Chapter 6

Kings Landing, Small Council, Early 266 AC (About a year and a half time skip)

"My lords, your grace, I once again bring news from the North." Edwell Celtigar, the Master of Whisperers, addressed the Small Council. Edwell has been very unhappy recently, most of his spies in the north have simply disappeared, and each one still left reports very troubling news.

"If it is news about that damned House Frostwood, you can save it. The King need not be corrupted by your false words of grumpkins and snarks." Grandmaester Pycelle of the Citadel dismissed the information with a wave of his hand.

"Grandmaester, twice is a coincidence, but there becomes a point where it is simply undeniable. Every single spy I have in the North has told tales of massive cities which have sprung up from seemingly thin air, and all of it leads back to one man, Atlas Frostwood." Edwell tried to reason once again.

"I agree with Lord Edwell, the North has also increased their taxes paid recently, and they have almost completely stopped buying food from the Reach and the Riverlands. That has never happened before. It may not be magic, but there is evidence which supports the Master of Whisperers words. Every rumor has a seed of truth," Tywin Lannister, the Hand of The King, added to his perspective, before turning to the King, "Your grace, perhaps you can summon this Atlas Frostwood to Kings Landing? He has yet to swear fealty as is customary for new houses."

"I would recommend against this, your grace. You may all call me a madman, but I am sure of this man's power. Tales of dragons permeate throughout the North, and there is no feasible explanation for their newfound prosperity beyond magic. Maybe we can reach out to Lord Stark instead?" Edwell suggested.

"Dragons?" Aerys II, King of the Seven Kingdoms, showed interest. The mention of dragons stirred memories of the tragedy of Summerhall, where most of his family died in a botched attempt to hatch dragons.

"Yes, your grace, dragons, over a dozen. Supposedly Lord Frostwood's dragon is bigger than Balerion ever was," Edwell continued.

"You dare lie to the King? Keep your falsities-"

"My lords, your grace, while we should take this with a grain of salt, I do not see why Lord Edwell would lie on this matter. Mayhaps we should trust him," Symond Staunton, the master of laws, intervened.

"I agree with Lord Staunton, your grace. I would recommend you send a letter to Lord Stark to ask for his confirmation on this matter," Tywin added.

"Edwell, you are sure of these tales of… dragons?" Aerys inquired.

"Yes, your grace, certain," Edwell affirmed.

"Summon this… Lord Frostwood, tell him to arrive with his dragon. I wish to speak with him."

"Your grace, surely there is no need to entertain-"

"Pycelle, my word is final."

—

The North was no longer the same as it was just a year ago. The standard of living had boomed, and the landscape bore witness to unprecedented changes. Moat Cailin, once a crumbling ruin, now stood as a symbol of strength and prosperity. New cities had emerged, bustling with life and activity. Technologies previously unseen in the North were now commonplace, and the people reveled in a newfound era of advancement and innovation.

The cities were not just settlements; they were marvels of architecture, blending practicality with aesthetics. From Bear Island to White Harbor, each area bore the imprint of change, a tangible representation of progress. 

Trade routes, once limited, had expanded exponentially. The North was no longer isolated but a thriving hub of commerce. Caravans loaded with goods traversed the improved roads, connecting cities allowing for a level of interconnectability and economic prosperity never seen before in the Norths long history.

The transformation was attributed to one man – Atlas Frostwood. Whispers of his magical abilities echoed through the realm, and the North had become a testament to the incredible changes he wrought. And that man was currently inside his solar, alongside his good friend Rickard Stark, who brought with him troubling news.

—

"Signed Aerys II Targaryen, King of the Andals, the Rhoynar and the First Men Lord of the Seven Kingdoms, and Protector of the Realm," Rickard finished, and as he once again rolled up the piece of parchment, he was greeted by his friend Atlas' face, with a calculative look he often had.

"Such a long list of titles," Atlas said after a moment of contemplation.

"Indeed," Rickard agreed, studying the wax seal of a three-headed dragon on the parchment. "I met the King back when he was a prince during the war. He seemed like a good man, if only a little arrogant. Maybe you can humor him?"

