A White Dragon's Legacy - A Stark Legacy. (Patreon)

Rhaenyra Targaryen, the Observatory – Ocean of Souls.

"Are you all right, darling? You seem distracted," Rhaenyra said with extreme tenderness as she caressed Jace's silky jet-black hair.

Her firstborn, her pride, and the greatest pain she had ever felt in her torturous life.

The death of Lucerys had been devastating, and it had been a wrenching pain, but the death of Jacaerys…

Her firstborn, her heir, the first child she had held in her arms… Gods, Rhaenyra had no words to describe what she had felt when she learned of her son's death.

She had felt as though a piece of her soul had died with him, taking with it the last drops of mercy she had left.

Her beloved mother had confessed to her long ago that witnessing the deaths of her grandchildren through the sphere had been the most desperate thing of all, watching Vhagar's jaws devour Arrax in a single bite or watching Essosi ships shoot down Vermax…

Rhaenyra was sincerely grateful that she had not witnessed such moments. She knew she was not strong enough to endure them.

Alas, that was in the past. They were dead. The proud House of the Dragon had been humiliated and overthrown by the Baratheons, the Lannisters, and the Starks; Rhaegar had been killed on the Trident, Aerys had been killed by Jaime Lannister, and little Rhaenys and Aegon…

Rhaenyra simply shook her head, not wanting to remember the torture that had been watching the mutilated corpses of the last Targaryens at the feet of the Iron Throne, while Robert Baratheon and Tywin Lannister watched with cruel fascination.

Now… all hopes rested on Aemon.

And Rhaenyra did not have to be the smartest person in the world to know that every member of House Targaryen was watching the adventure of the Last Dragon while holding their breath.

Oh, the irony, that the hopes of House Targaryen rested upon a prince who had grown up as a Bastard.

But that did not matter now… Rhaenyra only had attention for one thing, the incredible journey Aemon was living through at this very moment.

And then, like the rest of the Targaryens present in the Observatory, she fell silent.

And watched as Jon and the mysterious Samuel landed in the clearing of the most beautiful and magical forest Rhaenyra had ever seen in her life.

"By the Gods… it's beautiful!" her granddaughter Naerys whispered, while many princesses around her nodded with her words.

If the flu flames had felt terrible, the portkey left Jon with his head spinning a thousand times worse, one moment he was in the Leaky Cauldron and a second later he was in a beautiful cobblestone road, his face on the floor and his head spinning like crazy.

"Oh Gods… my head," Jon croaked with agony in his voice. His face was green and he had to make a titanic effort to keep his lunch in his belly.

"Come on, lad, we don't have all day. Stand up."

It was Samuel who was standing as if nothing had happened, looking at him indifferently, although Jon could notice a gleam of amusement in his eyes.

"You get used to it… with time, hahaha," said the old man while offering his hand to Jon, helping him to stand up.

The Young Wolf took it and stood up, looking around in marvel.

"Are all of the magical ways of travel that… unpleasant?" said Jon with a wince on his face, making Samuel snort with amusement.

"Just wait until you have to learn how to Apparate, lad," said the old man, while both of them started to walk up the hill.

"By the Gods, that place is… beautiful," whispered his mother Aemma with absolute wonder in her voice, while the sphere showed them the marvelous sight of the Stark Lands in this strange land.

As usual, the envy was more than evident on the faces of most of her family, even if they wanted to make a titanic effort to hide it. She could not blame them, to be honest. Even she could not suppress the envy she felt while looking at Aemon's life, at everything his Stark blood offered him.

And her pride was wounded, knowing that Targaryen blood was incapable of offering even a tiny fraction of what they were witnessing at that moment.

It was a somber reflection in the Queen's opinion.

"There is no doubt that there is magic in that place. Look at those statues, that road and those trees… even through the sphere, it is possible to feel the magic of the place," said Daeron II intensely, causing several of those present to nod softly.

Rhaenyra agreed, silently observing the marvelous wilderness through which her descendant walked, completely dazzled by the amount of magic her eyes were witnessing.

The Road of the Wolves slowly climbed the slope of an enormous hill, built from huge slabs of dark stone, perfectly assembled and adorned with ancient runic motifs unknown to Rhaenyra. Without a doubt, its construction had been magical in nature.

On both sides of the road, black stone statues of wolves sat upon tall pedestals, watching over the path. Small magical spheres rested in their muzzles, emitting a warm golden light that illuminated the road as evening fell.

