15 Chapter 15: A Hunt With The Wolf. 120 AC

[1st POV]

I stood in between the trees of the Wolfswood near Winterfell as I stalked my prey. In my right hand was my bow, Dragon's Bane, with the arrows strapped behind my back. I was wearing thick clothing, courtesy of the one who asked me to go hunting.

In front of me was a majestic stag that roamed this land, seemingly minding his own business, eating whatever grass he could find in this frozen woods.

"Look at that magnificent beast." the boy who asked me to go hunting grinned. "This'll be a good hunt."

I grabbed his shoulder, stopping him from moving closer to the beast. He looked at me weirdly, but soon knew what I would do as I stood up quietly, with my bow in front.

I started to pull the string, even with the strengthening rune this thing is still hard to pull, I could barely manage. I held my breath, aimed the arrow, and loosen the string.

The force of the whiplash is so hard that a small shockwave was created around me. The arrow that I unleashed quickly penetrated the stag's head, piercing through his brain cleanly.

"Good shot!" the boy beside me said. "Let's find another one."

"No, you find another one." I scoffed. "This is my third kill, who're you trying to feed? The whole Winterfell?"

"Well you've destroyed their heads every time!" the boy countered. "I wanted a stag on my wall."

"Well you hunt yourself then." I said. "I'm not your servant."

"Well this will be my land. I will soon be lord of Winterfell." said the boy sternly. "So you better watch yourself."

"Fuck off." I chuckled.

Suddenly, a man riding a horse approached us. It was a middle aged man, wearing a Stark gambeson.

"Uncle? Why are you here?" said the boy.

"Cregan. How many times have I told you that you cannot just bolt off to the Wolfswood without saying anything to anyone." said the uncle. "You are just a boy!"

"I'm old enough to hunt by myself." said Cregan defiantly. "Uncle, you should tend to my father instead of babbling nonsense in front of me."

"We have a guest Cregan, don't show your defiant self. You will soon be Lord of Winterfell, act like one."

Cregan, instead of nodding, spat on his uncle, making him grumble.

"You will do 500 swings when you come back." threatened the uncle.

"Fuck off."

This is quite amusing…

The uncle turned towards me. "I apologize for my nephew's rude behavior earlier, Maegor."

"It's fine, Lord Bennard." I said. "That's why I like his company. An annoying brat, yet amusing."

"You're only one year older than me!" Cregan yelled.

Like I said, an annoying brat.

—

As Darkness consumed the world, I sat upon the wall of Winterfell, admiring the sight of the vastness of the north.

Below were the soldiers and guards, feasting from the three stags that I hunted earlier. They are laughing and drinking to their heart's content, seemingly unbothered by the cold.

"I know that face." said a voice behind me. It was Cregan, he sat on the wall beside me, watching the same sight. "You are thinking too deeply. Like those old maesters."

"I have a lot in my mind right now, Cregan." I continued. "My mother's dying. And I am to inherit Runestone."

"Then why are you here?" asked Cregan, biting a piece of meat from his plate. "Wait, I thought you don't want to take it?"

"Yeah, I don't." I shrugged. "My whole life I've been living on two names, not really knowing who I am. In Runestone, they call me Andar, and to the rest of the kingdom, I am known as Maegor. So who am I supposed to be? The Heir of Runestone, or Daemon Targaryen's son?"

"You could just change your name entirely." Cregan shrugged. "Isn't that the most simple solution?"

"It's about the last name, not the first name."

"Then make your own house," said Cregan. "A house of Valyrian and First Men descend."

"So I'll become a landless house?"

"Brother, your uncle's the king." said Cregan, as if it was the most obvious thing to say.

"But I can't just give up on Runestone. It's my mother's seat."

"Look," said Cregan. "Your problem is your name. You want to keep both of them, yet get rid of them at the same time. Then change it, it's that easy."

"You northerners are all simpleminded." I sighed.

"Or we're just that good at problem solving." Cregan countered.

"I have two dragons, Cregan." I said. "Well, one to be specific, the other is just freeloading, but still, in the eyes of the other houses, I have two."

"So?

"Have you ever heard of a non-Valyrian house owning a dragon?" I asked. "No, right? Why? Because there's a reason. The power balance between the crown and the nobles are heavily based on dragons, so if I am to change my name to a Royce, then I'll be of a non-Valyrian house, and all of the nobles eyes are upon me, even the Arryns, who I will swore an oath to if I am to inherit Runestone, will bear some kind of envy and hatred towards house Royce, endangering everyone."

"Well, if someone were to wage war upon your house, House Stark will stand before you." Cregan said. "But my advice still stands. Make a new house, claiming Valyrian descent."

"And what of Royce? They have thousands of years of history?"

"There's still the cadet branch." Shrugged Cregan. "Or you could mix their culture. I do not know the intricacies of it, but you will figure it out somehow."

Hmm… that sounds tempting…

"And hey. If you ever need a bride. I have a sister." said Cregan.

"You have a sister? Since when?"

"Many moons ago," said Cregan. "Her name is Sara, she's a bastard though."

"How old is she?"

"Six."

The fuck? "Fuck off." I grumbled.

"Don't overthink things, friend." said Cregan, standing up from the wall. "Just enjoy life as it is. If you're in any trouble, remember that House Stark will always be a haven to you."

I scoffed. "You sound like you own Winterfell already."

"I was having my moment." Cregan grumbled. "Why must you always ruin it?"

"I am only waking you up from reality, friend." I chuckled. "It goes both ways. If you need anything from me, just ask, me and Vermithor will always be ready."

Cregan scoffed arrogantly. "I doubt that I will need your help."