5 Apex Predator 1/2

Author's note:

Phew! 3.7k words more for you guys! Seems like I am breaking the 15k words this week, and without creating the infamous "Ignore this" chapter :p.

I feel like this chapter turned out pretty well, and I hope you will like it!

See ya, at the end of the chapter!

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­­Wolfswood, The North - 287 AC

POV | Aegon Targaryen

He was riding in the front of the group, his eyesight was sharp, despite not doing the ritual yet, and he had the help of Freya on his shoulders for a 360̊ point of view.

Hugin and Munin were circling the area from above, giving him an insane advantage for scouting the area in which they were riding. That was why he chose to ride in the front, the others could not see him warging, when he had his back towards them. Besides, he only needed a second of the birds' point of view, so he didn't even start slouching before, was back in his own body.

'This is fun. Robert Baratheon isn't a complete idiot. The thrill of searching for prey, knowing that you might not come out on top, but having the confidence to put your life on the line despite it… The rush is amazing, and I haven't even found a prey yet.'

"Croooak! Stag!" Did he mention that he taught them the names of the animals he wanted to catch? These two were smart as hell. They might give Odin's friends a run for their money someday. 'I wish.'

He put his hands into position on the neck of his small courser, a young male, and warged into Hugin and Munin. His vision shifted, and he saw it immediately. A freaking huge stag with an enormous set of antlers. He had to kill it! The larger the antlers, the better the skin hardening in his ritual. With this guy, he might just be able to tank arrows from an average bow!

"Let's go!" He shouted to their group. The stag was too far away for it to hear them yet.

"Hugin and Munin have found prey. Well done, boys!"

The rest of the group looked slightly shocked at the talking ravens. Except Robb of course, he had helped teaching them. 'Didn't expect that, did ya?'

They moved closer to the stag, Aegon had led them towards its back. Reaching it from the side, would have just alerted it. He raised his hand when they were a hundred yards, 91 meters, from the great animal. He locked eyes with Robb, and his cousin gave him a slight nod.

His bow was effective up towards 200 yards, 183 meters, so he figured it should be strong enough for a headshot from half the distance.

The stag was larger than he had ever seen. Considering the way The Old Gods worked, they might have sent it because of his prayers by The Heart Tree last night. He did not believe that it was a coincidence that he found exactly what he needed only two hours after they left Winterfell.

[Image Here]

Aegon took a deep breath as he pulled the string of his bow.

His courser stood absolutely still; it was as if it could feel that moving would be a bad idea right now.

His blood was pumping. His focus razor sharp. All his senses were strained, as he let the arrow soar towards the stag.

Just before it hit, he made a loud noise: "Haaargh!"

The stag turned its head in shock, and the arrow hit home right through its eye.

He let out a boisterous laugh. "That's how it's done, baby!"

Jory Cassel rode up beside him and gave him a clap on the back. "Aye, very well shot Jon! That's one hell of a stag you took down there. It might just be related to The Baratheons haha!"

"Well done boy!"

"The accuracy, damn!"

"Great shot, Jon! But the next is mine!"

Aegon let out a small smile of happiness at the last comment from the squeaky voice of his cousin.

"Thanks lads! Of course, Robb. I just really wanted to kill a stag." His tone of voice turned slightly mischievous at the end. He looked at his uncle out of the corner of his eyes as he made that statement. 'How cute, little Ned is looking a little pale.'

"Men! Let's go pick it up!" He shouted as he made his courser move towards his first substantial kill. Hugin and Munin were already perched on its antlers.

"Aye aye, Lord Snow!" One of them shouted, the atmosphere turned boisterous, as they rode towards the first kill of the day. The two servants with the cart and Eddard Stark stayed in the back, whilst Robb rode up to the side of Aegon.

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POV | Eddard Stark

The two looked almost regal as they rode side by side.

He could not help but imagine them both older. Jon in Black and Red armour, and Robb riding slightly behind him in the colours of The Starks.

He feared that future more than he would like to admit.

'Sending him away might be for the best, after all. If Robb keeps hanging to his every word, and Jon eventually discovers his true name, they might just decide to go for the Iron Throne.'

He remembered the bloodbath the last war turned into.

"Never again." He muttered under his breath.

'Please, Ned.' He shook his head. This was the best way.

They would throw the realm into chaos if they did that. Besides, Robert's firstborn son is 5 name days now. With Jon at The Wall, Robb could always make other relations. Who better than the son of his brother in all but blood?

