Ghostrider0002
patreon
-Chapter 121-
🕑 Added 2024-12-21 16:35:11 +0000 UTC-Chapter 121-
-POV Aemon Targaryen-
When I landed outside the gates of Winterfell, a symbol of power, grandeur, and above all, the long and rich history of House Stark, I let out a slight sigh.
Unlike the other visits I had paid to Rickon Stark, this one would not be a friendly one.
‘I love the feeling this place gives off; it’s so peaceful yet wild at the same time,’ I thought before adding mentally, ‘But I could never live in a place this cold.’
I grabbed the pair of gloves strapped to the back of my saddle and put them on.
The temperature, already cold in the North, had been dropping steadily since the start of this year, and this was true throughout the kingdom.
‘Winter is coming,’ I thought, smiling slightly at my own joke, referencing House Stark’s words.
I then began unfastening myself from my saddle and chains.
Once I was free, it was Cregan’s turn.
While I worked on the task, I observed the great gates of Winterfell slowly opening.
After a few moments, I noticed a small group of people waiting by the gates of the magnificent millennia-old fortress.
When I finished unfastening Cregan, I dismounted and found Aegon, already excited to see Winterfell for the first time after all the stories Cregan and I had told him about this place.
I ran a hand through his hair before taking the lead of our small group to meet the one led by Rickon and Bennard Stark.
Before I could say anything, everyone bowed to us, though I could see some were more reluctant than others.
‘Understandable, considering only two houses truly benefit from my aid and influence,’ I thought, ready to begin the second phase of my plan to tighten the iron grip with which I held the North by the throat.
‘Whether House Stark agrees or not,’ I added, observing the unusually tense faces of the Stark brothers.
‘I’ve become the North’s primary supplier of provisions. Without me, they’d return to the days of starving and freezing,’ I thought, as I also sold them large quantities of coal at a bargain price.
“Lord Rickon,” I said, nodding and gesturing for everyone to rise.
“Prince Aemon, as always, it is an honor for House Stark to welcome a prince of House Targaryen,” he replied in a tone filled with respect.
‘Too respectful, as if he wanted to set a boundary between us,’ I noticed, though it didn’t surprise me.
I knew the reason behind this sudden aloofness.
“You’ll notice that this time, the honor is doubled,” I said, joking lightly.
Rickon gave what seemed to be a small smile, then bowed more deeply to Aegon and said, “Your Highness.”
Aegon nodded, maintaining a neutral expression.
‘He’s growing up fast,’ I thought, watching him try to imitate my actions.
Rickon Stark gestured for us to follow him, and we did, weaving through the crowd of lords.
I said to my host, “As every year, I bring your son back safe and sound. I wouldn’t say in one piece, as Ser Harrold was relentless in teaching them the importance of never…”
“…never letting your opponent know your next move,” the two young Stark brothers finished in unison, grinning.
I smiled, hearing them. We had spent a great deal of time together.
‘Maybe too much,’ I thought, as I had grown far too attached to them. I was no longer thinking about what they would become in the future but about who they were today.
‘They’re just children, and by treating them like little brothers, I’ve fallen into my own trap,’ I noted silently.
I had fully integrated them into our little family life, to the point that they even shared a certain fascination with Viserys.
‘They even bet on when he would start walking,’ I recalled, thinking of the argument that almost broke out when Viserys tried to stand in his crib.
‘But that changes nothing,’ I thought, as no one could stand in my way, no matter who they were or what ties bound us.
In this kind of game, sentimentality had no place.
“At least your captain’s methods seem to be working,” said Bennard Stark.
“He’s not my captain,” I replied automatically, slightly distracted by my thoughts.
Bennard stammered, trying to apologize as he sensed the change in my tone: “I’m sorry. I thought he was during your grandfather’s time, so I assumed…”
“It’s fine; you’re partly correct,” I said, raising a hand to calm him.
“Ser Harrold was the captain of my grandfather’s personal guard and remained so during much of my early years as the head of House Royce. But he was on the decline, and I believe that position should only be held by someone in perfect condition,” I explained matter-of-factly.
My sincerity seemed to surprise the two Stark brothers.
Although we were allies and shared many common interests, we weren’t close enough to confide in each other.
