ignoring the screeches and growls of the smaller dragons biting at each other’s necks—a playful competition for territory or food brought by the castle’s men, which had turned into a chaotic feast.

The dragons belonging to Lyanna and little Jon broke away from the group as they spotted their young riders.

Jon commanded the other dragons to calm down and managed to restore some order to the chaotic scene. The eight remaining dragons in Artica without riders sought his attention eagerly.

He approached them, giving them more attention than before as he worked to integrate the two groups of dragons. Then, he turned to Eragon, who waited patiently for Jon to mount him. The dragon adjusted himself to make it easier for Jon to climb onto his back, allowing him to settle comfortably on the creature’s neck.

Once Jon was properly seated, the other dragons watched with curiosity, while his two eldest children looked on with admiration. Inside the castle’s inner garden hall, the women observed him intently.

Eragon took a few steps to position himself in the center of the courtyard. The echo of his heavy footsteps reverberated as he moved. Stretching his wings wide, he prepared for takeoff.

With a powerful leap and a strong beat of his wings, Eragon began to ascend into the air under the watchful eyes of everyone below.

As Jon guided him toward the Great Tree, the protests of the younger dragons echoed through the air. Rhaenys watched with emotion from the window, seeing Jon as a true dragonrider, while their children fixed their eyes on their father as he grew distant.

Eragon swiftly flew over the Great Tree, leaving the castle behind and vanishing from view as he circled the enormous Weirwood. Then, he soared over the city. Jon noticed people pointing at the dragon, despite their growing familiarity with such sights.

Below Eragon, the main square—just past the grove of Weirwoods on this side—was being prepared, with the final touches being added for tonight’s banquet. Jon adjusted his path, flying over thousands of houses and buildings in Artica. As he looked down at the familiar landscapes, memories surfaced, comparing the past to the present, which now seemed newer and better after nearly two years.

He continued flying, observing the university, the great library on this side, and the residential areas. He then veered south, toward Artica’s production district, which was conveniently connected to the city so people didn’t need to travel far, while measures were in place to prevent pollution from affecting the urban areas. This district housed the forges, greenhouses, sawmills, and research and development areas.

He made a brief stop over the district’s main buildings. From there, he could see all his projects nearing completion, including the king’s greenhouse, which gleamed as sunlight reflected off its glass roof.

Jon allowed a small smile to cross his face and murmured to himself.

“It seems my projects are going well. I’ll be eager to speak with Seraphine tomorrow and see these crystals…”

This was a project Jon had initiated many years ago, and it had begun to bear fruit almost two years before his last journey. From what he saw, it seemed it was finally a success, but he would confirm that in the coming days. Beyond the luminous crystals crafted from plants, he noticed the king’s forge—the building dedicated to creating Valyrian steel. With the forge now complete and Eragon at his current size, the real work could finally begin. This was why Jon believed it marked a new era for the kingdom, along with the production of alloys using Eldenmetal for crafting weapons and armor.

Jon continued his flight, circling the city and observing other notable areas, such as the Senate, the Royal Castle, and the Event Arenas. The vision of the city he had dreamed of for so many moons was now a reality, and he felt immense pride.

Leaving the city behind, Jon soared over the southern fields and forests. In the distance, he heard the howls of wolves, greeting him as if they sensed his presence once again. Eragon flew effortlessly, showing himself to be larger and faster than ever before. He began to ascend, flying higher into the sky. Jon kept his hand firmly on the dragon to avoid slipping off.

“We’re quite high now… buddy…” Jon remarked, glancing down at the cold clouds below. The wind was bitterly icy, a stark reminder of the region’s climate, even though Artica itself was immune to the surrounding frost.

Suddenly, Eragon turned his head toward Jon as if trying to communicate something. At over 5,000 meters in altitude, Jon observed Artica below, now just a tiny dot. The Great Tree stood out even smaller, a distinctive feature at the city’s center.

“Do you want to show me something?” Jon asked, slightly surprised as he tapped into the dragon’s mind. He realized that Eragon intended to do something extraordinary.

“All right, show me what you want to do,” Jon said, bracing himself firmly.