'Ptui. Vile dragon spawn.' He could hear the disgust in Robert's voice as he laid eyes on the ruined bodies of the kids, and their bisected and defiled mother. Blood was everywhere, even though they were not killed in the Throne Room. Little Aegon's head wasn't even there. Pulverized by The Mountain.

Little Rhaenys had been stabbed so many times that nothing of her face was even left. The Manticore Knight was even more venomous than the monster on his banner.

The man who was happy when he saw those bodies was not his brother. That was someone who had lost everything. Robert did not mean it, he was sure. Just in case he was wrong, he would keep Jon away from him. For Lyanna. 'Please, Ned.'

He shook his head once more and looked towards the two boys who stood beside the large stag. He could not help but rehear the words of Jon: 'I just really wanted to kill a stag.'

'He never says anything for no reason. He is too calculated for that. Does he know? Of course not. That's too far away from the rumours he has heard his whole life. He probably believes the one about Brandon and Ashara, it's the only reason I can think of that would make him call me Lord Stark instead of father. Is Catelyn right about him coveting what he thinks is his birthright? Impossible. What am I missing?'

Schwing. Schwing.

Jon made the two cuts perfectly, with his short sword, before he picked up the antlers and tied them to his horse. He probably wanted them as a trophy. It was his first kill after all. 'The wolf's blood is strong in this one.'

He looked down at the frozen ground, and bit harshly into his lower lip. He was not raised for this. It was not supposed to be his mess. 'Had I just met with Rhaegar for that damned parley.' His fists were clenched, and his entire body tense, as he thought his decisions through. The walls were closing in, and he could only pray to The Old Gods that his decision was the right one.

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Hours later

POV | Aegon Targaryen

It had been a very fruitful hunt, with mainly herbivores as their prey. The stag alone was almost 300 lbs, 136 kg. The fact that he managed to move it for more than a yard by his strength, showed exactly how strong he had grown by now. He was looking forward to being capable of slinging a beast like that up on his shoulders someday. 'I might be able to wrestle a dire wolf when I am fully grown.'

Even Robb had been successful, he managed to kill pheasants, rabbits, and a small buck. They had meat for weeks right now. Enough for the entire Keep.

Aegon could not help but laugh at that. An 8 name days Robb was better than a Joffrey Waters at 16 name days. 'That guy was so freaking pathetic. Heck, he needed a crossbow to hunt a tied-up prostitute and a pregnant cat. Waste of space, indeed.'

He could not help but laugh as he thought of what his uncle would cause by letting that guy keep a claim on the crown. He shook his head in disgust. 'Bloody stag-sucker. Hope you get cucked by Petyr.'

Freya licked his chin a couple of times to remove those thoughts. "Thanks, girl." He gave her a gentle look as he rubbed her below her chin, and she purred in satisfaction. 'Her empathy is out of the charts. My mind state would be out of control if she didn't cheer me up so often.'

"I would be lost without you three, you know?" She gave him a haughty look. 'Of course, she knew, even female animals have crazy intuition.' He chuckled at that. Hugin and Munin just puffed their little chests out in pride. 'Smug little bastards.' This time his chuckle turned into actual laughter.

"Hey guys, do you think, you can do me a favour?" He had their full attention now.

"I think we should add a few friends to our group. I am thinking either a hawk, eagle, or a falcon." The birds looked slightly dissatisfied by that.

"No, I am not going to replace you. You're the scouts. Intelligence gathering experts. You're smart. All three of you. We need a damage dealer now. Someone fast and ruthless. Feel like helping me?" Aegon placated them quickly, and decisively stroked their egos.

It worked. The ravens pushed their chests out and croaked in agreement before they soared towards the tree top and took off in a direction each.

"No, you don't need to leave, Freya. I love keeping you close." If cats could smile, then this was it. She licked his face and curled up around his neck.

"Thanks, sweetness." She purred slightly, and they descended into a comfortable silence.

'Being able to talk to animals and have them understand is probably the greatest magic there is. Period. It is so satisfying and calming. Their loyalty is overwhelming, I wonder what a magical animal will feel like…'

They had made camp less than an hour ago, and one of the guardsmen had started cooking some of the meat we had hunted. Considering we were a group of 10, it was quite the sizable fire he had created. Robb was almost vibrating in excitement since they would be eating the pheasants he had shot. He was absolutely sure that they were the best tasting pheasants to ever set their claws on Planetos.

'I might be a child in many ways like my size, bodily functions and even emotionally, but my mindset is just too jaded to look upon the world with the same naivete that he can. It is refreshing to see the innocent happiness he can exude by his mere existence.'

