The Dragon & The Wolf - XXX (Patreon)

Chapter XXX: Legends

For thousands of years, mothers in the North whispered to their children bedtime tales of the wildlings. They were the terror of commonfolk across the lands between the Gift and the Neck, and northerners knew those living beyond the Wall as savages, raiders, rapers, more beast than man. From Greywater Watch to Last Hearth, Widow’s Watch to Deepwood Motte, lords trembled whenever a King-Beyond-the-Wall was declared.  

Arthur Stark knew them all, and as he had ridden to Castle Black at the head of the largest army the North had seen since Torrhen Stark had assembled his banners against the Conqueror, Aegon, Arthur had taught the names and the stories of the five Kings-Beyond-the-Wall that had threatened the North in the past.

The First of them had been the Legendary Joramun, a contemporary of the infamous Night King, the Thirteenth Lord Commander of the Night’s Watch, who, according to Legends, had been a Stark. Joramun and the King of Winter, Brandon the Breaker had allied themselves in order to defeat the Night King of the Night’s Watch. Joramun, despite being a King Beyond the Wall, had not been an enemy of the North, but he had been the exception.
The brothers Gendel and Gorne were joint kings some three thousand years ago. They made a tunnel under the Wall and invaded the North. Gorne managed to slay the Stark king but was killed by his son and heir. Gendel and the remaining wildling army were killed by the armies of the Starks, the Night's Watch, and the Umbers. The battle had been so bloody that the wildlings had not unite again for two thousand years, it was the time it took them to regrow their number sufficiently.

Not many things are known about the fourth King Beyond the Wall, all Arthur knew was that he had been named the "Horn Lord", probably because he had been a part of the Hornfoots clan. According to legends, he had used magic to cross the Wall, but Arthur did not believe any of this, for there had been no record of any battle that had taken place in the North, and the Horn Lord’s invasion was supposed to have started a thousand years after the rule of Gendel and Gorne.

The Fifth King Beyond the Wall had surprised Cregan, for according to Arthur, he had been one of their very own ancestors; Bael the Bard.

Bael the Bard was a famous bard, raider and womanizer. According to wildling legend, he went to Winterfell as a bard and impregnated the only daughter of their King, forcing the latter to legitimize his grandson in order to obtain an heir. When he became King Beyond the Wall, he led the wildlings against the Wall, where he was killed by his own son, who had in turn, become King of Winter. Unfortunately, the Old Gods are always severe towards kinslayers, even the ones unaware of their crimes. The Half-wildling Stark King ended up being skinned by the Boltons in their centuries-long struggle for dominance with the Starks.

Cregan had been more than a little disturbed by this tale, had their House become nothing more than a bunch of wildlings pretending to be Starks?

When he asked this question to Arthur, his cousin had laughed:

"Bael the Bard was one of our ancestors out of hundreds of heroes and Kings, he lived and died almost five hundred years ago. Since the Dawn Age, our family has married among the Umbers, the Karstarks, the Manderlys, even the Boltons, the Mormonts and the Forresters. You and I might have a drop of wilding blood flowing through our veins, but it means nothing. Blood is blood, it does not make you stronger or weaker, what matters is our name, Cregan. We’re Starks. We carry the legacy of the Kings of Winter, as well as their blood and achievements. The Old Gods themselves, have blessed both of us with a direwolf as a companion. No one will take this away from us. And we had worse ancestors than Bael the Bard."

Reassured by those words and more determined than he had ever been, Cregan had accomplished all the duties that had been required of a page or squire since they had arrived in Castle Black.

For days, Cregan took care of the horses, polished armors, sharpened swords, cleaned the stables and the kitchen, even Giant helped by acting as a Shepard dog with all the cattle the Northern Lords had brought to keep their men fed. Cregan did not like chores, but if he was unable to get his hands dirty, then he had no right demanding others to do so for him.
Today, after he was done with his duties, he began searching for Arthur, for such was the Regent’s instruction. Once he was out of chores, he needed to be at his cousin’s side to watch and learn.

Once one of the black brothers had informed him that he had gone atop the Wall, Cregan had gotten inside the iron cage with Giant by his side and asked one of the Rangers to get him atop the Wall with the winch. The man looked like he did not like the idea to use the winch for a child, but Giant’s presence at Cregan’s side seemed to be convincing enough, for he slapped the mule’s arse to activate the mechanism.

