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Aegon The Dragon King - GoT/ASOIAF SI

This story will be one of an MC fighting his inner demons and growing up physically, mentally and emotionally. It is not a Gary Stu story. The story is going to be long, 300k+ is my current estimate, so you can expect a lot of growing. He won't be at his peak immediately either, as that is boring to write. Important premise for the story: NO NTR against the MC. I cannot and I do not want to read or write it. Too painful and disgusting. For his physical stats: What is achievable will be based on peak human existences from our world. Children and adults alike. ________________________________________________________________ A young orphan is thrown into the chaotic world of Got/ASOIAF with three limited wishes. "Unlimite-" "No." "Sung Jin-" "No." "Super Saiy-" "No." "An army of Poke-" 'Sigh' "No." "One Poke-" "No. Well, a Zigzagoon, maybe." "No thanks, then. Marve-" "Are you retarded? No. Remember the damn parameters I set." "I am gonna die..." "You already did, stop being a pussy or I will regret ever giving you this chance."

TigerOfTheWest · TV
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27 Chs

Treasure hunt 1/3

Author's note: Sorry for the delay, I realized that my chapter had hit 6k, and it still wasn't done, so I have decided to split it up, so I can post something today. First part: 2.95k words.

16.8k/40k words - Deadline: 6/11-22 at 10 pm CET.

I finally gave a proper POV of Catelyn in the last chapter, and I am glad that it was received so well. She made mistakes but I honestly don't think she is irredeemable in the grand scheme of things.

Anyway, enjoy the chapter!

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Winterfell, The Courtyard | 289 AC - A Day after

POV | Eddard Stark

Eddard might have been leaving for war, but that did not actually scare him too much. He had won a more dangerous one at the tender age of six and ten, and after approximately ten years, he had only become better and stronger. The impatience and emotional fighting of a youth with a recently murdered family was also gone.

He was Ice embodied. The sword that was strapped to the side of his horse seemed to agree. Most would think it impractical to fight with, and it was true indoors, but in open combat, very few ever got the chance to come near him when he turned into a blizzard of death and dismembered men. Especially when he was in full armour, unlike his unfortunate encounter with wildlings two years ago.

He might not be at the level of Arthur Dayne, but he had killed The Black Bat, Oswell Whent in single combat and helped Ethan Glover and Theo Wull slay Gerold Hightower. An encounter the two other northern warriors did not survive.

Then again, very few men could ever hope to compare to The Sword of Morning. 'Brandon might have stood a chance in a prolonged duel with a shield and Ice. Unless Arthur cut the shield in two with Dawn…'

Eddard had watched Ser Arthur cut through some of the most capable warriors of The North as if they were simple peasant wielding wooden spears, and not the monsters who combined had slain hundreds in combat during the harrowing Rebellion.

Martyn Cassel, Ser Mark Ryswell, Howland Reed, and Lord Willam Dustin, had stood absolutely no chance as he whirled around them blocking and slashing with his two swords. Eddard could remember thinking that he had never seen anyone move more gracefully in combat, and before he could even dismiss the awe, Ser Ryswell and Martyn Cassel had lost their heads.

Just as he rushed towards them to help Lord Dustin and Lord Reed, Willam was cut in two by Dawn and Howland was stabbed through the side in what seemed to be a fatal wound at the time.

Now, Eddard was an agility and strength-based fighter, he had to be to survive against Robert in the sparring yard, but he had never been pushed as hard as he had during this fight with the brother of the woman he loved.

He had been disarmed, and just as Arthur was about to behead him, Howland Reed had attacked The Sword of The Morning from his blind point. The ambush had ultimately failed as Arthur had seen Reed move in the reflection of a sword on the ground, but it had given Eddard enough time to scuttle back and grab his sword again.

The precious seconds he won kept giving him new chances of survival as Lyanna's terrible scream made Arthur retreat from the fight to return to her side. An action that allowed the rest of them to stay alive and arrive home once more. 'Thank the Old Gods for that.'