Ned had a small smile on his face as well. Even his eyes seemed a tad softer than normal, as he was watching his heir.

The guardsmen were boisterous and telling stories of their glorious fights during the recent rebellion. The general spirit of the group was great at the moment.

Aegon did not exactly know how to feel about that. A lot of good men died during that fight; his father included. A slight feeling of melancholy hit him as he thought about how much that Rebellion actually cost him. A brief look at the stag he shot earlier, and a small rub of comfort from Freya, filled him with a new resolve.

He needed to know the truth of that rebellion. There were so many conspiracies in this world and his past one. He needed to know exactly what happened, else he would be acting blind, and that might end up costing him more than he was willing to pay.

He could sum it up to three things that he needed to know at all costs.

Did his mother try to tell her family where she went, or was she actually kidnapped and raped by Rhaegar? He could feel her love, before he passed out, but could that just have been the Stockholm Syndrome kicking in? He hoped not.

Why the fuck did his Uncle Brandon go crazy and start screaming for Rhaegar to come out and die in Kings Landing? This made zero sense to Aegon. His Uncle was raised as an heir to an 8000-year-old Kingdom. He was wild and emotional, yes. He was never described as idiotic or dumb though.

The last truth, he absolutely needed, was of his own family. Why was he named Aegon if his brother was already named Aegon? Was there any sort of truth to Elia being unable to have children of her own after Rhaenys? He had thought a lot about it in his previous life, but it made even less sense to him now. If the Greensight Bran the Broken saw of Aegon's parents marrying was true, then it might answer his first question, but it would create a thousand new ones.

'There are too many unsolved mysteries surrounding the demise of my family. I need answers.'

He shook his head slightly. He had time to figure it all out. He had an uncle at The Wall who might be able to answer some of it, even. He had forgotten that in his rage, initially, but as soon as he cooled down, he started planning anew, by brainstorming everything he knew of The Wall.

He was actually hopeful now. As long as they allowed him to hunt on his own, or he could sneak out at times, he would have ample chances to improve drastically during his 5-year stay.

His attention was brought back to the talks around the campfire when a new speaker started to regale them with his tales of bravery.

One particular guard, Harold, was trying to convince the other's that he was the guy who mortally wound Prince Lewyn Martell, before he was slain by Ser Lyn Corbray during the Battle of The Trident.

"I am tellin' ya lads! It was I who wounded him!" he said to the loud guffaws of the others. Even Eddard seemed to find the claim humorous, despite his usual stoic and distant look whenever the Rebellion was brought up.

"Try te pull another one Harold. That's a bloody lie if I ever heard one!" another guard exclaimed.

The Captain of the Guards at Winterfell, Jory Cassel, laughed as well. "Ser Lewyn was one of the best knights to ever join The Kingsguard, you wanker. You can barely hit me, and I would have been killed against Ser Lewyn if he had a wooden spoon, not to mention his sword." He laughed again just to underline his point.

Even Aegon and Robb joined the laughing now much to the chagrin of Harold.

"I swear! He did not even see me co-"

A swoosh sound interrupted his speech as an arrow hit him straight in the left eye, and killed him instantly, much like how Aegon killed the stag earlier.

The camp descended into a morbid silence as all laughter died out and Robb exclaimed in shock. A loud 'THUNK' was heard as Harold's body hit the ground.

Aegon crouched down instantly and warged into Hugin and Munin to call them back. He wanted to hit himself for not having them scout the area around them. 'Where the fuck did they even come from? This was such a rookie mistake. I didn't think the damn wildlings would be moving this far North so early in the timeline. Mance Rayder is still a damn member of The Night's Watch. This is too early.'

He was lucky though. Hugin and Munin would arrive in a minute maximum. He was fortunate that ravens were almost twice as fast in Westeros compared to his previous world. Hugin and Munin were even faster still. He needed them to bring his spear, since he only had his sword attached to his belt and his throwing knives right now.

The Stark entourage rose as one as soon as Harold's body hit the ground. They stood protectively around Robb, Ned and Aegon. A clear sign that they would die before letting anything happen to the three of them. Ned was not a normal Lord though. He stepped out of the circle to stand beside his men.

Their loyalty, training and duty was engrained into their bodies. The lord they followed was one who lead by example, and that only endeared him to his soldiers. The Stark guards were devoted to their liege and his progeny for a reason.

They all had light armour on, so they would not die from arrows unless they hit them above their unprotected necks, and this is what allowed them to block the next two out of four arrows, as two more hit home and killed the guard who had called Harold out on his story earlier as well as the one pulling the cart.