The ascension was long and slow, but Cregan enjoyed it nonetheless, the view from the iron cage was beautiful, it made him feel even smaller than he was, he had a hard time believing that the land he would rule one day was far vaster than what was before his eyes. How could one man rule upon hundreds of thousands?

According to Arthur, he did not, not really, not officially, he ruled upon his banner men, who in turn, ruled upon their own banner men, it was through this hierarchy that the balance was maintained. A Warden needed to make sure that his most powerful banner men were kept into the fold, that was how he could maintain his authority throughout the North.

Cregan eyed the tents set up by the soldiers beyond Castle Black. It was hard to imagine himself as a Lord when one was as small as him, even Arthur was not as tall as his Umber friend. It was also his cousin's favorite argument to force him to eat his vegetables:

"If you don't finish your plate, the North will remember you as Cregan the Runt."

Needless to say, Cregan had never failed to eat everything he was given, even if the food was sometimes disgusting.

The screeching of a cog was heard, and the heir to Winterfell turned to find that he had reached the top of the Wall.

And it was when he got out of the cage that he realized there was another problem, which side to go?

The Wall was three hundred miles long, if Cregan took the wrong direction, he could end up wandering for a long time before realizing his mistake.

Luckily for him, Giant had not left him, and if Arthur was at the top of the Wall, Shadow must have been nearby.

At once, the brown Wolf sniffed the air and dashed towards his brother with Cregan on his heels.

However, neither the wolf nor the master could run on a surface as slippery as the top of the Wall, so both advanced cautiously, passing black brothers and Northmen who were busy preparing the defenses for the coming invasion.

Cregan found Arthur standing in the middle of the Wall, arms crossed, wrapped in his wolfskin coat, with Ice clinging to his back, his gaze lost in the horizon.

Shadow had found a corner sheltered from the wind in which he had begun a nap, but Giant's arrival woke him and he came to meet him.

Cregan frowned, Arthur's gaze was lost to the South, not the North. Did he expect the wildlings to have found a way to take them from behind?

He cleared his throat to make his presence known. Arthur looked surprised to see him.

"Is there a problem?"

"No, I just finished my chores."

Arthur frowned, then he looked at the Sun to realize how late in the afternoon it was.

"I didn't realize it was this late."He admitted.

"Why were you looking South?"

Arthur snorted at the question, or perhaps it was the seriousness with which Cregan had asked it that had him laughing.

"I was thinking of someone."Was the vague answer the heir to Winterfell got.

It was useless for the latter to ask who this 'someone' could be, however, because Arthur categorically refused to answer any questions about Princess Rhaenyra.

"What do you think of the Wall?"Arthur asked, eager to change the subject.

"It's impressive."Cregan enthused. "It's hard to believe Brandon Stark built something like this! With the Wall, the wildlings don't stand a chance!"

He smiled at his cousin, but the latter did not return it, Arthur’s face was solemn, almost sad and severe.

"How many times have the wildlings breached the Wall?"He asked, his tone neutral.

Cregan lined his mouth, and started remembering what the regent had taught him.
"Twice."Was his answer.

"Once."Arthur corrected. "The Night King was not a Wildling. But since it has happened once, it can happen again. Never underestimate your opponent. We know nothing about this ‘Daggon Head-Snatcher’, but if he has managed to unite all the Wildling tribes through strength alone, than this is a kind of opponent we’ve never faced before."

Cregan nodded dutifully, though, a question was on the tip of his tongue, which Arthur saw.

"What is it?"

"You never told me what had happened to the Night King."The heir pointed out. "Who killed him?"

Arthur rose both his eyebrows, then he turned North, towards the forest.

"Who said anything about him being killed? Had anyone killed him, we would know his name. He was the thirteenth Lord Commander of the Night’s Watch after all, and we know the names of the first twelve. No… I think he got away… somehow."

The Regent’s face turned hard, his grey eyes pierced the wind and snow as if there was nothing he hated nor feared more. He took a deep breath.

"The Night King… He was one of us, a Stark. Of this I am sure."

Cregan could not believe his ears.

"How can you know if everyone forgot his name?"

Arthur smiled a cold smile.

"His name has not been forgotten, it has been erased. Because our ancestors discovered that he had sacrificed children to the Others."

A cold wind blew the faces of the two Starks, sending chills down the spine of the youngest. 

"But… The Others are not real…"

Arthur stopped smiling, his skeptical gaze fell on Cregan.

