Chapter Text
“Ser Criston, bring me the eye of Lucerys Velaryon”
Rhaenyra could feel her blood run cold as that was said. Between all the thing she has expected Alicent to say… she knew that the relationship with her former friend had turned cold over the years, but she had never thought Alicent would hurt a child, moreover, her child. Immediately, she used her own body to cover her son, who was trembling. Her father was looking between his wife and his daughter, not knowing what to do. Should he listen to his wife or to his daughter? Certainly, he didn´t his grandson to be harmed. His son was harmed, yes, but… hurting more children of his blood surely wasn´t the answer. He turned to Alicent, determined to make her see reason, but she continued without mercy.
“He can choose which eye to keep, a privilege he did not grant my son.”
“You will not do such a thing” Rhaenyra stated, her eyes glistening with protective fury. She won´t let that woman or any of her goons put a hand on her boy.
As the argument got heated, an argument where even the paternity and legitimacy of Rhaenyra´s children was put into question, where Alicent asked her where was duty and Viserys screamed for them to stop, not doing anything more than that… why was her father not helping her when she needed him? Her uncle Daemon was of more help than him, keeping Ser Cole away from her and Lucerys. The knight had declared that he won´t take an eye from her boy because of the order of the King, but she didn´t trust him to actually keep his word if it meant that he would have an opportunity to get revenge on her. Princess Rhaenys and Lord Corlys had the other children behind them, so she couldn´t ask them for help. Where was Laenor? Where was he now that their son needed him?
Alicent suddenly took the dagger from her father´s waist and went to do the deed herself. Rhaenyra put herself between her boy and the madwoman again, getting cut by the dagger. Her former friend froze for a moment, looking at Rhaenyra with scared and wild eyes. She certainly never wanted to hurt her… the dagger, still dripping Rhaenyra´s blood, was then taken from Alicent´s hand and flung away by someone, neither of the women noticed who. They could barely heard the clang as it collided with something metallic in the room… then the sound of a fire starting got capitate the attention of everyone in the room. The dagger had collided with a great, antique, Valyrian Steel chandelier that Lord Velaryon had in display, the blood of the dragon touching it. Before anyone could say something else, another flame appeared. And another and another… all the way until they were fourteen.
“Lord Velaryon…” Viserys started.
“Corlys…” Rhaenys grabbed her husband´s arm in fear. The Sea Snake covered her hand with his own, as scared as her. Both of them knew what that chandelier was. It was a relic from old Valyria, used to pray to the Fourteen Flames. It hasn´t been used since the Doom, but now… now it was…
BLOOD OF A QUEEN… BLOOD OF DRAGONS… BLOOD OF HERS…
Everyone was dumbfounded at the voices that seemed to come from the flames. Alicent was the first one to recompose, or at least to lose her wits because of her religious fanatism.
“Lord Velaryon, what is this blasphemy?! End this…”
YOU!!!
The fire covered all the stance. It was no longer small flames in a chandelier, with a fire angry with the rage of an offended god. An offended god who decided his target was Alicent Hightower. The flames covered her, threatening to burn her alive, showing her horrifying images of her children screaming, the dragons screaming, her children and grandchildren dying and finally her own end. She screamed and covered her ears, closing her eyes so she could not hear or see those visions that the Fourteen Flames decided to torture her with. Ser Criston unsheated his sword, decided to protect her, but the steel weapon heated so much that he had to drop it to the floor, where it melted.
YOU!!! GREEN WOMAN!! GREEN POISON FOR THE DRAGONS!! DAUGHTER OF INCARNATION OF GREED!!!! OF HE WHO MUST BE CURSED UNTIL THE END!! CULPRIT OF THE END!! THE LONG NIGHT COULDN´T BE STOPPED BECAUSE OF YOU AND YOUR FATHER!! THE DANGER BEYOND THE WALL WILL SUCEED THANKS TO YOUR GREEN POISON!!
