Illusiveone
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28: The Son of Ice and Fire, Direwolves and Confrontations
🕑 Added 2024-06-09 07:59:57 +0000 UTCHe was flying.
He felt the wind rushing past him as he soared through the skies. He looked down to see a vast expanse of sea, the endless blue shimmering like liquid sapphire.
Freedom. He felt a sense of freedom like never before. Exhilaration filled his heart as he glided effortlessly above the sea.
As he continued to fly, he spotted something large moving in the water below. It looked like a massive fish, perhaps a whale, gliding gracefully beneath the surface. An inexplicable urge overcame him, and he found himself diving towards the creature. The sensation was both thrilling and terrifying, like falling but with a sense of control. The water rushed up to meet him, the details of the whale becoming clearer as he approached.
Just as he bit into the whale, he woke up with a start. He spat on the floor, gagging at the lingering taste of raw fish in his mouth.
"What the fuck," he muttered, shocked and disoriented.
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Maekar
Wolfswood
The dream weighed heavily on Maekar's mind as he rode his horse alongside the Karstarks and their retinues towards Winterfell. They traversed the edges of the Wolfswood, the dense forest casting long shadows across their path. The trees here were ancient and towering, their gnarled branches intertwining to form a thick canopy overhead. Shafts of sunlight pierced through the foliage, illuminating patches of the forest floor.
His mind raced with thoughts about the dream. Was it greenseeing? Warging? He knew the Stark children in the books and some wildlings north of the Wall had these abilities. Yet, unlike what he remembered from the books about warging, he was not seeing through an animal on land; he was flying over the sea. It was too large to be a bird. He woke up just as he bit into a whale. The creature he was seeing through was large. A dragon. Was he...?
Before he could complete the thought, Harrion Karstark's voice rang out, breaking through his reverie. "Halt!"
The command echoed through the forest, and the company came to an abrupt halt. He snapped back to the present, his eyes scanning the surroundings for any sign of danger or disturbance.
"What is it?" he called out to Harrion.
"Come forward, Prince Maekar," Harrion shouted back.
He urged his horse forward and soon reached where Harrion and his brothers, along with some guards, were dismounted and gathered around.
He dismounted, and the others moved aside, revealing large tracks—wolf prints, but much larger than any he had ever seen.
"What form of creature is this?" Torhen asked, his voice tinged with curiosity and unease.
He knew exactly what it was. "Direwolf," he said grimly, though inside he was bursting with excitement.
Murmurs began among the gathered men.
"A direwolf? No one has seen one south of the Wall in centuries," Harrion said, his eyes wide with astonishment.
"Well, there is one somewhere here now," Maekar said, his eyes darting around the forest.
The guards made nervous sounds, shifting uneasily on their feet.
"We should leave, my lords," one of them said, the fear evident in his voice.
Then Maekar heard sounds further into the woods. "Come," he said, not waiting for a response.
"You want us to go there?" Eddard asked, his voice filled with hesitation.
"Yes," Maekar replied without missing a beat.
He walked toward the sound, and the Karstark brothers, along with the guards, followed. What were they supposed to do, stay behind and be called craven?
They moved cautiously through the dense foliage, the sounds growing louder and more distinct. Then they saw it—a large wolf, its grey fur matted and stained with blood, lying on the ground with injuries all over its body.
The direwolf's breathing was labored, and its eyes, once fierce and piercing, were now dulled with pain and exhaustion. The massive creature's powerful frame was marred by deep gashes, and its movements were slow and weak.
It was dying.
His heart raced, a mix of excitement and sorrow filling him as he looked at the injured direwolf. This was a creature of legend, a symbol of the North, and it was lying here, helpless and wounded.
"Gods," he heard Harrion say, his voice filled with awe. "You were right; it is a direwolf."
"It's dying," Maekar said, looking at the beast with sad eyes.
Then he heard more sounds and walked forward to see six direwolf pups nestled near the dying mother. The sight took his breath away. He neared them, but the dying wolf still tried to protect its children, a weak growl rumbling from its throat.
"I'm not going to hurt them," he said, lifting his arms to show he meant no harm.
The direwolf calmed and slowly placed its head on the ground, taking its last breath, her eyes closing forever.
"Kill the beasts," one of the guards said, and there was murmured agreement from the others.
"Kill them? The symbol of House Stark?" Torhen said angrily, shutting the guards up.
"Six direwolves for six Stark children," Harrion said, his eyes wide with wonder.
‘Yes,’ Maekar thought. ‘Three for Uncle Brandon and three for Uncle Ned.’
He picked up the pups, one by one, and handed them over to the Karstark brothers. "Here," he said, "we can gift them to Uncle Brandon."
He was a bit disappointed; he had hoped for one of his own. As he was about to leave, he heard another sound and turned in its direction.
Moving towards it, he found a white direwolf pup with red eyes, which looked like the weakest of the litter.
‘Looks like I am to get one after all,’ he thought, picking it up and showing it to the others.
"Looks like I have mine," he said with a smile.
“As you should, my prince,” Harrion said with a smile.
"Hello, Ghost," Maekar murmured, nestling the pup in his arms and following the others back to their horses.
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They reached Winterfell as the sun began to set. The imposing grey stone walls of Winterfell rose high, solid, and unyielding. As they rode through the gates, the courtyard bustled with activity, guards and servants going about their duties. The Great Keep stood proudly at the heart of the castle, flanked by other buildings. Uncle Brandon and Aunt Catelyn stood near the entrance of the Great Keep.