"Do you think that Brandon the Builder built this Wall to prevent the wildlings from entering our lands? A Seven hundred feet tall and three hundred miles long Wall, built to protect us from Wildlings? I don’t believe so, otherwise he would have been the one who would have built Moat Cailin as well. And would have added defenses just as formidable on our eastern and western shores. This Wall serves a purpose far more important than defending us against wildlings."

Cregan frowned, then he too looked north. He did not like the lands Beyond the Wall, they looked even grimmer and colder than their own. 

"Why would the Night King sacrifice children to the Others, if they were real?"

"Mayhaps it had something to do with sorcery."Arthur admitted to his cousin’s dismay. "All I know is this: he fell in love with a woman he saw from the top of the Wall. This woman had skin white as the moon and eyes like blue stars, and her skin was cold as ice, but the Night King was fearless, he chased her, caught her and loved her. That woman… Legends deemed her the ‘Corpse Queen’, I believe she was an Other herself."

Cregan grimaced in disgust, the more he learned, the less he wanted to know.

"How could one of us love an Other?"He almost spat. "How could anyone love an Other?"

Arthur patted his cousin’s shoulder.

"Love is complicated. It makes us do things we would never think about doing. You’ll see when you’ll be a man, you’ll see what women can make us do."

Cregan rose an eyebrow.

"What did the Princess make you do?"

Arthur stopped smiling, then he sighed.

"Nothing… It’s…"He sighed again. "What do you want to know?"

Cregan was actually surprised, he had asked without expecting an answer, knowing how Arthur reacted whenever Rhaenyra Targaryen was mentioned. But apparently, the regent would make an effort for him.

"Did you love her?"

"Aye."The answer came far too easily.

"Did she love you?"

"Aye."

Cregan frowned in confusion.

"Then why didn’t you marry each other?"

"Because she is the heir to the Throne, our future Queen. And since she is a woman, her claim will be challenged, that is why she needs a proper alliance, that’ll bring her gold, influence and armies. I’m no one, Cregan, I’ll inherit nothing. If Rhaenyra and I had been foolish enough to ignore the Lords of the Seven Kingdoms and marry no matter what they believed. Then both her and I would have lost everything, be it through war or through a Great Council. You should listen well, Cregan, because this concerns you too. As the future Warden of the North, your marriage will have to be one that will benefit the North. No matter wether you find your future spouse attractive or not."

Cregan looked appalled, and Arthur could not blame him.

"Such is the burden of a Lord, luckily for you, Wardens often get to marry the best girls from the most prestigious families. Your hand in marriage is a great prize, for us, Starks, have ruled over the North for eight thousand years. No matter how plain our lands might look to others, our name commands respect."

Cregan, though he understood his cousin’s words, was not sure if he should feel better about this. Arthur understood, his cousin was still a child, he has not yet experienced men’s lust and attraction for women.

As the little boy thought over the regent’s words, something came to his mind, the shadow of guilt passed on his gaze.

"What is it?"Arthur asked.

"Do you… resent me?"

The older Stark’s eyebrows shot to the sky.

"Why in the name of the Gods would I resent you?"

Cregan swayed from one foot to the other, fear had added itself to his guilty look.

"Because… if I had not been born… then you would have been the heir to Winterfell… You could have married her… and then…

"Cregan!"

The little boy jumped in fright, Arthur had never risen his voice against him, hearing him express his anger was a scarring contrast with his usual cold and solemn attitude.

Arthur took a deep breath to calm his nerves, and put a knee to the ground and a hand on his cousin’s shoulder.

"Listen to me."He said, his voice soft and reassuring. "I will never, ever, trade you, not for a lordship nor a marriage, ever. You’re my cousin, my blood, my brother before the three twats that believe themselves to be wolves but act like rats. I would rather protect my pack than to succumb to greed and ambition. You must never, ever, forget this, and make sure you teach it to your children. There is nothing more important than our pack."

Cregan threw himself in his cousin’s arms, hiding his tears of relief in his wolf’s pelt, Arthur closed his arms around him and allowed him to weep, he was still a child, there was no need to be too severe.

After all, they both knew their words, the words that kept the Starks together for eight millennia.

"When the snows fall and the white wind blows, the lone wolf dies but the pack survives."

(-)(-)(-)

Sara Snow was upset, and when Sara Snow was upset, she did what she always did to distract herself from the turmoil in her head; she went hunting.