“Roooar!” Eragon let out a soft roar, narrowing his eyes as he began flapping his wings with greater force. The sensation in the sky was one of pure freedom, but Jon started noticing the temperature around them dropping further and unexpectedly. This wasn’t caused by the cold wind but seemed to be coming from the sides.

He looked over and saw that Eragon’s wings were beginning to glow with an intense white light.

“What are you doing?” Jon asked, intrigued.

The light from Eragon’s wings grew brighter, and a thin mist began to form around them. Then, the dragon adjusted his body and initiated a sudden dive.

Even though Jon was accustomed to Eragon’s unexpected dives—often performed to show off his speed—this time felt different. The speed was far greater than before, and Jon felt the sharp wind cutting against his face as they plummeted.

Instead of leveling out, the speed continued to increase. Jon clung tightly to the dragon and watched, captivated, as Eragon demonstrated a new level of power or skill, diving in a way that seemed to defy the laws of gravity for a creature of his size and weight.

Jon struggled to maintain his composure as a sharp sound began to emanate from Eragon’s wings. The speed kept increasing, and Jon had to hold on even tighter, realizing this was becoming dangerous. The dragon left a trail of mist behind him as he hurtled toward the ground at incredible speed.

Few times in his life had Jon found it difficult to keep a neutral expression in the face of something. The wind was so strong that he had to shield himself, gripping Eragon’s back tightly. He realized he would need a saddle to withstand such a ride; otherwise, he might fall. Previously, Eragon’s maximum speed was estimated at 300 to 400 km/h, but now he was clearly surpassing 700 km/h, plummeting like a shadow from the sky.

Below, no one in Artica could fathom what was happening above them, as Eragon left a trail of frost and mist from his wings as he streaked through the sky at astonishing speed.

“Eragon, stop this or I’ll fall!” Jon commanded, fully aware that without his intervention, he would be in serious danger without a saddle to secure him.

Eragon seemed to mock him, and Jon felt the urge to curse the dragon for it. After all, he wasn’t a dragon who could survive a fall from such a height. However, Eragon eventually relented, nodding before beginning to slow down, stabilizing in the sky at around 3,000 meters. Even so, he maintained a high speed, flying around Artica with his wings still glowing, leaving a trail of mist behind.

“Dangerous, but I must admit it’s a rather interesting trick. You could leave all the other dragons behind with this,” Jon murmured, analyzing the situation.

His mind immediately began working as he contemplated how to make use of this ability. From what he saw in Eragon’s mind, the dragon had learned it during Jon’s absence from Artica. Instead of releasing a blizzard around his body, as he could, Eragon had concentrated the energy in his wings, gaining an incredible burst of speed in the sky.

A dragon capable of flying faster than any other would become extremely dangerous… The ability seemed promising, but Jon knew he would need a better saddle to ensure his safety if he wanted to explore Eragon’s full potential. He also considered how this ability could be useful against Cannibal, who was believed to be an even larger dragon than the Black Dread after nearly two centuries dormant in Skagos. According to the visions Jon had seen, the dragon that had conquered Westeros alongside two others had been almost 90 meters long at the time of its death—nearly four times Eragon’s size.

Jon hovered above the city for a while, until Eragon began to show signs of fatigue. His wings returned to normal, losing the misty glow they had held, having sustained the high speed for about ten minutes.

Jon was fortunate to be resistant to the cold—after all, he doubted another rider could endure what he had, thanks to his natural Stark blood giving him resilience against the cold.

“You’ve shown me something truly amazing, buddy… Let’s continue this in the coming days,” Jon said, already planning to conduct tests with the dragon once the kingdom’s more pressing matters were resolved.

Afterward, Eragon began descending, flying toward the Great Tree as the sun set. The city started to light up with scattered torches across the square. Thousands of flames flickered, preparing for the grand banquet in honor of the king’s return.

Jon returned to the castle, landing once more among the dragons, who roared in greeting upon seeing him. He dismounted Eragon, feeling the need for another bath. The royal guards approached to receive him, but Jon greeted them briefly before heading inside the castle.