The mixture of colors was extraordinarily beautiful. If it were at the Queen's disposal, she would undoubtedly walk along this beautiful path every evening.

"Aemon's new home is truly beautiful," Baelor said softly, causing her beloved Jacaerys to nod gently.

"And we haven't even seen the castle yet… this Wolf's Den," he said calmly.

The magical forest rose around them like a natural vault, with intertwined branches forming a majestic arch over the travelers. The orange light of sunset passed through the leaves, mixing with the mist that snaked between the roots. As the road climbed, the statues became more numerous and ancient, while the path finally disappeared behind the crest of the hill, concealing whatever awaited beyond.

"This place is extremely beautiful. I can feel my magic… singing in harmony. I don't know how to explain it. It's incredible," said Jon, completely dazzled by everything he saw.

"I recognize that tree. It's a magical variant called a Twilight Olive. Its wood is beautiful and changes color depending on the state of the Moon. It was cut down to extinction about two hundred years ago, and see those fat little golden birds? They're Golden Snidgets! They're supposed to be extinct too!" said the old man, completely dazzled by what he was observing around him.

And indeed, Jon watched in surprise as a group of at least ten of these curious birds flew directly in front of him, singing a beautiful and warm melody. They were curious, moving their golden wings at incredible speed, making them appear invisible. The Young Wolf could understand where the similarity to the Snitch came from.

"They're beautiful. What happened to them?" Jon asked with a smile as he stretched out his arm, laughing softly when one of the smaller birds, undoubtedly barely a baby, landed on his arm and looked at him curiously, its beak singing that warm melody that put him in a good mood simply by hearing it.

Samuel sighed heavily and answered.

"Wizards and witches used them for Quidditch for centuries until they drove them to extinction. It wasn't until Bowman Wright invented the Snitch that the poor birds could finally rest, although the damage had already been done… finding them in the wild is a miracle. The Stark Lands are truly blessed," said Samuel with a smile, laughing as another of the little birds landed on his hand, singing joyfully.

Rhaenyra watched the magical birds with a smile, appreciating the beauty of such magnificent creatures.

Until…

"By the Gods, they look like balls with wings," her brother Aegon II spat incredulously with a loud laugh, evidently drunk.

Aemond simply struck him on the back of the head before snapping.

"Be quiet. You are having the privilege of observing a magical wilderness. Behave accordingly," said his younger brother, causing Aegon to grumble under his breath, much to the cruel amusement of those around them.

"Do you feel different?" Samuel asked, although with a reserved tone and some kind of longing in his voice.

Jon was with his eyes closed, enjoying the magical feeling against his skin and trying not to be overwhelmed. The new Lord Stark just shook his head and answered.

"It's hard to explain. I feel like I'm coming home and being welcomed with open arms, like a kind of hug. My body sings as I walk through these lands and they respond, happy for my presence and eager for me to reach the Castle."

"It must be an incredibly stimulating sensation," said Aegon V with a smile of excitement.

"And terrifying without a doubt. It is impossible for me to even imagine it," his father Maekar replied, observing everything around him with a frown, causing several heads to nod softly at his words.

Shaking his head, Samuel replied.

"I can't understand you, boy, but I imagine such a feeling can be overwhelming. I've never felt any of that in my entire life."

At those words, the Targaryens of the Observatory reacted differently.

The vast majority stared at the sphere in confusion, unable to understand the old man's words.

"I don't understand. Why does he say he cannot understand Aemon? Is it because he isn't a Stark?" Lucerys asked curiously.

However, his beloved Jace shook his head solemnly and replied.

"It's because he has no magic, brother, like the old man from the cat we saw at Hogwarts," Jace said softly, causing the vast majority to open their eyes in surprise at that revelation. The exceptions were the old King, Daeron, and his two sons, Baelor and Maekar.

Jon looked at the man with a pained expression on his face before answering in a soft tone and with genuine regret.

"I'm sorry I made you revive demons from the past, Mr. Anderson."

Samuel simply let out a heavy sigh before nodding and making a lazy gesture with his hand.

"No worries, lad. It is what it is. There's nothing you can do," he said while shaking his head and looking away toward the horizon, seeing how the forest began to end and a large meadow became visible.

"Nothing can be done at the moment," Jon said in a low voice, his face set in determination, not fully believing the situation of the Squib.

"Ha! That's your face, Maekar, like you just smelled shit and have a stick up your ass! You can see the family resemblance!" said Aegon IV as he let out a loud laugh, ignoring the snorts of some of the Targaryens present, as well as the furious looks of Daeron II and his four sons.