Alicent continued screaming, screaming that it wasn´t real, that this wasn´t happening. Otto Hightower watched his daughter in horror and amazement. What were the Velaryons playing at? Or… there was a chance that it was not them… maybe it was just Rhaenyra… because… there was no way the gods themselves were intervening… the gods didn´t exist… or if they exist, they didn´t meddle in the affairs of men, they didn´t…
“Please…” Rhaenyra approached the chandelier, equally as scared as everyone else, but trying to show bravery. She was the Heir of the Iron Throne and won´t be intimidated even by gods. “Please, give us a chance… give us a chance to make things right…”
CHILD OF US, CHILD WHOSE BLOOD CALLED TO US… LAST OPPORTUNITY… LAST CHANCE…
The flames suddenly left Alicent to circle Rhaenyra, then slither to the floor in a circle of fire. Before the stupefied eyes of everyone, in the middle of the circle appeared a newborn. The child, a girl, started crying in her crib of fire, her voice making all the dragons in Dragonstone roar. Rhaenyra, giving a reassuring squeeze to Lucerys, approached the flames and cradled the girl in her arms. This one stopped crying and looked at her with her deep purple eyes. She was cold despite having just been surrounded by fire, so cold as if she had been outside in the snows of the North.
HER NAME IS DAENERYS… BLESSED CHILD OF OURS… ONE OF THREE… SHE WHO IN THE FUTURE SHALL BE QUEEN AND BRING DRAGONS FROM STONE… REMEMBER, RHAENYRA, CHILD OF US, LAST CHANCE… LAST CHANCE… OR THE LONG NIGHT AND DARKNESS WILL EAT US ALL…
The flames went off, leaving not even the burn marks of their presence in the room. The chandelier also was completely cold when Lord Corlys approached it. The only sign of their presence still there was little Daenerys, whose hands were trying to grab Rhaenyra´s locks, and ser Criston´s melted sword in the stones of Driftmark´s hall. For once, Viserys put his foot down and demanded for everyone to leave except for the adult members of his family. Which of course included Rhaenys and Corlys. Otto Hightower tried to get in too, but he was told to leave by the King. The Kingsguard also went outside and guarded the doors.
“Viserys, surely you are not going to believe it, they surely staged this all to…”
“And how could we have staged all of this, you stupid girl?” Princess Rhaenys asked, her fingers intervened with her husband´s. “That chandelier practically hasn´t been touched since the Doom of Valyria… how do you think we could have done something like this?”
“I… I don´t know, but… but you surely did it!! And blasphemed against the Seven…”
“Quiet, Alicent” Viserys ordered, cold towards his wife. The Queen looked at him in disbelieve. He then approached the baby girl that was still in his daughter´s arms. “Let me see her.”
“Here, father” Rhaenyra passed Daenerys to her father. Such a little girl… with such a big destiny waiting for her. He put her back on his daughter´s arms, thanking the gods for letting them have this last chance and this small blessing. He promised not to disappoint them. The King looked up to his daughter.
“What should we do from now on, Rhaenyra?”
“What, father?” the Princess asked, confused.
“The gods decided to put this girl in your care, so you decide how we will proceed from now on” Viserys said to his daughter. Alicent snorted. “How should we proceed?”
“I… I think the maester should take a look at her, to tell us if she is healthy. Then… we should get clothes for her” Rhaenyra looked down at the girl, who yawned. “Joffrey´s wetnurse should be informed that there is another babe to take care of until we can find one for Daenerys herself…”
“Viserys, we should…”
“You may leave, Alicent” the King said to his wife, turning back to his daughter. Rhaenys also ignored the Queen in favor of ordering the servants to put another crib in the nursery. Corlys didn´t even seem to notice her presence anymore, focused on the chandelier. Daemon offered her a smirk, but it was more mocking than anything.
Dejected, Alicent Hightower left. Her eyes were flaming with fury. This was surely another of Rhaenyra´s ploys to have one of her bastards passed as legitimate. The bastard in question might look like a Targaryen, but that didn´t fool her. The only question was who the father of this girl was. It couldn´t be Harwin Strong, he had been dead for too long to be Daenerys´ father. Then it struck her. Daemon, it was surely Daemon. Hadn´t Rhaenyra, Daemon and Laena spent time together during her pregnancy. Besides, Daemon, Daenerys… yes, that was it!! Rhaenyra had planned everything to pass her bastard with Daemon as legitimate!! That whore was so sure…
“Alicent” her father´s voice returned her to reality. She stopped and faced Otto with her head low. “What was said there?”
“Only that the bastard girl was to be taken to the master and then to the nursery” she informed him.
“Bastard?”
“I´m sure this is an elaborate ploy to pass another of Rhaenyra´s bastards as legitimate, father” she said, very sure of herself. “The father is probably Daemon… or perhaps a dragonseed hence her appearance… but I´m sure it´s most likely Daemon. It matters not, the girl is a bastard just like the other three and…”
“We will have to see, daughter” the Hand of the King stopped her. “In the meantime, we should keep an eye on this girl and her growing, so there are no surprises.”