She had not done so in a while, mostly because Arthur had told her she was hunting too often. Because of this, she had brought far too much game in Winterfell, making her cousin sell the surplus to the butchers in Wintertown, and forbidding her from hunting for at least a moon. 

"We have the direwolves."He had said. "And they hunt as well, just like the trappers and hunters from the many houses around the Wolfswood. If everyone was doing as you’re doing, we’d need to rename it the ‘Windswood’, for they’d be nothing else."

Sara had been upset, but no more upset than she had been since her father had been poisoned. Arthur had not been wrong, she had gone hunting more often than usual, but she could not help it, hunting had always eased her mind. Here, in those woods, she could be herself, she could be a shewolf and not give a damn about anything else. Especially now that her cousin had gone to the Wall and was not here to tell her what to do.

Sara was a good huntress, had been since she was twelve. Her Father had placed a bow in her hands when she was six and she never stopped practicing.

Wearing a grey wolf’s pelt, she had been hiding next to the largest tree she had find next to a clearing. She waited patiently, there was a river here so she expected deers or boars to step into the light. She was in no hurry, the Wolfswood had an appeasing atmosphere, it did wonders for her nerves, even the howling of wolves was comforting.

When a deer finally showed itself out of the woods, Sara drew her arrow and got ready. All she needed to do was wait until the animal reached the river and lowered itself to drink, then it would expose its side and Sara would shoot its heart.
But the deer never reached the river.

The first thing Sara noticed was the wind's increasing force, it was so violent it blew her own hair into her face.

Before she could even regain her sight, a roar more monstrous than anything she had ever heard echoed through the branches, paralyzing her on the spot. It sent shivers down her spine and made her eyes widen in terror.

The creature behind this display of power seemed to appear out of nowhere, Sara barely had time to catch a glimpse of a yellow silhouette before it did the impossible and set the deer ablaze, which had barely had time to turn around. The poor animal jumped aimlessly, screaming in pain as its skin burned like a torch. The monster closed its jaws on its prey before she could even make a third jump, and crushed it as easily as a raspberry between its teeth.

Then the beast finally put its paws on the ground, causing a tremor that reverberated down to Snow's legs. She had stopped breathing, horrified by what she had witnessed.

A dragon, it could only be a dragon. Sara, who had only ever seen these mythical beasts in books, could not contain the wonder and terror that the materialization of the drawings she had admired as a child inspired in her.

However, she closed her mouth when she saw a silver-haired figure slide off the creature's back and stretch, visibly suffering from aches and pains in her thighs.

The rider was young, about Sara's age herself, she was wearing a visibly well-padded leather outfit and a coat made of animal fur that Sara could not identify, in any case, it was neither wolf nor bear.

It only took her a few seconds to make the connection, which was more than confirmed when she saw the three-headed dragon that the stranger proudly displayed on her chest.

Her wonder and terror suddenly gave way to annoyance and dismay, with perhaps a hint of satisfaction at finally meeting the one-whose-name-must-not-be-spoken-in-the-presence-of-his-lordship-the-regent.

Almost forgetting the fire-breathing monster that was feasting on its prey, she came out from behind her tree and advanced in the open towards the dragon rider who had turned her back to search her bag.

She realized her mistake, however, when the dragon immediately abandoned its meal to keep her at a distance with a warning roar. The dragon rider instantly turned around and her eyes met Sara's.

The first thing Rhaenyra Targaryen did when she saw her was to frown, then she looked at her bow with suspicion. Realizing her mistake, Sara slowly put her arrow back in her quiver and put her bow away.

Satisfied by this act of good faith, Rhaenyra straightened her back and looked her up and down.

"You stand in the presence..."

"... of the woman who seduced my cousin."Sara finished without showing the slightest sign of fear despite the knots in her stomach.

She would not give in to fear, not here, not in her woods, not in the land of her ancestors.

Her audacity and the information she gave her took Rhaenyra by surprise, her eyes widening in shock. Sara crossed her arms under her chest.

"Glad to finally be able to put a face to the name of the one he refuses to talk about."

The bastard was pleased by the unease she saw appear on the dragon rider's face. However, she kept from smiling.

"Listen, Lady Stark..."

At these words, Sara couldn't contain a burst of laughter.

"I've always dreamed of being called that."She said sincerely. "But I'm just a bastard, Princess, my name is Sara Snow."

Rhaenyra raised an eyebrow in surprise, before her face suddenly darkened.

"You are indeed Arthur's blood."She commented. "How is he?"