"Apparently, you are just as despicable in life as he is in death," said Daeron the Good solemnly, looking at his own father with utter contempt, though the man completely ignored him, more concerned with pouring himself more wine.

However, no one else responded to the man's crude words, because at that moment, Aemon had reached the end of the forest and the edge of the lake, where, to the surprise and obvious envy of all the Targaryens…

Was Wolf's Den.

"Fuck," Rhaenyra said, stunned by what she was seeing.

"Shit," her brother Aegon said, and Aemond was so impressed by what he was seeing that he did not even correct his brother.

"Are those trees moving?" asked her son Aegon III, looking somewhat warily at the magical sight before them.

Aerion paced like a caged lion, staring at the sphere as if it were the greatest offense to House Targaryen.

"It's unfair! It's impossible! A magical castle? The Starks are vassals of the Targaryens! Why do they have this and we don't?" spat Rhaenyra's deranged descendant.

At least until Maekar intervened and snapped.

"Shut the fuck up, Aerion!" said his stern descendant, causing the young prince to obey immediately, although he continued pacing and watching the sphere with contempt and envy.

"It's truly impressive. I wonder what secrets it holds," exclaimed his father with interest, before his granddaughter Daena laughed softly and answered.

"Stark secrets, undoubtedly, great-grandfather!" she said with a radiant smile, enjoying constantly reminding everyone present that, no matter how much they knew Aemon was a prince of the blood…

He still considered himself a Stark.

"It's impressive," said her beloved Jace, absorbed in the vision they had of the famous Wolf's Den, and Rhaenyra could do nothing but agree.

It was not very large, at least compared to the immensity of Harrenhal and Winterfell. Wolf's Den was much more modest than those, but at the same time, it was the most impressive castle Rhaenyra had ever seen. The structure rose upon a rocky island, surrounded by the dark and tranquil waters of the lake, which shone with a golden glow produced by the beautiful rays of the setting sun. Its black stone walls embraced gardens, courtyards, and towers, making the peculiar and robust architecture of the First Men evident, although there was also the influence of something else upon the walls of Aemon's new Fortress, while blue banners bearing images of a beautiful white tree dominated the entire structure. From here, the snow-covered peaks seemed to form a crown around my domain.

"I wonder where it is. Those mountains seem… strange, as if they shouldn't be there," said Daeron II, observing the strange range of snow-covered mountains behind the castle with great attention.

"I don't know, but look at that. It's incredible, although the bridge seems to be broken," said his uncle Vaegon, observing everything his eyes could see with great attention.

However, as if Aemon had heard his grandfather's brother's words, Aemon drew his wand with an elegant movement and, without stopping, began moving it over his head, making slow, circular motions.

The result?

Enormous pieces of rock emerged from the beautiful waters, levitating at the command of the Last Dragon and repairing a stone bridge almost instantaneously, shocking the old Samuel, who could only open and close his mouth in astonishment at Aemon's magical feat.

Just like every member of the Observatory.

"Oh, forget it," said his now-silent uncle, who was still stunned by what he had just witnessed.

"Even the old man seems surprised. I suppose Aemon's magical skill isn't something common. You can tell he's a Targaryen," said Aerion with arrogance and pride.

"Or a Stark," his sister Daella said with evident amusement, causing snorts throughout the room.

The main bridge led directly to the enormous fortified gate, flanked by two stone wolves watching over the road.

"Boy, look at that lake below the waterfalls. On the other side is Cranleigh, a nearby town and my home. It's small, but the people are friendly, and you're practically a neighbor, so people will want to meet you," he said, patting Jon on the shoulder.

Jon looked at the man with a solemn face and said,

"Is Cranleigh a vassal town of my family? If so, I will take the responsibilities of the people without problem, Mr. Anderson," Jon exclaimed with conviction, remembering his father's words. Being noble implied great responsibilities, not only rights and privileges.

At those wise words, Rhaenyra could not help but smile, proud of Aemon's sense of responsibility, something that, apparently, he shared with several members of his family.

"Excellent. Aemon understands very well one of the most difficult parts of ruling: responsibilities. This town… Cranleigh, it looks quite small, perfect for the Future King to learn about administration," said old King Jaehaerys solemnly, causing all the Targaryen men, with two exceptions, to nod at the old man's words.

