Chapter 21

Don't even know why I write a Chapter, but here we go, I suppose.

Only vaguely went over everything. If there are any mistakes, meh....

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In all her time as Queen of the North, she had never felt so uncertain about how to perceive a situation. At the center of this chaos were two individuals, even though one had nothing to do with it. Not really, at least in her eyes, and that was all that mattered.

Even so far from the land of dragons, the Freehold, the mightiest nation in the world, they had learned enough to know never to cross them. They rode gigantic dragons into battle, creatures that could cast entire cities in shadow with their massive bodies and reduce them to ashes with their fire.

Their magic was dark and twisted, a type of sorcery that could chill the bones of even the bravest child. Legends spoke of blood rituals and ancient pacts with beings from beyond the known world, powers that gave them dominion over life and death itself.

And yet, they were capable of great things, as was evident. Out of nowhere, they raised the mightiest nation the world had ever seen. From shepherds to kings of the world. A beautiful story, if it weren't so stained with blood.

But much of it seemed unreal, as few had seen anything comparable as they grew up. Stories were just that, stories, until one sees it with their own eyes. The only reason why the Kings, Queens, and High Lords of Westeros knew them to be true was because of travelers who went there to trade.

And now, perhaps for the first time in the history of a Queen of the North, or any Queen in Westeros for that matter, she looked out from her high chamber and saw the creature that could bring fear and terror to any being, sleeping far from Winterfell, undisturbed by the snow and cold around it.

Okay, she was sure that the dragon, Ancalagon—she remembered its name—could imagine better places to rest, but it wasn't really that bad. For him, it was as mild as a summer breeze she had experienced in her childhood days when she and her family followed the Starks to a wedding in the South.

Her thoughts were interrupted by the noise in the training yard. There, as every day for the past week, was her eldest son, Cregan Stark, sparring with Kaelarys of House Baelaeron.

From the first minute they sat at the table together, the two got along splendidly, despite their age difference. She was more than shocked when she found out his true age. She would have guessed him to be ten and six, but one should never judge a book by its cover. But here, it was the opposite.

His sword skills were excellent. No, even unheard of, especially for someone so young. Her son had no chance. She herself was an excellent warrior, and even she had to admit, sadly, that she had no chance.

And if she, who could make her own son taste dirt faster than he could count to three, said that, it meant something.

He twirled his Valyrian steel sword with ease in his hand and had a constant grin on his face as the soldiers cheered for her son. Yet, as every week, it didn't help him.

Her son was good with the sword. Not a warrior about whom legends would be written for his swordsmanship, but good enough. But what she saw down there resembled a fight between a child and an adult.

"You're brooding again, my love." Her husband, her love, the king said as he stood beside her, leaning against the railing while looking at her face with a smile on his face. He was, like her, nearly naked after she had to vent her frustration. Fucking emotions, she swore. Why in the god's name did she need to have another child, she fumed at herself.

"Brooding? Just watching our son get his pride handed to him again," she replied snarkily. "He looks like he can handle a sword as well as you did a few moments ago."

She smirked internally as she saw his grin drop and his eyebrow raise at her. "Really, your face said other—" she stopped him by placing her hand on his mouth.

"Shut up," she said heatedly.

"I love it when you are angry," he mumbled behind her hand, not intending to remove it, but licking her hand instead.

"You," she fumed before she was pulled into a heated kiss that they held for a few minutes.

"Seems like you still aren't calm," her husband said with his goddamn grin once again on his face. And as much as her body said so, she wasn't in the mood right now.

She released herself from her husband's hold and hugged her clothes close to her body.

"It just confuses me," she finally gave in. "Why is he here? It just doesn't make any sense."

Why would a dragonlord, regal as he was young, come so far north, away from all the luxury he was accustomed to?

"He already said, he wants to see the Wall," Harren replied.

"Maybe," she answered, not agreeing or denying anything.

Perhaps he was right, she chuckled as she looked into the distance. He had no reason to scheme if he could take whatever he wanted. As if Ancalagon could read her thoughts, he opened his eyes and lifted his head in her direction.

She quickly averted her eyes from the beast.

"He's a fascinating creature, isn't he?" Harren said, following her gaze. "I've never seen anything like it in my life."

"Fascinating? He is terrifying," she replied, shivering slightly. "It's hard to believe that something so powerful can be controlled by anyone, let alone a boy who looks barely older than our Cregan." She sighed, hugging her clothes tighter.

They turned back to watch their son and Kaelarys sparring below. Cregan was improving, but the difference in skill was still apparent.

Suddenly, the sparring match ended with Kaelarys disarming Cregan effortlessly...once again. The onlookers cheered, and Kaelarys helped Cregan up with a friendly pat on the back. Despite the loss, Cregan smiled, appreciating the lesson.

"He's a good influence on our son," Harren remarked.

No matter how much she worried about his presence, he was right. Cregan was a prince, and regardless of how many friends he had, he was always far above them in status, destined to rule over them.

Kaelarys, on the other hand, was even above his status. Even though the titles of king and queen implied higher status than that of a lord freeholder, it wasn't so. A king ruled over vast lands, had subjects, and could do as he saw fit. A lord freeholder, on the other hand, had dragons, wealth, and prestige that surpassed any king's—at least when it came to the mightier houses of the 40 Dragonlord families.

But even the weakest house of the 40 could conquer any kingdom in Westeros. And House Baelaeron might be able to conquer all of Westeros.

What held them back, no one truly knew. For thousands of years, the people of Westeros feared that the Freehold would conquer their land as they did with their neighboring territories, yet it never happened. They avoided Westeros like the plague. A concerning thought if there ever was one in her mind.

It wasn't until later that evening that she saw him again, this time with his mistress, apparently. The maids had told her about the activities the two engaged in within their chambers.

If that wasn't a clear enough hint, then the fact that Myranda's bedchamber hadn't been touched at all since their arrival certainly was.

She was just about to approach them when she was stopped by a pile of bundled clothes.

She sighed as she looked down, already knowing who this little troublemaker was. "Anya," she growled.

"Eh?"

A round face of pure happiness looked back at her after Anya finally managed to remove the pile of clothes, which were far too big and numerous for her.

"Hello, mother," the little girl giggled.

By the gods, if the baby in her belly turned out anything like Anya, she would hang up her motherhood mantle. She would never let her husband into bed again.

"What the hell. Are. You. Doing?" she scowled as she picked up her daughter.

"Ehmmmm," Anya brought her finger to her cheek and looked up at the ceiling before having a sudden realization. "I don't know," she grinned as if she had found the answer to the biggest puzzle in the world.

"-.-"

Elara turned her head to the side as she heard laughter. It was Kaelarys and Myranda, together with her two sons.

"Just like my little sister," Kaelarys chuckled as he pinched Anya's cheek. Anya giggled and squirmed in her mother's arms, clearly enjoying the attention.

"I take it you were on the way to dinner?" Kaelarys asked. "We could accompany you there. We four were on the way there anyway."

"Well," she began while looking at Anya, "I would love to, but it seems I need to take my child to her chambers to get her properly dressed. But I will see you four shortly in the Great Hall. If you excuse me."

With that, she was on her way with little Anya in her arms.

Maybe, she looked over her shoulder at their retreating backs ,she should just relax.

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Well, new Chapter, don't know why tho...

Yours,

Jasonenrick