Atlas thought for a bit, before asking, "Do you wish to join me, Rickard?"

"I'm afraid not, Lyanna was just born and my wife wishes me in Winterfell. I would dread to feel her anger if I were to leave her for a prolonged period after she just birthed our child."

Atlas chuckled and remarked, "Indeed, my friend. Hell hath no fury like a woman scorned."

Rickard nodded and laughed, there was wisdom in those words after all, "No truer words have ever been spoken. So what about it, Atlas? Do you plan on visiting Kings Landing? Know the North will protect you even if the answer is no."

Jesting, Atlas replied, "Bold of you to assume I need protecting," before his tone turned more serious as he stated, "Nonetheless, I will visit, on dragon back as he 'commanded'. Send an official reply, stating I will arrive in a fortnight."

—

Two weeks had passed, and Atlas was now inside the Dragonpit, getting ready for his visit with the King. He couldn't help but be excited for how the meeting would go. Many would be cautious or nervous, but there was really no reason for him to feel such a way.

"Ancalagon! Up for a ride?" Atlas inquired, and following his words, Ancalagon awoke from his slumber and flew down towards him from his perch in the center of the Dragonpit. Atlas could feel the affirmation through their bond, Ancalagon was intelligent, and he understood Atlas' words. 

Atlas smiled as he caressed Anacalagon's snout, who let out a loving puff of smoke in response, chuckling, Atlas looked over at Liam, ever the dutiful butler,

"Liam, I leave Avalon in your care."

"You honor me, my lord, I assure you the city will be in perfect condition upon your return,"

Chuckling, Atlas responded, "You will never call me Atlas will you?"

"Now that would be improper, my lord." He responded with a smile.

"Do me a favor Liam, summon the Ice Dragon Knights, and Gerold as well. I wish for them to join me in this journey south."

"At once, my lord."

—

"Gerold, my friend. How have you been?" Atlas inquired,

"As well as I could ask for my lord," Gerold replied with a warm smile,

Over time, Atlas had begun to see his summoned civilians and soldiers as more than that, he began to see them as human beings. He had formed genuine connections with them and could call many of them his friends. He found himself proud to call himself their ruler and call them his people.

"Gerold, what are your thoughts on the situation?" 

"I believe the king is out of line." The warm smile was gone quickly, and it was replaced with a look of disapproval and slight anger.

"How so?" Atlas inquired further, wishing to hear his friend's opinion.

"He presumed he could command you to visit him as if you were a dog, at his beck and call." The final words were almost ground out, and Gerold's anger was easy to see now, it was no wonder he was one of the Fire Dragon riders. 

"I don't believe it is that simple; after all, I have made residence in his kingdom," Atlas mused, his gaze steady. "Do not let your anger consume you, Gerold. I do not blame the King. He would appear weak if he were to visit me, just as weak as if he merely 'asked' for me to visit." He noticed that Gerold was still expressing his unhappiness, and decided to lighten the atmosphere a little bit, and with mock anger stated, "Do you truly believe I would submit to his every whim?"

"My lord, I would never presume-," Gerold began, but Atlas' laughter cut through the air. Even his fellow Dragon Knights joined in on the amusement. As the laughter subsided, Gerold's expression shifted from surprise to a more composed smile. "Very funny, my lord."

Mounting Ancalagon, Atlas grinned, "You should've seen the look on your face, Gerold. Let yourself loose a little bit." He offered advice, "Nonetheless, your insights are valued."

Gerold chuckled, mounting his dragon, the largest besides Ancalagon, "I will try, my lord."

The discussion concluded, leaving a momentary silence. Atlas glanced back at his six chosen companions, and a genuine smile spread across his face. They were no longer just servants; they had become true friends. "My friends, it seems it's truly time to make some waves."

(Frostwood is not final, neither is Avalon. I needed the names for this chapter but I have no qualms with editing them to something you guys find better. Feel free to comment ideas.)