Cregan stark (4) Arthur Valhalla (14) the changes in the black wolf and the black dragons memories.

AN: here we will see what Cregan went through during his time in the weirwood. And the changes he implements to give the north the best chance to win the only war that truly matters.

Meanwhile, Arthur informs lord Corlys that he will be going to driftmark to see this Davon for himself. We also get a little bit of Rhaenas reaction to his scars.

Enjoy!

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Winterfell, The north, 130 AC

(CREGAN POV)

As dusk as I walk through winterfell, I can see the changes thatve been implemented since my vision of what is coming.

Arthur spoke truth. Every bit of it. I saw everything. His past. The future of the world. I saw it all. Those cold, dead, glowing blue set in a body of ice. eyes that didn't feel hunger. Didn't tire. Constantly in motion toward their goal.

And what a terrible goal it is. To kill everything. Everyone. My own ancestor lead the fight against them 8,000+ years ago. And although I'm confident in my ability as lord of winterfell and warden of the north, to think I'll have to face that army terrified me.

Too many bodies to count. Wildings, men of the nights watch, shadow cats, snow bears. All of them with the same dead blue eyes.

The changes I made to winterfell were immediate. Calling upon every builder I knew to reinforce the gates and walls.

Sending missives to the reeds constantly trying to keep in contact with arthur and the developments of Sparta. From Lord jagens own hand, Denlen is on soarta right now. With the sea snake of all people.

Such meetings mean I've been burning letters everytime I've read it. Subterfuge weighs on my stark soul. But such things must be done if we're to be truly prepared.

Another one of the changes is what I want from the Targaryens after this civil war. I and the north need dragon glass. A lot of it.

From what little Arthur divulged about making Valyrian steel, dragon glass was required. As it was to kill white walkers.

However, he told me of a lesser known variant of Valyrian steel. One any man not even of Valyrian decent can make.

He swore to give me the method of such things when next we meet. I sigh as I make my way to the rookery to see if I've any missives from lord jagen or any other lord.

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Sitting down hard into my seat in the solar im stunned once again. Giants. Lord Arthur has giants in Sparta!

A Legendary race of beings different from men that were some of the most important figures in the battle for the first dawn.

Not only that. But lord Reed claims to have met earthsingers! Not since the pack of men and children were such beings seen. Hells, every godly man of the north believed them extinct. The more I hear about Sparta the more I wish to visit it.

'Mayhaps I can. After all I'll need to go to white harbor anyway. I'm sure the manderlys would enjoy seeing lord Arthur's own hate for the reach. Ha! Already another friendship in the making.'

With those thoughts I write to lord Reed. Wishing this missive and the one he will send to his son reach the island before i must go to war.

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Sparta, Windsor castle, 130 AC

(ARTHUR POV)

As I wake up and dress in a vaguely similar garb to the one worn by Alexios in ac odyssey, my mind strayed to my time in Valyria. Although I do not remember clearly my time there. Only when I get near Somehting familiar to me do the memories return.

Lastnight I had a strange dream. One that now I'm awake and can think clearly makes me wonder what will happen when I reach Dragonstone on my way back from driftmark.

The dream was me standing in front of a dragon i remeber. Sauron. My fathers dragon. And one of the only beings In Valyria who showed me they loved me from the first time we met.

In truth, I remember feading Sauron by hand. A crazy thing to think about now. A young child playing and letting a beast the size of morgoth is now so close to him.

But the dragon always loved me. And hated my grandfather. This is what made us so close. He always tired to eat my grandfather when he yelled at me.

I had thought we could be mount and rider. But my egg that turned into morgoth was destined to be.

However, I still felt connected to this dragon. Odd. Considering he should be long dead. But so should I.

Breaking myself out of those thoughts I make my way to the hall to break my fast.

(Image)

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Arriving in the hall my presence is called out by the now armoured Spartans who guard my keep.

All stand at my entrance. Even my Velaryon guests. If I'm honest, the whole courtly niceties thing weigh on me. I just wish a simple nod of the head was enough to show deference. But after almost a year of trying to convince these people otherwise I've given up.

I do appreciate the sentiment. But that's all it is. Sentiment. That's why when I have my version of the kings guard only their eyes will be visible. For I need not but to look a man in the eye and know what he's feeling. Who he really is. All of it.

This becomes especially true if I Channel magic into my eyes. A neat trick we Valhalla can do.

I've slowly but surely been finding my magical abilities awaken. It's usually in a time I need them. Like forging Valyrian steel. Or warging.

I stop my internal monologue as Rhaena speaks to me with that beautiful smile I've come to associate with her but there's a hesitation, an apology she won't speak, swimming in Those beautiful purple orbs. (good morning Arthur. How did you sleep?)

I return my smile. Though she can't see it. For my hood is up. Then speak (I slept. Thought not as well as I'd like to. And you? Did you find everything and everyone in Windsor to be welcoming?)

Again there's that hesitation in her eyes before she speaks. Now I can see how tired she looks. (I'm afraid I was rather busy last night. Sometimes my mind works so fast, that when it happens sleep is a commodity I rarely receive.)

I frown. What could've been keeping her up? Before I can voice such query, lord Corlys speaks on what happened to him last night.

(Lord Valhalla,) again i groan at the constant use of courtly ceremony. But I continue listening to the man anyway.

(Truth be told I'm rather flummoxed I know not what you did lastnight. Whether that be helping me or seeing davon. It was like the glass candles.) he speaks with excitement. I guess I can understand why, Afterall Valyrian magic has taken a nose dive since the doom.

I decide to tell him about his family. The davon thing was on instinct. But even if I knew in depth I wouldn't divulge such things. A Valhalla must keep some secrets after all.

(Your family was, is, will always be one with the sea. In my time, the velaryons were the best captains and navigators of their time. Because they had gift. Like the Targaryens own dragon dreams, the seahorses had an innate sense of direction.

This allowed them to move freely even before the compass. They were the first non-dragon riders to make it through astorm and into land over what is now known as the smoking sea.

The velaryons also had a knack for writing runes related to travel by sea. these runes funneled all wind to the sails. None were wasted. This allowed them to move at incredible speeds on the water. able to keep up with dragons in the sky.)

At the end of my retelling corlys has a gobsmacked expresion on his face and his deep purple eyes are alight with excitement.

I like the man. Although not a dragon he is a true Valyrian. Something all too rare nowadays.

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(RHAENA POV)

Watching Arthur feild my grandfathers over excited questions, it leaves me with the thoughts of what i saw lastnight.

After tossing and turning, wondering why arthur left in the middle of the night, i wonder around the castle.

I turn a corner and see im Coming up on arthurs room with two armored men outside. He speaks to them in the language i don't understand.

But soon the two are moving away. Arthur goes inside but doesn't pull the door all the way, leaving it slightly ajar.

My curiosity cannot be contained.

Arriving at the intricate door culminating in the black dragon of his house surrounded by that beautiful arrowhead, i peek my head inside. What I find in there turns my face a crimson red before it turns to horror.

Arthur stands in front of the looking glass with the strange garb removed. i can see terrible scars litter his chest and back. torture scars.

I may be a princess. But ive read just as many accounts of lords questioning traitors as i have stories of the brave knight who rescused the young maiden.

But my dragonknights body is full of horrible scars. ones his grandfather gave to him. Then i let out a gasp as the beatiful red orbs of his direwolf are staring at me.

i slowly make my way back to my chamber knowing sleep will elude me tonight as i think about the things Arthur has gone through.

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AN: hope you enjoy. gonna be the last ome fo a second. im off today and so extremely tired i dont know how ive put this togther at all.

please bear with me for a few hours while get a little R&R