"Hard to say. He does his duty, he acts as a Lord, but it's obvious that you're on his mind. It's for him that you came, isn't it? You crossed half the Realm to see him again... You realize that he's not necessarily going to be happy, he's been a little unpredictable lately."

Rhaenyra grimaced, Sara could see the shame in her eyes.

"And how is Lord Rickon?"

It was the bastard's face turn to darken.

"Still alive, but the maester thinks that won't last. Soon he'll die..."

"I'm sorry."

"I believe you. Why have you come exactly?"

Rhaenyra didn't hesitate to answer, which surprised Sara.

"I came to ask Arthur to forgive me, and..."She sighed. "...I wanted to see him again."

Sara looked at her for a few seconds with a wary look.

"Usually southerners dip their words in honey before spitting them in our faces."

"Arthur was a good influence on me."Rhaenyra replied with a smile.

Sara shared the smile.

"I see that... You know, I wanted to hunt the stag your dragon ate."

Rhaenyra glanced at Syrax, who was loudly chewing the quarters of meat she tore from her prey.

"One could consider that poaching."The bastard pointed out.

Rhaenyra snorted.

"I think that's the only thing I'm sure Arthur will forgive me for, it's the rest that worries me."

"Is that so? Then perhaps you'll agree to tell me a little about what happened down south, the Lord Regent refused to even mention your name."

These words dealt a terrible blow to Rhaenyra's morale, who felt terror and anxiety wrap themselves around her heart.

She swallowed, shook her head, and replied: 

"I... I doubt Arthur would like it, and I mean no offense, but I don't know you. I'm not about to share my sorrows with a stranger."

Sara rolled her eyes.

"I guess I can't blame you."She grumbled. "You're both just as stuck up as each other."

Rhaenyra instantly regained her smile and snorted.

"Don't exaggerate, Arthur still has so much to teach me."

Sara laughed back.

"I believe you."She glanced at the dragon who had finished eating his stag. "If it's Winterfell you're looking for, you're a little too far west."

A sigh of relief escaped Rhaenyra's lips.

"Thanks... I... I was having a bit of trouble getting my bearings. Ever since I passed Moat Cailin..."

She paused, cleared her throat, and continued:

"I know the map of Westeros by heart, but the North... is... wide."

"You mean everything looks the same?"Sara quipped.

"I mean I'm a Southerner."Rhaenyra replied, dodging her trap.

"I noticed... I also noticed the dust you're covered in. Where did you sleep? And why don't you have a guard?"

Rhaenyra gritted her teeth, she had planned to tell Winterfell this, but she supposed she could answer a few questions, after all, she had entered the North uninvited. Having an ally could come in handy when the time came for her to introduce herself to the Northerners.

"My journey is... not official. I flew away."

Sara's eyes widened in surprise.

"Are you serious?"

"Yes... I wanted... to see Arthur and I knew my father would object so... I avoided castles and inns, I slept inside caves and under trees, always near my dragon."

Sara laughed even harder.

"I don't know whether to admire you or believe you to be crazy. Should we expect a southern army to attempt to cross Moat Cailin?"

"I doubt it, it's not my father's way."

"Good. Then I imagine you must be tired of sleeping in the dust. Despite your situation, I doubt the castellan of Winterfell would refuse you hospitality."

Rhaenyra took a few seconds to digest this information.

"The castellan? Arthur..."

"... is at the Wall. The wildlings have united behind a new King Beyond the Wall. Arthur and all the Northern Lords have gone to fight them. There is war up there in the north, although the southerners have never been interested in it."

Rhaenyra remained speechless, with everything that had happened to her, it had completely slipped her mind. But she remembered now, her father had warned her. The wildlings were marching south, and Arthur had gone to fight them... Rhaenyra did not remember all the lessons that Grand Maester Runciter had taught her, one detail suddenly came back to her mind about the wars that had opposed the Starks to the wildlings: some Lords of Winterfell had perished during these battles.

Fear must have been written all over her face, because Sara added.

"You intend to go? Seriously?"

Hearing her thoughts being voiced surprised Rhaenyra for a second, go? To the Wall? Fight on her dragon alongside Arthur? It was foolish. She knew it, and yet... If she had been a man, it would have seemed perfectly normal. But it was not for glory that all her senses urged her to fly to the Wall, no. Arthur, her beloved wolf was an honorable fool. She knew, deep in herself that he would put himself at risk, in the vanguard, leading his men to battle. Sacrificing everything for duty. She could not let it happen, she would not let it happen. Not while she was so close to him.