He looked upon his wonderful family as they had all gathered before him to send him off. He smiled at them; an expression reserved entirely for them.

As he was preparing to ride off, he felt lighter than he had done in a decade. His secret was shared with his wife, and he did not have to keep up the mummery. He felt like cursing and hugging Benjen at the same time.

The conversation he had with Catelyn the night before was truly long overdue. She had been much more understanding than he had thought she would be.

'I'm pretty sure I can thank Aegon for that. I'm incredibly proud that he could put their past behind him so fast. It must be his incredible memory from such a young age that has allowed him to become as mature as he is.'

Every single scenario he had envisioned when she found out had been proven untrue and merely products of an overactive and pessimistic mindset. 'She is the mother of my four children. Mayhap five when I return from the war. I should have trusted her more.'

She had been surprisingly understanding of the fact that she should not tell even her birth family anything, no matter how much she trusted them. He had thanked her for that. Passionately and repeatedly…

He looked around, trying to assimilate all the enhanced impressions he got through the three rituals his nephew had shown him. Enhanced bones, balance, and sense of danger. His nephew had giggled and called it the spider tingle, whatever that meant. Who would have thought that unholy pain, dead animals, and ritualistic circles could give such benefits?

He was slightly unnerved by the fact that Aegon had found such arcane knowledge, but when he had been pulled aside along with Benjen and Robb and Aegon had explained just what those rituals would mean for their survivability, he had decided to go through with them. Little meant more to him than his families, besides, what was the difference in eating or using an animal in rituals? Both kept them alive.

That Aegon had already done seven in a day truly showed his sheer grit, because Eddard had needed to space out the three between two days. He was still shivering because of the aftereffects of having his bones remade into steel like creations.

Benjen had done them right along with him, and Aegon had explained the best way for Robb to go about doing it. Ned had been slightly apprehensive about letting his heir go through that kind of pain, but Robb could be more stubborn than a mule, and considering how much it would actually mean for Robb's future, he decided to let him do it.

He would do seven within the next fortnight, and three more after he turned nine name days in three weeks. 'Another name day that I will miss because of war.'

He came to a stop before his eldest daughter, her eyes were wet with tears, and he felt his heart clench at the sight. He went down on one knee, and she hugged him tightly whilst she sobbed silently. "Don't worry my sweet little wolf, I'll be back soon." Whispered the Lord of Winterfell. She nodded into the crook of his neck, and he pulled back and planted a soft kiss on her tearstained cheek.

His heir stood, with a stoic expression on his face, and a faint wobble on his lower lip, and Ned almost broke into a smile at the sight. He would not embarrass him by doing so though, so he just pulled him into a brief hug before he planted a hand on his shoulder and looked into his grey-blue eyes that seemed to turn more Stark with every passing year.

"Son, You're the Lord of Winterfell in my absence. Take care of our family. When the snows fall, and the white winds blow…"

He got a resolute nod from him, and Robb continued their unofficial family words: "…the lone wolf dies, but the pack survives. Give them Ice, Father."

Eddard smiled proudly at him, and he couldn't help but ruffle his hair. It might be the last time he ever got to do it after all. "Winter is coming."

He turned to his beautiful and understanding wife, he never thought he would ever love another woman as he loved Ashara, yet he was proven wrong. His foster father had always told him that it was wrong to love two women, but then again, when he had shared his woes with Benjen and Aegon had overheard, they had both laughed at his plight.

'When did the Old Gods command that a man could only love one woman?' they had asked him, and he grew slightly stunned at that thought. He tried to remember a time, where he had ever heard anything about the Gods on that and he quickly realized that he had erroneously mixed the seven up with the Gods of the Forest. He could love both without feeling guilty about anything but the promise he broke with Ashara.

