The sun was shining through the dark clouds of the North for the first time in a fair while, its rays melting the spring snow that had fallen in the blizzards just days ago.
Winterfell was bustling as everyone was hard at work and the same could be said for its young lord, who sat behind his desk in his solar while his uncle stood right beside him with a smirk.
"Why did you make me lord again?" Cregan asked as he looked to Bennard, who just chuckled at the sour look on his nephew's face.
"Because Torrhen told me that you should get married, which you should. You haven't even picked a bride yet."
"That's because I haven't found one that fits me," Cregan replied and to his credit, he was not lying.
Most girls his age were too immature for him as they were more focused on their looks and their status. That and he was more attractive to the older age group that wasn't too old for him.
With that said, there weren't that many in that age group that he could ask for a betrothal, especially ones that were still maidens given that he was now the Warden of the North.
That just meant that his spouse had to be a maiden, but unfortunately, the maidens of the North were more focused on their wealth and status than the ones from the South.
Granted, he could take a bride from the South, but since his younger twin had already been married to a Targaryen for the past four years, the North would revolt if their liege lord did the same.
'Sometimes, I wish I was the second son,' Cregan thought to himself with a grumble, recalling how most people didn't care about Torrhen until his abilities were brought to light.
'Torrhen the Wise' was the nickname his brother had been given by the commonfolk of Westeros and it fitted him perfectly.
His brother, while not skilled with the martial aspects of nobility, was quite gifted when it came to the more mental challenges of their world.
Etiquettes, numbers and letters were child's play to him and when one factored in that he was one of just three people in Westeros that could use the forces of magic, he could see why most wanted him to marry into their families despite being a second son.
Of course, he wasn't sure if the rumours about Dalton Greyjoy or the youngest child of House Martell were the truth or not, but since not many have tried to disprove it, it was safer for him to assume that they were.
"Thinking of Torrhen again?" His uncle's voice cut through his thoughts and Cregan rolled his eyes when he heard his amusement.
"Yes, actually. I'm thinking of when he decides to come visit."
"Well, we did tell him that he should only visitwhen Moat Cailin is completed."
"And how is its status?'
"About done, I'd say. There are still a few kinks and problems that need to be tuned out and/ or fixed," Bennard replied, to which Cregan hummed before looking at the missive on his desk.
"And what do you make of this?" he asked, staring at the call to arms from the crown to every house in the country that could spare men for the war to come.
Bennard just sighed at the question before shaking his head and replied, "That depends on whether or not our foe is truly as powerful as it says he is."
"It's written in Torrhen's handwriting so I'd believe it," Cregan responded and Bennard smirked as he saw his nephew staring at the message with a frown.
Despite how people revered Torrhen as the more magically-inclined of the two, Cregan was most definitely the one that was perfect as the next Lord Stark.
Unlike Torrhen, Cregan knew when there was a time for words and when one needed to attack before you were attacked.
He could be as ruthless as a direwolf one moment and as playful as a pup the next, switching seamlessly between the two personas as if he were two in the same body.
Of course, they had suspected such a thing given Torrhen's mystical capabilities, but thankfully, his younger twin informed them that it was nothing more than Cregan splitting his mind into two lives so as to lighten the burden on his own 'psyche'.
'He could have just said mind, but Torrhen likes his weird words,' Bennard thought with a chuckle, waving his hand as Cregan turned to him with a raised eyebrow.
"Psyche," was all he responded with, but it was enough as Cregan snorted and rolled his eyes.
"Right, my brother's made-up words."
"All words are made up."
"Don't you start, uncle," Cregan spoke with a frown, grumbling as his uncle burst out laughing.
Still, he couldn't help his smirk as he shook his head, looking back at the message and folding it back up.
"Uncle, bring the atlas," he spoke and the man's laughter died down as he moved to the bookshelves, picking up the book in question.
Placing it down in front of Cregan, he sifted through the page until he reached the one he wanted, unfolding the large map that was folded up at the centre of the book.