-In Dorne-
Alliandra Nymeros Martell was taking a boat down the Greenblood, thinking about her own future. With her father dead, the young princess had inherited the throne of Dorne, and with it, the power she had always coveted to have. She, the new Nymeria, would guide the dornish towards victory and gain more fertile lands for her Kingdom. Right now, she was on a trip to meet with some of her principal lords to talk about a possible invasion of the Reach. Most of them were already eager… so was she. She went for her chalice… when the ship came to a complete stop, shaking her and making her splash her dress with her wine.
“What´s the matter, captain?” the princess asked, trying to dry her silken shift with a napkin. “Did we hit something or get stranded?”
“No, my princess, we just… I don´t know” the sailor said, also trying to see what was happening to his vessel. “We have… stopped… it´s as if the waters are commanding us to stay in this place.”
“That´s ridiculous, why…”
ALLIANDRA
“What is that?” the Princess of Dorne asked, having heard the voice in the air. Her head moved all around, hoping to see who had talked to her, who had dared to use her name and not her title to address her. “Show yourself!!”
ALLIANDRA, CHILD OF MINE
“I order you to show yourself!!”
As soon as the woman made this demand, the river started to shift under the vessel. The waters retire and converge in one point. As they ascended, Aliandra took a few steps back, falling on her rear as she tried to get away. The river itself seemed to have woken up from it´s slumber to take a form. First it was difficult to know the shape it was going to take, but then they could see it´s waters form a humanoid body. Clearer waters formed a dress that seemed both simpler and more majestic than anything the princess or any of her court members or servants had ever seen before. Dark green waters formed the hair of the woman, because the river has indeed turned into a woman, and a group of swimming turtles formed a necklace around her neck.
“This can´t be” Alliandra said, failing to stand again and falling on her knees.
ALLIANDRA, CHILD OF MINE, COME TO THE FORTH. YOUR MOTHER WISHES TO SPEAK TO YOU, GIRL OF MY BLOOD.
“Mother… Mother Rhyone, Goddess of my ancestors” the princess rushed as much as she could on her knees to the front of the deity. How was she supposed to address her? Had she known that she would be facing the Goddess of Ny Sar one day, she would have found one of the orphans of the Greeblood to teach her the ancient traditions. “Talk, Mother of Mine, that your child is listening.”
MY DEAR GIRL, SO FULL OF IDEAS, SO FULL OF LIFE. AS I EXPECTED, YOU ARE THE RIGHT ONE FOR THE MISSION I AM TO ENTRUST YOU. YOUR PEOPLE ARE AT GREAT PERIL, MY CHILD, A DANGER THAT WILL NOT COME FOR MANY GENERATIONS, BUT WILL COME AND WHEN IT HAS, YOU WON´T BE ABLE TO FACE IT ALONE. NO ONE WOULD BE ABLE TO FACE IT IF THINGS HAPPEN AS THEY ARE PLANNED.
“Say my mission, Mother, and this child of your will obediently do everything so it comes to fruition” Aliandra continued, hoping that the Goddess didn´t ask for something that would hinder her plans.
DARKNESS IS WAKING UP, THE ENEMY OF THE GODS IS STIRRING ON THE OTHER SIDE OF THE WALL IN THE DISTANT NORTH. AND WHEN HE WAKES UP, HE WILL TRY TO SWALLOW THE WORLD AGAIN. MANY HEROES WILL TRY TO STOP HIM, BUT WITHOUT PEOPLE LISTENING OR THE WEAPONS NEEDED TO SUCEED, THEY WILL FAIL. THAT´S WHY… EXTEND YOUR HANDS.
The goddess extended a hand towards Alliandra, who remained kneeled as she extended her hands. A sphere of water, almost like a pearl but with whirlpools of liquid fighting inside of it, was put into the woman´s arms. As soon as the princess watched it, the sphere seemed to burst, water failing to the ground to reveal a baby where there was only liquid before. The small boy, newborn by his size and the cord still attached to his belly, breathed his first breath of life and cried. The princess opened her eyes in wonder. The boy had silver hair and purple eyes, but the skin of the Rhyonar. A perfect Valyrian Rhyonish mixture.