Catelyn took his hand, and he used the other to pull her and Arya closer into a hug. He kissed his fiery daughter on the crown of her head, and he was rewarded with small fist trying to hit him before he dodged and chuckled at the wild little girl who was scowling at his audacity.

Even Catelyn was trying to stifle a grin by biting into her plump lower lip, and Ned felt a slight hunger when he looked upon his gorgeous Lady. He could have enjoyed the next fifty years in her embrace, yet duty called, and he would have to turn into a monster for a time so he could return to the life he had built for himself in the last nine years.

His left hand grabbed hold of her neck and he rubbed it gently before her eyes met his own, and he pulled her into a passionate kiss.

They only stopped when their firstborn started groaning in disgust and they both stepped away from each other with slight blushes on their cheeks. Catelyn sent Robb a glare and Eddard allowed himself to chuckle this time. He smiled his small smile at them before he pressed a chaste kiss to Catelyn's lips one last time and whispered for her ears only. "I love you."

The look of adoration he got from her in return, and the looks of sadness he saw in the eyes of his kids, gave him all the resolve he would need to come back whole. He turned his back towards them and rode out towards the army waiting outside Wintertown ready to march.

For the first time in his life, Lord Eddard Stark felt like a fucking wolf ready to tear the Realm apart, if it meant getting back to what he had here.

It was a feeling he had always lacked, something he had envied his brother for when he was younger. For so long he had felt like a pretender in his own home. But Winterfell was finally starting to feel like it now. Home.

His nephew was standing by his men with the war drums, and his voice carried across the field, allowing his powerful lungs to roar a war song to motivate the soldiers.

♫ "This is not another story

This is not another drill

I refuse to be another number now, never staying down

This is something real

I'm a name that you'll remember

I am more than just a thrill

I am gonna be the greatest ever now, watch out

I'm a force that you will feel

And it goes something like

Ooh

I'm victorious

Ooh

It's my time

Ooh

There's no stopping this

'Cause I was born for this

I do it for the glory (whoa, whoa)

I do it for the glory (whoa, whoa)

I do it for the glory (whoa, whoa)

I do it for the glory (whoa, whoa)" ♫

Aegon stopped and the men cheered in approval before they started a chant in sync with the heavy war drums.

"GLORY!"

"GLORY!"

"GLORY!"

The Quiet Wolf gazed upon the men who stood before him. His eyes had a predatory glint in them, as he looked at his men calculatingly. As they quietened down, he moved beside his nephew, they nodded at each other, the respect and love they had for each other, obvious. Aegon was wearing a peculiar pendant around his neck, but Ned decided to let the slight curiosity rest.

Lord Stark raised a fist in the air and roared.

"FOR THE NORTH!"

He turned around, signalling the start of their travels and the men echoed him in a thunderous roar, as they started marching.

"THE NORTH!"

"THE NORTH!"

"THE NORTH!"

"STARK!"

"STARK!"

"STARK!"

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Winterfell, The Crypt | 289 AC - Robbs name day

POV | Robb Stark

Their plan was a stroke of pure genius. Robbs name day was celebrated by the entire Keep, and even the guards were drinking slightly more than they probably should.

The had distracted them easily enough, by having Aegon cloaking up and throwing rocks at them. With the guards being slightly inebriated, they both set off after him, but they would never be able to catch his cousin in an urban, forested, or rocky setting.

Rodrik, Domeric, Torrhen, and Eddard were with Robb and Aegon's two wolves as they travelled down The Crypts, with no one the wiser. 'This is so fucking dark. I am glad I did those rituals, even if they hurt fucking much, and turned my eyes grey.'

That had been their greatest surprise. He had gone through seven rituals before his ninth name day, and each and everyone of them had changed his senses as well as his colouring.

'Aegon theorized that the use of rituals using First Men runes and Weirwood paste, resulted in a strengthening of the First Men Blood in me. I am just glad that the change came gradually over a fortnight, and not from one day to the other. Would have been incredibly hard to explain.'

