[Chapter Size: 3500 Words.]

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Third Person POV

Arctic, 299 AC.

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Quickly, the port of Arctic descended into chaos that day, as the city was still getting used to returning to the routine it had before the war against the dead, given that it had been only two weeks since the fighting had ended.

With that, everyone was surprised by the sudden movement of the army, as troops were summoned and marched toward the ships.

The people of Arctic believed they were already preparing for war in the south, but soon received information from the soldiers themselves: a conflict was about to happen in Hardhome. A group of southerners was advancing north of the Wall by ship.

A group with a southern king who had challenged the King of Arctic and was seeking to recruit the free folk themselves to try to make them fight in the south for the southern king.

Arctic no longer had a very strong bond with the free folk outside the walls, because the moment they enter Arctic, the tribes’ way of life is left behind. But Arctic itself also did not like at all hearing about a southern king on his way to try to force them into submission.

Not even the King of Arctic could demand that his people kneel, and now someone from the south simply appeared and believed he could make them fall to their knees.

The fleet was lined up while the soldiers continued their march. Around two hundred ships would go to Hardhome. That is twenty thousand men marching in total, and those same men, dwarves and giants, one step at a time, advanced toward the port, with armor and their weapons.

Jon was with his Kingsguard and Arya, watching all the movement of his men, when Bran joined him, already walking on his own, while the Stark boy also observed a true army up close and the kingdom of Arctic’s for the first time, not having been able to see them in action while confined in the sanctuary during the war.

For Bran, they were far more disciplined than any military group that had passed through Winterfell, wondering if all the armies of the world would be like this, but he would be disappointed if he knew the answer.

Arya was the only one of the few women close to him who would go with Jon. Since it was not something concerning, dealing with ten thousand men from the south, Jon left Seryna in Arctic, but that did not mean Rhaenys, being as stubborn as she was, did not want to go as well, and she would provide air support with her dragon. Not only her; Daenerys also said she was determined and that she wanted to be useful for the first time.

Jon understood. Just like Rhaenys, Daenerys had been quite frustrated since she returned, because she had never been able to contribute in the war. Her dragon was not big enough, and Jon preferred that she did not go: it was dangerous even for him to fly in the sky with the dead beasts attacking all the time.

“That damned Stannis is going to pay for stealing Uncle’s armor!”, Arya did not fail to growl, and Jon agreed. Jon told her what had happened since he could see what was happening at Castle Black.

“Yes. It is time for me to start organizing that mess in the south created by five kings. It is time to eliminate some fools with delusions of grandeur,” Jon said.

“So you are going to kill him?”, Bran asked at his side, looking curious, trying to get used to this new dynamic.

“Probably,” Jon did not deny it. “He still has a wife and daughter at Castle Black. I still do not know what I will do with them, but that does not matter. I will finish off the men and return. I will send a ship to fetch them later, as prisoners. I do not know what to do with them, but they will come to Arctic, whether they want to or not,” Jon said.

“Jon, when will I be ready to go to the fights as well?”, Brandon suddenly asked at his side, as he watched the giant handling enormous crates. He stopped, in front of the ships beginning to organize things before boarding them with the military belongings.

“Not now, and not in the southern war either, Bran. Your time will be different. You are still recovering,” Jon said.

The boy looked a little disappointed. “Arya was already fighting at my age,” he muttered.

“That is true, but Arya received training since she was eight years old, when she set foot in Arctic. She only started traveling with me at eleven. She spent three years learning and strengthening her body with the potions. You are only beginning now. Unfortunately, this is a southern war. These will not be your battles to fight. However, we do not know what the future holds,” Jon paused, staring at him.

“I do not know whether Robb will be alive or not, but I will not allow him to be Lord of Winterfell.”

Arya looked at him, pressing her lips together, but said nothing.

“What?”, Bran seemed surprised by that information.

“I am saying that I can no longer allow Robb to take the position of Lord of Winterfell after what happened, whether he is alive or not. That is why you will become the Lord of Winterfell and Protector of the North. Winterfell is yours to command. The North will be yours to care for in my name, just as all the High Lords of each kingdom do,” he said in a serious tone.