"Listen..."Sara said, startling Rhaenyra and pulling her out of her thoughts. "This is stupid. Arthur has a plan, he has an army and the Wall, if you show up out of nowhere you'll get in his way."

"I'm not stupid. I'll only go to offer my help if it's needed, I'll stay out of the way if not."

Sara rolled her eyes.

"Arthur will be furious."

"I don't care."

This time, Sara couldn't hold it in any longer, she grabbed his wrist but a roar from Syrax made her jump and stagger backwards, so that she ended up on her butt.

The bastard waited a few terrifying seconds to make sure the dragon wouldn't eat her, before turning back to Rhaenyra.

"Why are you doing this? You crazy or something? What will happen if you die? Do you even know what consequences the North..."

"I don't care!"Rhaenyra screamed. "I'm not going to sit here and do nothing while that idiot plays the hero and dies for duty like he dreams of, I won't give him that chance!"

With that, she got back on the saddle under the exasperated and horrified gaze of Sara Snow.

"Why?!"The bastard screamed in anger. "Why are you doing this?!"

Rhaenyra stopped, her gaze met Sara's, she softened for a moment, which was enough for all her emotions to rise to her mouth.

Why? She had asked herself this question so many times. She practically knew the answer by heart, which was probably why it came to her so naturally.

"Because he's all I have."

The confession nearly made her cry.

"I was alone, surrounded by greedy and lustful bastards who wanted my Valyrian womb for their offspring! My father had entrusted me with the throne but I didn't know what to do with it, I didn't know how to play this damned game! Arthur is the only one... The only man who came to my aid, who never betrayed me, who gave me everything I needed without ever asking for anything in return! I..."

She hiccuped, swallowing her tears.

"I ended up loving him, I couldn't help it. I love him so much... But I was so stupid!"

She had uttered this last word with such fury that Sara almost took a step back.

"I didn't listen to him."Rhaenyra confessed, her tears now flowing freely down her cheeks. "I wanted to give him everything, but I destroyed everything. He doesn’t know…"

She gritted her teeth, swallowing her pain.

"He doesn’t know he is not alone, and I have a debt and a duty to him. I will not fail him again."

With her piece said, she took off, leaving the bastard alone in the clearing, watching her disappear into the sky.

"I swear to the Gods…"Sara grumbled once Rhaenyra had been gone from her sight. "She is as careless and stubborn as Arthur."

(-)(-)(-)

Night had fallen for almost an hour, Arthur Stark yawned like a seal, although he had done nothing all day except supervise the defense preparations, he felt exhausted. He had spent most of the time in his thoughts, thinking about the lessons he had given Cregan and those he would give him in the future.

His thoughts drifted to the Night King, and his Corpse Queen.

He had been careful not to reveal too many details to Cregan, his little cousin did not need to know all the details of the abominable legends surrounding the worst enemies in the history of the Northmen.

Was the Corpse Queen an Other? Arthur was convinced of it, according to the legend, when the Night King gave her his seed, he also gave her his soul. However, some details had left more questions than answers... And all these questions revolved around the Others.

If Arthur believed the tales of his ancestors, then the ice demons known as the 'White Walkers' had never died, since the Night King had married one and offered sacrifices to her kind.

But if these legends were true, what had become of them? More than eight thousand years had passed since the fall of the Night King, and even more since the Long Night. Had he been mistaken, had he given too much credence to the tales of his ancestors? Eight thousand years...

He turned his head to the right, then to the left to observe the wall, this gigantic structure built by Brandon the Builder, what purpose would it serve if not to separate the Lands of Always Winter from the rest of Westeros?

And then what had these creatures wanted? What could ice monsters possibly wish to obtain to practice such dark magic and carry out such massacres? So many questions... So many gray areas.

He had devoured every book in the Winterfell library about the Age of Heroes, the Dawn Age and the Long Night. But he felt so ignorant, so naive.

His thoughts returned to the Corpse Queen, and for some reason he couldn't help but compare her to Rhaenyra.

In a way, the Night King and the Corpse Queen were like Rhaenyra and him. A man and a woman from two completely different worlds, the woman by her nature had led the man away from his duty, out of love for her, he had given up everything he had ever stood for. Even though Rhaenyra was far from being a demon who would have torn his soul from him, Arthur couldn't help but wonder what would have happened if he had spilled his seed into her.