He had not seen his uncle in months; he looked the same as the last time he saw him—dark hair, grey eyes, and a face that seemed carved from stone. Aunt Catelyn stood beside him, her auburn hair a striking contrast to the somber tones of Winterfell.
They dismounted their horses and walked towards them.
"Welcome, cousins from Karhold," Brandon said officially, his voice carrying authority. "Winterfell is honored by your presence."
Harrion, Eddard, and Torhen paid their respects, bowing their heads. "We are honored to be here, Lord Stark," Harrion replied.
“And Lady Alys, as beautiful as ever,” Brandon said, looking at Alys.
“Lord Stark,” she said, curtsying.
Brandon then turned to Maekar, his stern face breaking into a smile. Uncle Brandon embraced him warmly. "Welcome back to Winterfell, Maekar," he said, clapping him on the back. Aunt Catelyn followed, hugging him as well. "It's good to have you home," she said with a smile.
Cregan, Sansa, and little Sara came running to greet them. Cregan, who had grown and was already showing signs of becoming a formidable Stark, grinned broadly. Sansa, with her auburn hair like her mother's, curtsied politely, and Sara, the youngest, hid behind her mother's skirts, peeking out shyly.
“What is that in your hands, Maekar?” Brandon asked, noticing Ghost.
Maekar signaled for the Karstark brothers to bring the other pups. "Uncle Brandon, Aunt Catelyn, we found something on our way here," he said, presenting the direwolf pups.
Everyone gathered around, eyes widening in amazement. The pups squirmed and whimpered, drawing soft gasps from the onlookers.
"Direwolves," Brandon said, his voice filled with awe.
"Their mother was dying, and we found these pups with her," Maekar explained. "We thought it fitting that they come to Winterfell."
Brandon's face lit up with a broad smile. "The North's fortunes are indeed on the rise. This is a sign of great things to come."
Cregan, Sansa, and Sara were immediately fascinated by the direwolf pups, each choosing one to care for. The other three were taken away to be given to Robb, Arya, and Rickon. Aunt Catelyn, after a moment of quiet wonder, took charge of the Karstarks, leading them inside to settle them into their quarters.
"Uncle Brandon," Maekar said, turning to his uncle. "I need to speak with you privately."
Brandon looked confused by his request but acquiesced.
They entered his uncle's solar. The room was filled with the soft glow of the setting sun filtering through the narrow windows.
Uncle Brandon sat down in his chair. "How is everything in Maekarton?" he asked.
Maekar took a seat opposite his uncle. "Everything is fine, Uncle. But you already know this from the regular reports I send."
Brandon gave a slight nod. "Well, it's always good to hear it directly from the lord of the lands."
"I'm not a lord, am I?" Maekar asked, raising an eyebrow.
"That can be changed," Brandon replied, a hint of seriousness in his voice.
Maekar shifted in his seat, leaning forward. "Uncle, have there been any missives from the capital from my father asking me to return?"
Brandon's expression froze for a moment. He then spoke carefully, "What makes you think your father wants you back?"
"I have my ways, Uncle. I've learned that many in the capital are expecting my return," Maekar said firmly.
Brandon remained silent for a moment before sighing. "Let them expect your return, then. It's not like you would leave." He looked directly at him. "Do you wish to leave, nephew?"
"Yes, Uncle, I wish to leave," Maekar said, his voice unwavering.
Brandon looked taken aback. "Why?"
"I have plans, Uncle. Plans I can't put into motion if I stay here."
Brandon frowned. "What plans? You are safe here, Maekar. I plan to make you lord of your own lands."
Maekar interrupted, "I knew that when you sent the Karstarks my way, especially Alys. Tell me, Uncle, how long has my father been sending you missives to have me come back to the capital?"
Brandon's face hardened. "You are not going. There is nothing for you there, Maekar."
"Yes, Uncle, I have to go," Maekar insisted.
"There is nothing in the south for us but misery. I lost my father, my sister… your mother to the mad dragons," Brandon said, his voice rising.
Maekar needed to convince his uncle, even if it meant igniting the now dying embers of revenge within him. He took a deep breath, looking directly into his uncle's eyes.
"That is exactly the reason I must go," he shouted back. "I want revenge, Uncle. I want to take everything away from my father, even his throne."
Brandon's eyes widened, shock rendering him speechless.
"Think about it, Uncle. You must know what is happening in the capital now,” Maekar said, standing up.
“Think about it," he added, before leaving the solar, leaving his uncle to mull over his words.
Comments
Illusiveone
I have already hinted a future plot point in the last chapter Maekar will meet the wielder of Blackfyre there.
Duy
Nah Blackfyre is better, since it’s a bastard sword and Maekar is seen as a bastard by most southern lords
THEREAL_UB94
Cannibal? I hope! What about dark sister? Should definitely be Maekar’s.
Duy
Was that Maekar warging or greenseering or maybe dragon dreams? Because if he was green seering, that would be him seeing his future dragon. If it was him warging, that means his bonded is a full grown dragon.
Arcturus
Yeah, first Norhman and Old Gods' follower on the Throne, I like it! The closest results they had before, were Blackwood Queen and Bloodraven as Hand of the King. Need to fix that historical injustice And Prince Maekar needs at least a few hundreds fellow Varangians with him