“What did you expect, little brother?”, Arya murmured with a faint smile as she looked at Bran.

“But I was never raised to be a lord. Robb was. What is going to happen to Robb?”, Bran could not help but ask, worried.

“I do not know. I will have to see the situation if he is found alive. But in any case, you will take the position of heir and will receive training directly from the kingdom, as you have already begun. You will learn everything you need here to rule Winterfell and also to control your natural gifts, just as I and your sister do,” Jon said, serious.

Bran nodded, although he was a little reluctant about the new information.

The ships continued being filled. The Arctic men marched quickly. The first rows of ships began to leave the port. It was the first time that a large number of vessels departed at the same time.

Quickly, they passed through the middle of the kingdom’s farm, which was still returning to normal, with the reconstruction of the vegetable gardens and planting that would not take long to grow. It did not matter the season of the year or whatever seed was planted in that soil, the roots of the Great Sacred Tree strengthened the land for planting directly from the underground.

Jon merely observed, knowing that he would wait a few more days until the ships reached their destination. He would remain a few more days in Arctic, able to arrive in just a few minutes riding his dragon.

He took advantage of this time and stayed with Bran, taking him to get to know Arctic better, with the boy already having gone out with his sister and friends a few times, while he himself gave him some lessons to help him as the future Lord of Winterfell.

Classes had returned at the university, and Jon visited it with Aemon. Bran went with Rickon and Jon wanted to enroll him. It would be good for the boy to live with other boys his age, especially those who also shared similar abilities, without barriers of noble blood.

This also happened with the Reed siblings, whom Jon had asked if they wanted to participate as well and, if necessary, he would send a letter to their father.

Jojen and Meera ended up accepting the proposal and went to study with Bran. It was possible to see the difference of learning there, in a completely distinct way from what they were used to with the maesters in the traditional style of Westeros.

They had also spoken with other young people from Arctic who visited the city, including Bran. The atmosphere was quite different from any city in the North, much livelier and full of color, people more cheerful than northerners usually are.

Bran and his brother, with Cassandra being no exception, with the woman ending up staying with Ygritte, they visited the city since it truly began to move, even still far from its peak, the southern boys and the woman were enchanted.

After Jon settled things at the university and left Bran with his brother, he returned to the castle. Arya was training with the Kingsguard. Daenerys and Rhaenys were training flight with their dragons.

The children ran through various parts of the castle, playing and causing some mischief, while Val rested. It would not take long for her to give birth — perhaps one moon at most.

Jon would be in the south when she gave birth, but he would not fail to return immediately to Arctic when the moment arrived as he planned.

Ygritte and Hiyori, together with Seryna and her ladies-in-waiting — Missandei, Joy Jill, Shenara’, and Cassandra and others — were gathered, all taking care of the babies, who were already trying to say their first words, like “mommy” and “daddy,” while babbling confused sounds. It would take a little more time, but soon they would be calling for their parents.

Jon remained in the castle in the following days, somewhat thoughtful about the war, while also trying to extend his powers beyond the Wall. He still had a blockage because of the Wall, but he was already able to surpass it little by little. His influence expanded more and more.

The days passed, and finally the moment to depart arrived. Arctic’s warships were reaching Hardhome, while the dragons landed in the castle courtyard without any trouble.

Eragon would not go. Arya departed with Jon, riding the red dragon, as Jon had begun to show a certain fondness for the young female dragon, even among the other dragons.

The female was quite enthusiastic about Jon as well. Eragon had not liked this very much. Despite being Jon’s primary dragon — and already having surpassed Vezofēdrur in power, even with the white dragon being two thirds the size of the black dragon — Jon preferred to vary from time to time and ride different dragons. He was a rider of many dragons, even knowing that he would soon lose some of them to his children.