Samuel smiled slightly when he heard the young man's words, but shaking his head, he said,

"No, young man, the town is not a vassal town of the Starks, at least not anymore. When the town was a magical community, it was inhabited mainly by Stark vassals. However, with the disappearance of the last known Lord, the wizards gradually abandoned the town and it began to be inhabited by Muggles," he exclaimed.

Jon shook his head and answered.

"If my ancestors were responsible for the people and failed, then it is part of my duties to honor that pact. We will see how we can help the people. I am sure that there will be problems left over that need attention, right?"

When Jon finished, he began to walk, eager to reach his new home.

"Oh, by the Seven, he has a fucking magical castle all to himself right before his eyes and he worries about an insignificant town and its insignificant people. What a fucking waste," said Aegon IV, to the obvious fury of everyone present.

However, no one deigned to answer his grandson, everyone too focused on Aemon's words and determination, as he had reached the immense walls of Wolf's Den.

"They look much more imposing up close, made with enormous stones, undoubtedly placed with magic and… look at that door. Is that bronze? With runes? Gods, what a wonderful place. I would love to be there and study that incredible castle," said Daeron II excitedly, causing several of those present to laugh softly, while others rolled their eyes with veiled contempt.

"That doesn't look like natural bronze. Of that, I am certain," said Prince Vaegon, leaning forward in his chair and observing everything around him.

"Even so, those doors are colossal. They are at least twenty feet tall, as well as being very thick, and something tells me that not even dragons would be capable of bringing them down," said the old King, watching as Aemon stood before the door and intoned.

"Lord Jon of House Stark orders Wolf's Den to open its doors and receive its lord," Jon shouted before Samuel's incredulous eyes, who, upon hearing him, approached him cautiously before speaking.

"Boy, I don't think it works like that. Maybe some spell or a key is necessary, or maybe…"

The old man did not finish the sentence when the earth began to shake and the walls of the castle began to shine with thousands of runes. The roots of the trees that surrounded the outer wall of the property began to move and, before Samuel's incredulous eyes, the door opened to give access to its lord.

The castle was… eager to receive the young wizard, and it wasn't shy about showing it. To be sure, all accumulated dust disappeared the moment the young Lord put a foot inside the castle, revealing the beautiful inner garden. All the flowers and trees moved and… bowed to the young Lord, who… to Samuel's incredulity, bowed back in respect.

As Jon began to move… braziers and the same magical orbs they had seen on the road began to light up. The Castle itself stirred, welcoming the Young Lord Stark.

"Welcome home, Jon," the young man whispered to himself, and Samuel simply kept silent. It was evident that this moment… was important to Jon, and Samuel had lived long enough to recognize that this boy… hadn't had an easy life.

He could work with this, thought Samuel, at the same time that Jon and he began to walk toward the front door of the castle, a beautiful eight-foot-tall wood-carved door that showed a couple of wolves guarding an amazing tree.

And a second later, the doors opened for the young Lord.

Silence was the only thing reigning in the Observatory. From the Conquering Sisters to their descendant Aegon V, everyone was absolutely stunned by what they were seeing.

Rhaenyra could only open and close her mouth, silently observing this wonderful and magical castle, Aemon's new home.

"Gods," was all the Queen whispered, breaking the spell of silence over the House of the Dragon, and what happened afterward could only be described with a single word.

Chaos.

All the members of House of the Dragon began shouting like headless chickens, standing up and walking around the sphere. The younger ones, such as Princess Daenerys or little Jaehaerys and Jaehaera, looked at the beautiful and enormous halls of Wolf's Den in wonder, amazed by the magic that could be witnessed.

But the older ones…

"By the Gods!! Look… look at that!! It's not fair! Why do the Northerners have this?"

"By the Seven… magic, Real Magic!"

"That should be ours! Those gifts should belong to the House of the Dragon, not some lost house in the frozen wilderness!"

"THEY ARE NOT WORTHY!"

Rhaenyra watched, stunned and incredulous, as the Kings, queens, princes, and princesses became completely insane with envy the moment the Stark Fortress was revealed before their eyes.

To her disappointment, it was always the same thing: that they did not deserve it, that it should be in the possession of House Targaryen.

Pure stupidity, in her humble opinion. However, seeing so much contempt and envy filled her with a single sensation.

Fury.

"SILENCE!" she roared as she stood up. Her shout was so powerful that everyone present obeyed without exception. However, she was so furious that she had to comment on it.

"This… does not belong to House Targaryen!" the Queen spat with determination, pointing a finger at the sphere, which showed Aemon walking through beautiful halls, more luxurious and ethereal than anything she had ever seen in her life, even making Dragonstone look like a pigsty in Rhaenyra's opinion.