Their bows were similar to Aegon's own, so he knew their arrows could fly around 175 feet per second. That was a staggering 53 metres a second. With less than half that between the distance between them, you would have to be looking at, or in the direction of, the archer shooting at you to avoid it.

A group of about two and twenty wildlings walked out of the tree line. Seven and ten in the front, in a semi-circle and the last five with bows in the back. Their numerical advantage was staggering. While they might not have particularly good equipment, they were seemingly the only ones with a ranged advantage.

A large man, the leader of the group, laughed loudly and mockingly.

"Look at these fuckin' Kneelers! Shakin' in their shiny boots. Five grown and two small. The two little lads look as pretty as girls, capture them for some fun. For the old… Kill 'em and take their shit!!"

The men raised their weapons in the air and started shouting, but before they could charge, three archers and the leader stilled as their foreheads were adorned with what looked like a black horn each.

Aegon's black throwing knives showed their advantage in the dark. The fact that he was standing behind the guards also allowed him to pull the knives out and throw them, without their opponents ever getting the chance to see it happening.

The almost charging group stopped in shock, to look down at their fallen leader and comrades. Another fatal mistake.

Aegon's hours of practice showed their importance now. He threw his remaining two knives as soon as they looked at their comrades in shock. The two blades killed their last archers, one in the throat and another through the eye. Their ranged advantage died with them.

Their anger rose, and they started moving towards their group. Cautiously.

A cold but childlike voice sounded out in the tense silence of the clearing.

"Disgusting barbarians. You talk too much." He pulled his short sword out of its scabbard and walked up beside the guards and his uncle. The sword shone ominously in the light of the bonfire before he pushed the tip in and allowing the well-oiled sword to burst into flames.

He turned his head sharply towards the wildlings, the light of the flames was reflected in the eyes of himself and his trusty companion Freya. She looked at them imperiously from her spot on his left shoulder. There was murder in her eyes that glowed like wildfire because of their plans for her Master.

Meanwhile, Aegon's blood was pumping. He thought hunting was amazing, but the fact that he might die… The violence in him. The anger he had for the world. Every single time someone wanted to take something from him. They even wanted his dignity now. No. No more.

His past life. This life. His uncle not letting him have a measly two turns of the moon more with his cousins. The mere idea being called a waste of resources by his uncle.

That he just killed six men in seconds. Gone. Their words rung out inside his mind again. These people did not care. They wanted the blood and the humiliation of men they had never met. 'Why?!'

This nonsensical violence that he had read about, but never truly understood.

The mortality of man. A pleasant trip and humorous outing, turning into this.

Everything hit him at once and the shackles he wrapped around himself burst open, as his anger spread across his face that had been tilted low. Glowing orbs of purple hatred shone.

'These beasts want me humiliated and broken. My sweet and innocent cousin humiliated and raped. My friends and family dead. They want to take more from ME. NO! NO! NO! NO MORE!'

The madness, sadness, and hatred that was lurking within for more than two decades, broke loose.

Less than 10 seconds had passed since the last archer had died.

His laughter, broken and harsh, sounded out across the clearing, deeper and denser than an almost 8 name days old boy should ever be capable of.

The wildlings were almost upon them now, some flinched at the ghastly sound and the fact that it came from a boy.

Aegon smiled ferally. The anger and madness of a Dragon and a Direwolf etched across his handsome visage. The blade of fire in his hand started blazing.

"Let's Dance."

Shouts of rage and pain sounded as the groups of six versus six and ten clashed in a deadly dance, as steel started singing and men dying in a symphony of chaos and pain.

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Author's note:

Yes. I did that. I freaking love that quote, and I could not stop myself. I was considering the "Death? Not today.", but Madara won the imaginary battle in my mind.

I feel like a few of the tidbits about the MC's mindstate came together in this chapter, and I am pretty happy about the outcome.

Ned's POV is kinda short, but if you read it through, there is a LOT between the lines.

The initial outcome with all six knives hitting a target is mainly because the MC is hidden and it is too dark for the wildlings to see the black throwing knives he is using. Besides, they came into the clearing cocky as fuck because of their numerical advantage, and Aegon showed them their folly.

The next chapter will be the battle!

This will be my last chapter for this week, so I will see you monday or tuesday morning! Hopefully monday!

Future updates: I've earlier mentioned my schedule, but I will write it again for good measure:

10-15k words a week. Which will probably be 3-5 chapters instead of 4-7 considering that my last ones have been long as fuck haha.

See ya!