After all, the dragons were increasingly interested in the castle, as if they were looking for something there. Brandon, Jaehaerys, Loki, and Lyanna had already been chosen by their dragons. Loki had three dragons, Lyanna two, Jaehaerys two, and Brandon had one. With his two wives having one each, there were already ten dragons with their riders. Jon had Eragon and Vezofēdrur who would not be anyone else’s dragons during his lifetime. Strawberry also ended up becoming one of his dragons who would not go to another rider.

So he went to the red dragon, who had a saddle designed for her. Strawberry stood proudly while Jon climbed onto her and helped Arya settle in.

“Let’s go,” Jon said to his other two wives, who nodded.

“Sōvēs.” He gave the order for his dragon to fly into the sky. The other two dragons soon followed.

They reached the skies of Arctic and advanced southward. The Arctic fleet of two hundred warships would be arriving at that moment in Hardhome, unaware of what had already been brought upon itself.

Meanwhile, near Hardhome…

Stannis was advancing through the icy waters of the frozen sea. They would be reaching Hardhome in a few hours, while the beach itself could already be seen along one of the stretches of the northern coast as they progressed.

Stannis had a simple plan. He had lost and been forced to retreat after the Battle of the Blackwater, where he left with a large portion of his men dead. He did not even have ten thousand men at that moment. Because of that, he did not believe he could defeat the Boltons, much less the Lannisters.

He thought of taking drastic measures, and when he heard about the wildlings gathering for a possible conflict… He listened to Davos, who suggested that it was a good option to help the Wall. So he decided to show the Seven Kingdoms that he was worthy of being their king. If he helped the Wall, he could have the North at his side and also be well regarded by all the kingdoms. Even if most of them cared little about the Wall, it was still a symbol to be protected.

He could also use the wildlings themselves. The North would not like the proposal very much, but he would make them understand.

He had always trusted Melisandre’s magic. It was that magic that killed his traitor brother. It was that magic that gave him many answers. That was why he trusted the priestess more than Ser Davos, after the failure at the Blackwater.

Even the Velaryons did not support him as much as before — something he also suspected was related to that cursed name.

Aegon Targaryen…

When Lord Stark had announced him before all of King’s Landing, the game had changed. Stannis was angry that it was he whom Lord Stark should have supported, declaring that he was the rightful king of the Iron Throne.

However, he announced that Aegon Targaryen, the legitimate son of Lyanna and Rhaegar, was alive and had been raised in Winterfell.

That brought a new player onto the board — one even more powerful in terms of claim, not to mention the military power he already possessed.

Stannis was frustrated when he heard the news coming from King’s Landing.

Stannis was confident, but there were also doubts… He knew the power Arctic had, he knew what they had already done to the Seven Kingdoms… And his doubts grew with each passing day, Melisandre always assured that, in the end, he would fulfill his role.

He did not win the war against the dead, as Melisandre used to say, but another did…

He could not help but look at the Red Woman emerging onto the deck, radiant, with a smile on her face. Certainly something had happened differently for her than for him, who was growing darker with his thoughts.

“My king, my prince,” she began.

Stannis merely looked at her, waiting for her to continue.

“I bring you good news. The Great R’hllor spoke to me. He sent me a message in the flames. Finally, my god spoke to me and made it clear that I should pass this message on to you,” she said.

Stannis remained silent, watching her. He did not quite know what to say about that. The Red God was still a great mystery to him, but Melisandre had always assured him that he stood in favor of him and his cause.

Melisandre took a deep breath, still displaying a wide smile. “He spoke to me not only through images, but with words. He said it would be here, my prince, that my purpose would be fulfilled,” she declared, excited, as if she were saying she had found the meaning of her life.

“Your purpose?”, Stannis murmured cautiously, sounding more as if he were speaking of a sacrifice than of a conquest.

Seeing Stannis’s cautious expression, she continued, still with radiant joy. “My king, my purpose has always been to lead you onto the correct path. Do you not understand? It is here that your conquest will begin. The tide of your victories will start here, until you reach your goal: the Iron Throne. It will be here where I will finally succeed in leading you to the beginning of your victory and conquest,” she said.