HE HAS THE NAME OF A CONQUEROR, OF THE CONQUERORS THAT DESTROYED MY PEOPLE AND FORCED THEM TO FLEE AWAY FROM ME, BUT IT´S STILL A CHILD OF MINE. A CHILD THAT HAS TRAVELLED THROUGH MY WATERS AND SEEN THE WONDERS OF OUR PAST. HE HAS CROSSED THE HOME WITH THE ORPHANS AND SHARED THE TABLE WITH DRAGONLORDS, THE SANDS OF DORNE IS IN HIS VEINS. EVEN YOUR BLOOD IS IN HIM.
“Mother, what am I…”
TAKE CARE OF HIM, NURTURE HIM, TEACH HIM TO BE GREAT RHYONISH PRINCE… AND WHEN HE IS READY, SEND HIM TO HIS RELATIVES OF FIRE SO HE COULD LEARN FROM THEM TOO, BECAUSE HE IS ONE OF THREE THAT SHALL BATTLE DARKNESS IN OUR NAME. FROM NOW ON, I´M PUTTING THIS CHILD UNDER YOUR PROTECTION, DEAR ALIANDRA, FOR HE WILL NOT ONLY REIGN IN THE SKIES, BUT RETURN THE MAGIC THAT SEEMED TO BE LOST TO MY ORPHANED CHILDREN. FAIL, ALLIANDRA, AND THE FALL OF THE LIVING WOULD BE IN YOUR SHOULDERS TOO.
“I… I won´t fail, Mother” she promised. “It will be done as you have said.”
The goddess then smiled and returned the waters to their place, the turtles dispersing. The only trace left behind of her presence were a ship full of scared people and the babe in Alliandra´s arms. She looked down at the child again. Has she really heard well? Was this child… both a dragonrider and a water magician? And how was she going to raise him? Don´t misunderstand her, Alliandra had always known that someday she will have to had children to continue the Martell bloodline, but she thought that she still had time. At only ten and six namedays old, she wasn´t ready to raise a child on her own. But, at the same time…
“My princess, we are moving again” the captain informed her. “It would be only a matter of time before we reach…”
“Forget that” the woman said, snatching a silk from the table to cover the babe from the sun. He had Rhyonish skin, but she didn´t want him to get affected by it´s rays. “We return to Sunspear immediately.” She turned to Ynis Allyrion, one of her handmaidens. “When we return, get me a wetnurse immediately.” Then turned to Falena Vaith. “You will order the servants to prepare a nursery in the palace.”
“Yes, my princess.” Both handmaidens bowed.
Aliandra looked down at her new charge, who was playing with an extreme of his silken cover. There would be many changes to do and perhaps more than one delay to her original plan, but, in the end, everything will work out. The Goddess of the river Rhyone had just given her a gift better than any golden or silver trinket her lords could give her and she would see to it that her little miracle was nurtured into the greatest Rhyonish Prince there ever was. And, maybe one day, King.
“The name of a Conqueror… Aegon” she smiled at the babe. “Aegon Nymeros Martell, my son. You will give us victory.”
As she entered Sunspear, Aegon in her arms, everyone received her with a surprised look. To the knowledge of even the most intimate servant, the princess hasn´t been pregnant when she decided to leave a few weeks ago, at least not enough to have given birth during her few weeks trip. She had paramours, of course, but she had always been careful not to get pregnant before wedlock. Many people also marveled at the looks of the child, who looked both Valyrian and Rhyonish and wondered when their princess could have met a man of Valyrian roots that took her fancy.
Alliandra, for her part, didn´t care about the rumors. She dressed Aegon in the clothes her handmaidens had busied themselves sewing during their hastened return and settled him down in the crib in the nursery. As she watched the wetnurse feed her little one, she decided that there were few things she could teach him if he remained in a room.
“Bring two cribs, one for my solar and one for my throne room. Aegon will accompany me from now on” she ordered.
The next day, Alliandra Nymeros Martell received petitioners and guests with little Aegon Nymeros Martell by her side. The child observed, strangely attentive, from his crib as the princess answered petitions. Alliandra rocked him from time to time, smiling at her visits as she answered them. In the middle of that, much to the surprise of everyone in the court, a group of Orphans of the Greeblood appeared. They kneeled in front of the princess, who gave them leave to speak.
“I am Yandras, leader of our village” “It has come to our knowledge, princess, that our dear Mother spoke to you. And not only that, but that she blessed a child of yours with the magic that once belonged to our ancestors.”