"The North has always been looked down upon. Every single one of you kissed the feet of the filthy Andals or the Rhoynar, without giving our most loyal vassals the place they deserved during the short history of House Targaryen, and now… I see this," said the Queen with evident disappointment.

"And now… we see secrets of the First Men, hidden truths that have been revealed to us for some purpose, and the first thing you think about is how unfair life is. We had our gifts, our dragons, and we were stupid enough to lose them," she spat furiously, both at herself and at the rest of her family.

Silence reigned in the room. There were angry looks, but no one dared say anything about it.

Rhaenyra was right, after all.

Aemon and Samuel reached the deepest part of the castle, revealing before them what could only be…

"Merlin!" the old man whispered, stunned and shocked by what he was seeing. His mouth opened and closed, but no words emerged from those lips.

"The White Oak," Jon whispered to himself with a smile as he entered the immense garden.

Although calling it a garden was an understatement. This… this was something more, a sanctuary built around an ancestral tree. An immense vault of stone, magic, and glass. The chamber was supported by delicately carved arches, which protected the immense and powerful tree, while enormous windows allowed the last rays of evening sunlight to enter.

Rhaenyra was in complete shock at what she was seeing, and against her will, envy completely consumed her.

This… this was a Garden worthy of Kings. There was no other way to describe it, at least in her opinion.

"Gods," said her beloved Jace, just as stunned as she was, while they continued watching.

At the center stood the powerful and venerable Oak, with a white, twisted, ancient trunk, its branches extending across the entire ceiling. It was gigantic, the largest Tree he had ever seen in his life. It was even larger than some of Winterfell's towers, and extremely powerful.

Its silver leaves seemed to contain tiny stars, illuminating the chamber with a soft and supernatural clarity. Beneath its roots, a waterfall emerged, descending through several levels until it fed an enormous crystalline pond, where Aemon observed that the Heart of the Tree was located.

And therefore, the Heart of the Castle.

On both sides of the garden stood terraces, galleries, and small stone bridges covered with vegetation, flowers, and fountains. Statues of wolves guarded the paths, while lit lanterns provided a warm golden light among the foliage. Everything seemed designed so that nature, magic, and architecture formed a single structure.

It was… the most beautiful thing Aemon had ever seen in his life.

Everyone present was completely stunned, observing Aemon in utter silence as he ascended through the beautiful garden. The young dragon and the old man walked through the middle of the pond, from which a sort of crystalline platform rose, carrying them both toward the small terrace at the Heart of the Tree.

"What will Aemon do, Mommy?" little Jaehaera asked curiously, cradled in Helaena's arms, but her sister did not answer. She simply watched as Samuel and Aemon walked toward the immense Trunk.

"That tree… is even more impressive than any dragon," the old King whispered, lost in the image displayed by the sphere.

The young Lord inhaled deeply, getting ready to finish the job. Jon used his wand to make a small cut in his hand, before the alarmed look of Samuel, who came to help him. However, before he could do anything, Jon placed his bloody palm directly on the stem of the majestic tree and shouted.

"I, Jon of the Most Noble and Ancient House Stark, ascend as master of Wolf's Den. I swear to honor the allies of our house and tear our enemies to pieces. May the White Oak give me the blessing of Mother Magic to take control of the castle. So be it!"

Jon's eyes looked yellow. The wolf's blood howled loudly, eager for the pact.

The white oak began to glow and, with extraordinary magical force, the tree released a magical pulse that pierced Jon, Samuel, and the castle. They entered the meadows and forests of the Starks. The plants, animals, and magical beings that inhabited the lands felt the earth tremble. They knew what it meant: the oak had judged a new lord as worthy.

The castle had a new master, and the princes of winter were back.

And then… everything became Black, at the same time two voices talked, a man and a woman.

"Welcome home, Son"

And then, Silence.

Including the sphere.

"Shit! Again with this pauses, for fuck sake" Aerion spat before throwing his wine cup toward the floor and walking away from the place, while disappointed sighs appeared from all around.

Rhaenyra could understand them. She was equally anxious to know what the fuck was going to happen now.

Alas, apparently, the Goddess had other plans.

The twin Dragon statues lit up again, but this time… something else happened…

A third statue… one of a Wolf… appeared above the entrance threshold, something that had never happened before.

"Interesting," said her grandfather Baelon, frowning and standing up to receive whoever had arrived.

Rhaenyra could barely wait.