What would have become of them? Would Rhaenyra have married a great Lord to pretend that the child was not Arthur's? In that case, Arthur would have had no choice but to serve her for the rest of his life, if only to protect his child. He would have given up his duty, his pack, he would have been nothing more than a servant. He must never let Rhaenyra take him, never.

Yet, the Gods alone know how much he desired her, so much so that he wondered if he even could  despise the Night King.

"Women."He thought, as a light suddenly emanated from the forest and pierced the darkness, tearing the regent from his tortuous thoughts.

Then another came, and another, and another. As Arthur watched in amazement, the forest flared up, lighting up the night and the Wall as if dawn had come hours too soon.

Arthur couldn't help but snort in awe as he realized what was happening. The sound of horns and the cries of panic and warning only made the smile on his face stretch as he sensed the approaching danger.

"Why bother attacking us at night if you give us the light we both need to see? Unless..."

He glanced south as Rogar Umber and Geralt Forrester ran towards him.

Arthur raised a finger to silence them.

"Geralt, take your men and watch the surroundings of Castle Black, it's possible that the wildlings have found a way to take us in a pincer movement."

"How could they have done that?!"Rogar almost spat in disbelief.

"What makes you say that?"Geralt asked, and Arthur answered him.

"Why bother attacking us at night if they need to set the forest ablaze to see us? No, it's a diversion, the south must be protected. Go Geralt."

Forrester nodded and left, Rogar gritted his teeth.

"Are you sure about this?"

"Castle Black has no walls."Arthur reminded him. "And we have two thousand men. It's not a risk to sacrifice three hundred to cover our rear."

Umber nodded, then stretched his arms as the fire grew.

"You ready to meet your ancestors, Stark?"He sneered.

"Why wouldn’t I be?"Arthur laughed. "There are worse ways to die."

 AN: Lots of people believe that Bael the Bard lived during Aegon’s Conquest because Ygritte called his "cough"‘Father in law’ and his son ‘Lord’, and because Saera Targaryen said that she wanted to marry the "King Beyond the wall"without actually naming said King in the year 81, readers believed that this unnamed King could be Bael. But the Stark Family Tree is far too detailed for this to be true. Plus, the rules of the different Kings beyond the Wall were all separated by centuries if not millennia. Probably because the Free Folk always lost great numbers attacking the Wall and needed time to breed enough warriors to try again. 

I believe that Saera must have heard or read somewhere that wildlings had Kings, and believed, like the storm landers in a Dance with Dragons, that the title was hereditary like with every Westerosi King, thus, she must have believed that there always was a King beyond the Wall like there’s always been at least one King in Westeros. 

Regarding Ygritte, she was born nearly 300 years after the Starks had lost their Crown and is still quite young in A Clash of Kings, mayhaps she did not know whether the Lord of Winterfell at the time of Bael had also been the King in the North.

That’s why I made Bael live 500 years ago before the Dance.

Yes, Arthur kinda speaks like Tywin (and Corlys) about family, House and Legacy, Tywin is my favorite character in the show, and deep down, he is not completely wrong.

The Night King is FAR more fascinating in the books than he is in the Show, so are the Others. GRRM describes him as "a legendary figure, akin to Lann the Clever and Brandon the Builder, and no more likely to have survived to the present day than they have."Which is why he does not exist in ASOIAF, at least in this era. But everything about him is fascinating and I’m pissed at what they did to him in the Show. 

In the Show, Samwell read about the ‘youngest lord Commander in history’, Osrick Stark. Who became Lord Commander at 10. He is the best candidate to be the Night King in the show, as his young age would explain how he ended up falling in love with a "corpse Queen"once he hit puberty. It is never mentioned whether the Night King had turned into an Other or not, but his name has only been erased after the Starks discovered that he had sacrificed children to the Others. It’s possible he never was despite his apparent ‘sorcery’. But things are not so certain regarding his Corpse Queen.

Is the Night King alive in this story? If he is, you won’t be seeing him, sorry. But Let me know what you think about his legend and the legend of the Others.

Mance Rayder’s Bonfire was an excellent strategy to attack the Wall at Night in the show, in the books, the attack lasted for days. ‘The Watchers on the Wall' is one of my favorite episodes, I think I find the battle in the Show more realistic than the one in the books. GRRM himself admitted that no arrow could reach the black brothers on the Wall, they were far too high, the battle made more sense in the show.