“I wonder how you came across such a tale” Alliandra said, her eyes turning to Aegon. How indeed. She swore every person in the boat to silence, not wanting news of her encounter with the ancient River goddess to be publicized. It can become dangerous to both her and her charge if it was. “If that´s all you came to tell…”
“This is the child?” Yandras asked, his eyes landing on the small, sleeping babe on the crib. “May you receive many blessings, little one, and the Mother remain with you for the rest of your life. You have blessed us and your mother with your arrival, the first water mage to be born in this world since we left the river Rhyone behind.”
The princess wanted to say something more, but the orphans started to kneel towards both her and Aegon. After a moment of pondering, a smile came to her face. Whatever she planned now, she would have both the lords and the orphans of the Greenblood behind her. That was surely enough to conquer the Marches and the Reach. Now, with a dragon on her side… victory will truly be hers. But she should be careful, at least until Aegon was a little bit older. Until then…
“What´s the rush?” Alliandra asked her lords when they asked about an invasion, rocking her son´s crib. “We have time”
-In the North-
Cregan Stark was sharpening his sword. That same afternoon, the entire nobility of the North had witnessed the execution of Bennard Stark and his sons. He had not done the deed himself, of course, as traitors or not, they were still his kin, but still… that was why he was there, praying to the weirwoods and cleaning his family´s sword to calm down and think on everything. His marriage to Arra was one of few things that brought him happiness in the recent days. Knowing that the Stark line will soon be secured and his House would flourish, his LINE would flourish even after his uncle´s attempt to usurp him.
STARK… CREGAN STARK, WOLF OF THE NORTH…
Cregan was on his feet and wielding his family sword in a second. Who was there? The next thing he noticed were howls. Wolves? Wolves in the Godswood? No, that was impossible, wolves could never… before he could even finish that thought, the figures of wolves with the size of horses started to appear from everywhere. Direwolves. Direwolves like his family sigil, all of them white as snow. How was he going to get out of this one? It would be quite a disappointment to have fought so hard to recover his place as Lord of Winterfell only to end up in the belly of a wolf. To be remembered as the Stark that was eaten by direwolves… the wolves suddenly stopped and howled at the same time, making Cregan shiver. What was happening?
CREGAN STARK… WOLF OF THE NORTH…
The Lord of Winterfell turned around and saw the heart tree. Only that… this heart tree seemed… alive. He guessed that it was always alive, but right now, it really seemed… alive. It´s tears of red sap were flowing freely. Cregan realized then that it wasn´t a mortal being that he was hearing. After centuries or even milenia, he was the first northman to hear the voice of the Gods of the First Men. He immediately went to his knees, his sword in front of himself. Whatever the Gods wanted to communicate, there seemed to be anger in their voice. And that wasn´t good.
“I am here, a wolf of the north, blood of the First Men and the Children of the Forest, ready to hear you”
STARK… WINTER IS COMING… YOUR WARNING… AND YOU FAILED!!!
Cregan shuddered as he heard the accusing scream of the Gods. He wanted to cover his ears, but he realized that would be a great mistake. Whatever he or his whole family had failed at, he needed to hear so it wasn´t repeated.
“Tell me, revered ones, where did I fail? When did House Stark failed and I assure you that it will be corrected!! I will make sure it will be corrected!!”
Cregan was suddenly pulled out of his body. He screamed, not knowing what was happening, only to see a Raven with three eyes taking flight from the weirwood and guiding him through what seemed like a myriad of images. And then he saw them… he saw Brandon Stark fighting the darkness and saw the Others with their undead, bright blue eyes. As blue as their undead thralls, bringing a night so dark with them that it seemed to swallow all living things and a winter so cold that everything froze. He saw that danger being defeated and retreating, that winter giving way to Spring and then Brandon building the Wall with the help of the Giants.
“Winter is coming… always” Brandon said when it was completed. “And House Stark´s duty is to keep it from destroying the word of the living.”
The images turned fuzzy again, as Cregan was taken through time and space again by the Raven. He saw images of many times, some even of himself, until the bird stopped at a certain place. Winterfell. From his place he saw a wolf with southern ambitions hearing to the whispers of a grey rat and selling his only daughter to a man unworthy in all senses. He saw a she-wolf, angered at the selling and strong as warrior, taking sword, lance and armor to teach some unruly squires honor. He saw the she wolf and the silver dragon meeting and falling in love, the madness of the dragon´s father, an elopement turned into a kidnapping by those who wanted to overthrow the dragons, two wolves dying in the Red Keep, a Rebellion erupting and ending up with the unworthy stag on the throne… and finally, he saw the Quiet Wolf, Eddard Stark, receiving his sister´s child and promising to protect it… but did he truly protect him, his flesh and blood? Or was he protecting his goodbrother´s killer, the unworthy stag that dilapidated the gold of the Realm and drowned them in debt? The whoring and drunken king that he called a brother in all but blood?