Jon took another bath before reuniting with his family. Seryna took the opportunity to show the newcomers around the castle, introducing them to the quarters they would share for the rest of their lives. Meanwhile, Ygritte spent some alone time with Lyanna, wanting to savor every moment she could with her.

Now, with everyone waiting for the king, Jon found himself alone in his room after Seryna left to organize the carriages for their departure. Adjusting the final details of his attire, Jon had dismissed the servants when the door suddenly opened a small crack.

The little head of young Jon peeked through, looking at his father as Jon’s face broke into an amused smile.

“Come here, my son,” Jon said, and the boy nodded, stepping into the room.

It felt strange for the boy to have seen his father for the first time just hours earlier. Now, he wanted to stay with him all the time, thrilled to finally call him “Dad” and closely observing everything Jon did, eager to mimic his actions.

The same could be said for Jon as he looked at his son, determined to raise him from this moment onward so that, one day, he might find his place. Jon would ensure his son had a far better life than he himself had ever experienced.

“Do you want to go to the banquet with Dad?” Jon asked with a smile.

The boy nodded timidly, surprised that his father had understood his intention in coming there.

“All right, then let’s go.” Jon replied, tying a small cord around his waist to adjust his attire comfortably. He then walked out, holding his son’s hand as the boy wore a white outfit with Artica’s emblem perfectly tailored to his size.

“My king!” The royal guards outside immediately saluted.

“Let’s go. Everyone’s waiting,” Jon said as he exited. The city was already aglow with torches pushing back the darkness of the night. Carriages awaited outside, pulled by elk with luminous antlers.

The women, including the mothers of his children, were already prepared, and the ministers would meet them halfway through the banquet. Jon had instructed that the dragons remain at the castle that night to avoid any disruptions during the grand event. Eragon was responsible for keeping order and didn’t seem particularly interested in the city’s festivities.

As Jon headed to the carriages, he rode with Seryna and Aemon, bringing little Jon along and taking the opportunity to exchange a few words with Aemon. His wives and other children traveled in separate carriages, which followed close behind as they left the castle.

The banquet filled Artica’s main square, which was not far from the castle—separated only by the Great Tree. The square was large enough to accommodate the entire city, spanning more than half a square kilometer. It featured streams and bridges that crossed a central point, directly in front of the sacred grove. The central platform, used for official speeches and major religious events, was also where Jon’s weddings to Seryna and Ygritte had taken place.

The square was bustling with people as more and more citizens poured in from the city. The royal carriages would stop near the main platform, where the family would sit at the central table.

The square was overflowing with food, the bounty of abundant harvests and hunts from Artica’s forests. No one needed to ration anything; Artica had become self-sustaining. Local herds had grown to the point where meat production seemed endless. Food and drink were plentiful, and hunger was nonexistent in this kingdom—except in the prison system, where inmates had to work for their meals.

The carriages finally stopped, and Jon made his way to the platform with his family.

“Jon… My boy!” An elderly voice rang out as people nearby watched the royal family. Jon turned toward the voice and saw the Old Nan with Hodor beside her, along with a woman holding a baby nearby.

‘Hodor got married and had a child…’ Jon thought as he noticed the child in the woman’s arms. It seemed that the return of Hodor’s voice had done more than give him the ability to speak—it had granted him a life of his own.

“Old Nan, it’s been a long time. I hope you’re well,” Jon said, ignoring the other voices calling out to him as he focused on the woman he had brought from Winterfell over five years ago.

“I’m well, my boy. You’ve returned—may Artica be blessed for it,” she said. Jon didn’t mind the informal way she addressed him and simply nodded in acknowledgment. He then continued toward the platform, giving the woman a thankful wave.

“Let’s go; the city is waiting for us now,” Jon said as they took their places.

————-Nexts Chapters —————-

Chapter 218 – The Routine of the King of Artica 04. | Patreon

Chapter 223 – The Truth 04. | Patreon

Chapter 233 – The She-Wolf of the North 03. 

Chapter 242 – Artican Army vs Khal Drogo’s Khalasar 01.

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