‘We’ll need to get closer, though, if I plan to bring a Northern girl back for Viserys once he’s old enough to be betrothed,’ I thought. The idea of having grandchildren with Northern traits crossed my mind more and more often.
‘With my new abilities, I could identify those with special lineages or unique talents,’ I considered.
‘Whether it’s the Umber’s size, the ability to warg, or even greenseeing, these traits could change the face of a battle, a war, or even a reign for my descendants.’
‘But for now, it’s just an idea,’ I thought, as Viserys wasn’t even a year old. Fifteen years remained before deciding his marriage, and the thought of betrothing him to Helaena, bonded to Dreamfyre, had not entirely left me.
“You dismissed him?” Bennard Stark asked cautiously.
I smiled, finding the idea ridiculous, before answering:
“No, of course not. I decided to grant him a status that reflected both the trust I have in him and the importance he holds in my eyes.”
“Master-at-arms,” Rickon Stark guessed confidently.
“Hmm,” I acknowledged with a nod.
We continued discussing various topics until we reached the doors of the Great Hall.
Aegon and I were invited to partake of bread and salt, respecting the sacred rights of hospitality, before we all took our seats at the table.
“I sense some tension since my arrival. Is there something you wish to tell me?” I asked, picking up a slice of sausage.
‘One from home,’ I thought, recognizing Hugh’s handiwork or that of one of his apprentices who had likely opened a butcher shop in the North under our banner.
‘The expansion of my businesses has been so rapid this year that even I struggle to keep up at times,’ I reflected, pleased with the progress of my plan to infiltrate the kingdom’s commercial networks.
“I received your letter…”
“Which one? I’ve sent you several,” I interrupted, prompting him to be more specific.
Rickon observed me for a moment before saying: “We are commercial allies. I would never betray His Grace, King Viserys.”
I smiled mockingly, leaning closer to him, and responded in a falsely light tone:
“Are you implying that I might?”
“I’m not implying anything. But what you’ve done will be considered treason by the king,” he retorted carefully, mindful of the many ears around us, including those of his wife and father-in-law.
‘An embittered old man, brimming with ambition but with little achievement beyond marrying his daughter to the heir of Winterfell,’ I thought, utterly unimpressed despite his towering stature.
“So, you’re saying that since the king will consider my marriage treason — because that’s what we’re discussing — you’ll back out?” I asked, cutting off any potential excuses.
“I never promised to become a rebel,” he stated.
‘How can he say that with a straight face? He always knew I intended to push Aegon forward and needed his support against the main branch,’ I thought, almost admiring his audacity.
‘Now that his people are fed and his granaries full of coal, he seriously believes he still has a choice,’ I mused.
I chuckled coldly and said: “And what if I decided to take your cowardice for betrayal?”
The hand holding his wine froze mid-air, and his gaze shifted dramatically. “Is that a threat?” he asked.
“Such big words,” I replied, smiling as I softened my expression. Then, in a tone low enough for only him and his brother to hear, I murmured:
“We both know what we committed to when we sealed our pact. Neither of us expected to profit in gold.”
Rickon remained silent, while Bennard watched us with visible worry. Unlike his brother, he made no effort to hide the fear that shone clearly in his eyes.
“I’m tired,” I said, rising, signaling the end of our conversation.
“Someone will show you to your quarters,” Bennard quickly interjected, noticing his brother still distracted by my words.
‘Rickon likely thought I had too many enemies to force him to keep his word,’ I thought.
‘Now that I’ve shown my fangs, this is no time to appear weak. I must tighten the screws on everyone,’ I resolved.
Before leaving the Great Hall, I turned to the Stark brothers and said in a voice only they could hear, drowned out by the Nordmen too busy drinking and feasting to care about the tension at the high table:
“Oh, and just so you know, I never make threats. If you ever betray me, you’ll end up like Arnold.”
Their eyes widened.
Though everyone suspected it, I had just openly admitted my actions. Fear burned even brighter in their eyes.
‘Even if they betray me, I have so many ways to control the North that it’s almost indecent: Cregan, the Karstarks, the Boltons, the Night’s Watch, the Free Folk,’ I thought.
‘Try playing with me, Rickon, and let’s see who has more to lose,’ I concluded, entirely unconcerned about potential retaliation.