“Eddard Stark failed and his children failed since before they tried. By the time everyone was aware of the danger coming to them, it was too late. They didn´t have the strength… and with a Mad Queen opposing to them, they failed… and her after them. Eddard Stark died a miserable death far away from his home, beheaded at the order of a bastard that thought himself a King… and plunged the Realm into War because he wanted to be honorable.”
Cregan turned to see the Raven, who had stopped cawing and now spoke with the voice of a man. Now he didn´t look like a bird at all… he meant… it kept the dark wings of his avian kin and three eyes, but now had a humanoid body. A body enveloped in a black tunic that changed as it talked. First, it was that of a Child of the Forest, but suddenly it turned into that of a Man. And another and another.
“A war broke out because Eddard Stark wanted to keep his honor and the World of the Living paid for that. As when the Prince called for help against the Long Night, there wasn´t enough troops or people that answered. He failed and fell… and so did House Stark…”
It has turned now into an albino man with long white hair, a birthmark staining his face, and an eye empty. Now it became a young boy that had barely come into manhood, copper hair on top of his head, but with Stark features.
“Who are you?” Cregan asked.
“I´m the three Eyed Raven, Oracle of the Old Gods, and I have been entrusted to show you what will come to pass… so you take a decision.”
“What decision?” he certainly didn´t know how anything he did could have repercussions in a time so long after his death. He certainly couldn´t do anything now to prevent Rickard Stark´s southern ambitions or make Eddard Stark realize his honor is not worth enough to start a war. And if three children need to die so thousands more could live, then so be it. He didn´t like it either, but sacrifices need to be made for the greater good.
“To accept the mission that the Old Gods give you” the boy continued. “A last chance to undo what was done. A chance for House Stark to flourish to see the new dawn as it rose after the Long Night is over.”
“Then I, Lord Cregan Stark of Winterfell, accept this mission and duty.”
Cregan was pushed back into only his body in that moment. It seemed as if it hadn´t happened even a minute since he had kneeled in front of the weirwood. The direwolves were still there, and they howled again as the sap started to form a circle in the roots of the heart tree. Then it formed a sphere and this one solidify. The Lord of Winterfell didn´t dare to move from his place until the sphere burst and revealed a baby. This one cried and the wolves howled again.
HIS NAME IS DAEMOND AND HE IS ONE OF THE THREE… YOU MUST PROTECT HIM AND TEACH HIM TO BE A RULER, A TRUE LEADER OF THE NORTH, SO HE COULD GUIDE THEM IN DEFENCE OF THE LIVING IN THE ONLY WAR THAT MATTERS… EDDARD STARK FAILED AT THIS, DON´T FAIL OR YOUR HOUSE WILL BE TRULY LOST. DON´T FAIL, CREGAN STARK, AND WHEN HE IS READY SENT HIM TO HIS RELATIVES OF FIRE SO HE COULD CLAIM THE SWORD OF A SAVIOR. DON´T FAIL, FOR THIS IS YOUR LAST CHANCE.
“It will be done as you said”
Cregan assured and once more the weirwood and entire godswood became silent. Even the direwolves were gone. The Lord of Winterfell went and grabbed the babe, noticing it was a boy. He had dark eyes, so dark purple that they seemed black, and dark hair. He raised his head and for the first time noticed that he was not alone. His betrothed and several guards and servants were there too. They all looked in wonder at the child that the gods had just gifted their Lord.
“Arra, come” he asked his future wife, who did it immediately. “Say hello to our new son, Daemond.”
“Hello, little one” she said as she caressed his hair. “I will prepare the nursery immediately”
A few moon turns later, Cregan Stark got married to Arra Norrey under the weirwood, in the presence of Daemond, who looked attentively at them from the arms of his wetnurse. Despite the Lord of Winterfell´s swearing to silence everyone around him during the event, the rumor had spread like wildfire over the keeps on the North about the child blessed by the Old Gods, delivered to the new Lord of Winterfell. Every Lord attended the wedding, all of them more interested in the boy than their liege´s wedding. After the ceremony as a toast, the Lords yelled…
“To the Lord and Lady of Winterfell… and their Blessed Child!! May they live long!!”
“Cheers!!!”