Stannis seemed to relax a little more upon hearing that, touched by her words. He felt satisfied.

“My king, why not wear the Valyrian steel armor? You must arrive before the wildlings as a king. All of them will kneel before you immediately,” she said.

He nodded and entered the ship’s cabin. Melisandre followed him to help as he put on the armor piece by piece.

“You know that this armor was also sent to you, do you not, my king? See how it fits perfectly. It was destiny that you should have it, the will of R’hllor,” she said with satisfaction as he completed the set.

“Like a true king!” Melisandre’s red eyes were shining. Stannis also seemed very proud.

“Now let us return. We are almost there,” he said.

Thus, both returned to the deck, while the men were already at work. Some knights approached, informing them that they were arriving and pointing toward Hardhome.

In the distance, it was possible to see the numerous tents. The people on the beach itself began to look curiously, seeing those ships approaching, displaying a banner unknown to many: the crowned stag wrapped in flames.

“I feel that they are already trembling at your presence,” Melisandre said, turning to all the men behind Stannis.

“Today we will witness the new era of a king. The prince, the champion of R’hllor, stands before you, and today will be his first day of conquest. I saw it in the flames, my faithful followers of the Red God. Stannis is on the path of no return toward his conquest.”

She declared this while some men seemed inspired, nodding fervently. Others beat their chests with pride. Some, more devoted to the Seven Gods, still looked at the Red Woman with suspicion, but even so, they nodded.

It was at that moment that a small bird suddenly landed on a chest near them. Everyone looked at the same time, as the bird made strange sounds, almost as if it were laughing at them.

It was Glo, a small gray raven who had been in Arctic for more than twelve years, ever since the day Jon took her from a small shop in the Glover territory, in FrostRoar — a city located somewhat south of Deepwood Motte.

The bird had become a personal messenger between Jon and his uncle, always flying to Winterfell and returning to Jon with replies from his family since those early days. She had always shown unusual intelligence, and her antics were quite distinctive, as if she were constantly mocking someone.

Someone pointed at her.

“My king… he has a letter,” one of the men murmured, noticing the scroll tied to the bird’s leg.

“GLOOO!!”

“GLOOO!!”

The bird began making loud cries and simply lifted her little leg, as though inviting someone to remove the parchment. One of the men approached carefully and took it. The raven did not seem bothered in the slightest, perching proudly in front of them.

The man carried the parchment to Stannis, without taking his eyes off the bird, as if trying to identify what kind of creature it was.

The bird did not leave while Stannis opened the letter. Melisandre stared at the owl the entire time, with a strange gleam in her eyes.

Stannis saw that the letter did not contain messages for whoever might have seen this being, but it was clearly meant for him.

He opened it and read the letter, and his expression could not help but darken.

‘Oh, Stannis Baratheon. It seems the south is declining quite badly. We not only have a kinslayer wanting to wear a crown while practicing black magic to kill his own brother, but also a shameless thief who steals in broad daylight. It is a good thing Westeros will never have someone like you as king. Otherwise, I cannot imagine what kind of kingdom you would create with your red witch always whispering in your ear.

I met many like her during my travels through Essos. Their very religion supported me and helped me with the matter of Slaver’s Bay, but I never trusted them or their words. I always found them far too fanatical. Even their own god did not seem very trustworthy to me, although he sounded sincere at times when I met him. Even so, I would never allow that god to have any follower whispering in my ear or remaining within the domains of my kingdom. That is why, when I met him, I said this to his face.’

Stannis read that, stopping to reread it again — a second time, then a third.

He did not seem to believe those words.

He knew very well who the letter was from. None other than Aegon Targaryen — Jon Snow or Jon Arctic. He no longer knew which name to use to call him.

But to say that he had met the god himself, spoken with him and even defied him? Stannis could not believe such words, considering them blasphemies.

The next words below the first part of the message made him frown.

‘I am coming for you at this very moment, and most likely, I am going to kill you.’

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