Robb had decided on the Falcon-Eye ritual to honour his companion, and the lesser pain it brought, might have been a deciding factor as well, he would not admit to that though. Another deciding factor was that Hawk-eye was based on the Old Tongue instead of Ghiscari…

Wolf-vision was chosen along with several other wolf-based rituals. 'Who wants to be a goat? At least Jon chose the Feline-ritual, I would have laughed at him for the rest of his life if he actually did Goats-Grace.'

The rest of the boys were fumbling in the dark, but Robb could see everything as clear as day. 'Is this love?' He was not sure but being a super-wolf-badass-human made him feel warm and happy inside. 'Or is it excitement?'

They had left the door slightly ajar, so Jon could follow in quickly and close the doors behind him. Robb used his enhanced hearing to try to pinpoint Jon's location, but it was pretty hard. 'How does he move so quietly? It's like all his animal companions. They are freakishly silent when they want to be.'

He had been surprised when his enhanced hearing had not saved him from the pranking shenanigans of Fenris, Hel, and Freya. They were well-trained, but their mastery in quiet walking was maddeningly annoying for the new Homo superior.

'What's even worse is that Freke and Gere are even worse. They're still 'pups', but they are even quieter than the rest of them.' He closed his eyes to focus on his hearing, and then he finally caught his heartbeat, nearing the door.

"He is coming now, don't make any sounds until he closes the doors."

He could see them nodding quietly, why the bothered he knew not, they did not know that he could see them after all.

Jon stepped in soundlessly on his fur covered leather shoes, and two canines with bloodred glowing eyes stepped in with him. 'Fuck, I didn't even hear them! How are their heartbeats so quiet?!'

Jon closed the door as quietly as humanely possible, before he turned towards them, his amethyst eyes almost glowing in the dark. With the wolves on each side of him, they looked like a menacing triangle of death and gloom. He could hear the other boys gulping in slight fear.

Jon bright a finger up, to signalize for Robb to keep quiet, and he nodded slightly as Jon brought forth a torch and lit it on fire without any external tools. 'Holy fuck! How did he do that!' Robb wanted to learn that trick for sure!

"Well then lads, let's hunt!" Jon said with a low but excited timbre to his voice.

They all nodded as one, as they started moving about the first level of The Crypt.

"Who are those?" asked a curious Torrhen as they arrived before the last added statues.

"Lord Rickard Stark, Heir Brandon Stark, and Lyanna Stark." Answered Jon with a solemn tone Robb seldomly heard from his brother. He scrutinized quickly, he was almost about to ask how he knew, until he realized they were the three latest additions. 'Of course, it would be those three.'

"Oh, The Wandering Wolf and The She-Wolf. My father talks about them a lot. He used to say that all the Northern heirs wanted her as their wife, yet she was meant for the Stag and stolen by the Dragon." Commented Rodrik. "No offense, but the statue makes it kind of hard to believe that they fought a war for her."

A dark chuckle escaped Jon that sent shivers down their collective backs, as he turned his face towards them, the flame reflected in his eyes mad Robb feel like he was looking into the eyes of a predator. For a second he almost felt like he did not know his brother.

"I used to visit her quite often at one point, and Lord Stark caught me whilst I was down here." His voice was almost as quiet as Roose Bolton's, and it forced the others to strain to listen to what he had to say.

They could feel that it would be one of Jon's epical revelations and they were all looking forward to hearing what he had to say.

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Author's note: The Quiet Wolf is here!

Ned is in wolf-mode! Let's go!

Rituals, hell yeah! Gotta make the family stronger, despite the decreased effects due to a weaker magical location and the timing being less than ideal as well as them being incapable of healing fast enough to finish the rituals in a timely manner.

Still, they get stronger. I dropped a little hint about the effect of rituals as well.

I used a slight cliffhanger this time. The next chapter will be out tomorrow, where we'll reach the halfway goal of 20k words.

See ya!