The Winter Queen

Chapter 42

Daemon

Flying over the Neck had been a surreal experience for him as he quickly noted how well maintained the roads were. The second thing of note was that Moat Catlin, which had become a ruin ages before, had been reconstructed, only this time some kind of silvery icy material, which Daemon had never before laid eyes on. The material was certainly not metal and emitted a very frosty aura. It was very strange.

The next great surprise for Daemon happened as they approached the place once known as Wintertown. By all accounts that Daemon had ever read, the North only had one city, White Harbor and that Wintertown and Barrowton were secondary but far more minor towns. Otherwise, the North was filled with small scattered villages. The place they approached was far larger, easily half the size of King’s Landing, if not larger. Daemon had to wonder why and how a settlement that had been so small for so long would suddenly, in a matter of years, dramatically increase in size. Somehow, he knew that it had to have something to do with his precious niece.

Viserys

Coming into Queen’s Hearth was mind-blowing. Yes, he had heard the rumors about how Wintertown was growing rapidly, but to see it first had, was truly momentous. Rumors did not do it justice. The King was quite nervous. He did not know how his precious little girl was going to act upon seeing him nor did he know how he was going to act, seeing her now fully grown with babes of her own.

Rhaenyra

That particular dragon sound could only belong to one dragon, her uncle’s dragon, Caraxes, the Blood Wyrm. Oh, it had practically been a lifetime since she had seen either of them. She had to wonder what her dearest Uncle would think of her now, a loving and loyal wife to a big and strong Stark Lord, carrying his child within her and being the mother to ⅔ of his children as well as having woken the ice dragons and now being a pyromancer and cryomancer. Would he accept that her daughters all had their father’s dark hair with her eyes and that her son had her hair but his father’s eyes? Regardless, she just truly hoped that he would quickly come to realize just how well the Starks had been treating her. She also wondered if her secret plot would plan out the way she hoped as her Uncle truly deserved to be happy.

As for her father, she did not know what to say to him. They hadn’t exactly parted on the greatest terms but she was still his only human child. She also wondered if he had thought to bring any of her half-sisters, especially Dracara with him. She had never met any of them and was curious about her father’s little monsters. Did any of them show any degree of human intelligence? Did they know about her? What had they been told about her? Would her father be open to speaking to her about them?

When it came to Alicent and Otto, well, she was glad knowing that they would finally receive exactly what they deserved. Her family had been broken beyond repair due to their machinations and now it was time for them to pay for their crimes.

Cregan

By this point in time, dragons were no longer an oddity in the North. Between his wife’s fire dragon Syrax, their four children’s hatchlings, Cannibal and the Ice dragons, they definitely knew dragons now and had learned just how beneficial dragons truly could be. However, the arrival of the Blood Wyrm was still a sight to behold as it was so different looking than any other dragon he had ever seen let alone heard before. If it hadn’t been for the look of awe and joy on his little wife’s face upon first hearing the red dragon and seeing it, he might have been a bit cowed when it landed.

Then the wheelhouses and armoured carts passed through the gates and he, his father, wife and children knelt as they knew the King was about to stand before them. It had been over four years since Cregan’s only meeting with the man and he had never met the infamous rogue prince before but the difference between the two brothers was startling. While the Prince appeared to be rather young, strong and all together excellent health and of similar age to himself (the Prince being a man of 34, two years Cregan’s senior), the King appeared to be at least his father’s age of 64 if not older and of far worse health despite being only three years older than his brother. It was astonishing just how many decades the King appeared to age since he had last been at Winterfell. Truly, he must have lost favor with the Gods as only they could make a man age so quickly.

Rickon

The King was a man young in his years but ancient in body, at least, so it appeared when he arrived at Winterfell. The far more youthful and spry Prince even had to assist his elder brother out of his wheelhouse and provide him with support even as he leaned heavily upon his cane. If Rickon did not know better or if he had not only just met the King less than five years previous, he would have assumed that the King had been born from his own generation if not his parents generation rather than the generation of his son.

The King and Prince walked slowly over to them where they knelt in due reverence to the King.

“Your Grace, My Prince, Winterfell is yours!” he said in a strong and steady voice.

The King then emitted a whimper in reply even as he stretched out a hand towards his daughter, “Rhaenyra! My. Only. Child.”

The King then fainted.