"What do you think?" he asked, making his uncle raise an eyebrow.rfq
"About?"
"Torrhen believes that while Dalton will be focusing his attention on entering the Reach and the Riverlands through the Westerlands, he will also send troops to pepper the North from the western shore," Cregan began with a frown. "Given how barren the North is in those areas with simple fishing villages, do you think it would be the correct choice for me to send guards to fortify those locations with outposts?"
"I cannot answer that, Cregan. I have my own decisions that I would have made, but as lord to both Winterfell and the North, it lies upon you to make the correct decisions," Bennard replied and Cregan's frown deepened as he scanned the map.
His fingers slowly traced pathways from the various named cities and castles to the western shores, muttering incoherently under his breath before he nodded.
"I have a plan."
"I am all ears, my lord."
"Stop that," Cregan spoke with a scoff, making his uncle chuckle. "Blazewater Bay leads into the Saltspear, which goes close to Moat Cailin. Therefore, I will ask Torrhen to send men to fortify it."
"What else?" Bennard asked, an expectant smile on his face.
"Bear Island and the Stony Shore always suffer from attacks from the Iron Islanders. Therefore, we will need to fortify those two points.
Even if they attempt to cut us off from the Stony Shore, there is nothing but stone and coarse dirt between it and the Wolfswood, meaning they won't have anything to hunt or eat."
"That is true, but Torrhen also informed us that these men are immortal and cannot die from their wounds. Would it not be safe to say then that we cannot starve them out as they might have no need for food?"
"If that is the case, then it would be easier to capture them alive and make sure that they can't escape to become nuisances for the rest of our army."
"That would be tough considering that they could just tear off the part that is held captive and continue fighting."
"That is true, yes, but what if Torrhen manages to figure out a way to keep them dead permanently?"
"So, you wish to wager the safety and future of the North upon a chance?"
"No, I wish to do so on my brother's success," Cregan replied, to which Bennard hummed as he worked the plan over in his head.
"Well, since I do not have much experience in warfare against immortal reavers and pillagers and since Torrhen is the leading expert on them, I'd say that you have proposed a sound plan."
"But?" Cregak added, already knowing that his uncle has a plan of his own. Bennard noticed the tone as well as he chuckled and shook his head.
"I am not going to push your plan away to propose my own, nephew. It is a good plan, but I'd add one more thing to it."
"Which is?"
"Make outposts and smaller villages in the wolfswood centre," he replied, drawing a confused frown from Torrhen. "The housing can be simple, but make sure to make enough that can fit dozens of families.
This way, if refugees from the various villages, you can place them there instead of trying to force them into Winter town. Along with that, I'd make secret fortified walls around the wolfswood in the off-chance that some of the Ironborn do attempt a more stealthy approach to attacking Winterfell itself."
"...The Tumbletown Tower," Cregan murmured, drawing a raised eyebrow from his uncle. "It's old, yes, but the area around it has many hills, which is good for watchtowers. It is also very muddy which means that ditches and traps can be made to impede the enemy's advance."
"It is also close to a few crofters' villages near Winterfell, which means a quick retreat should they fall. Now, this is a good plan."
'Is it enough, though?' Cregan thought with a frown, scanning the map in front of him. However, he shook his head with a sigh, deciding that worrying about possible futures could lead to mistakes made in haste.
He cannot save everyone, but he can save as many as he can.
"Uncle, bring me parchment, quills and as much ink as Winterfell can spare. It is time that I began preparing everyone for the battles to come."
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"Still mad at you?" Anne asked from where she was perched on the chair and I let out a sigh. My eyes flicked to Helaena, who sat on her chair next to the fireplace and her back to me.
At the door stood Arryk and Erryk, both of them glancing at me as I looked at them and nodded.
Raising a finger, they nodded and left the room, but Helaena stayed unmoving as I walked over to her. Instead of sitting in my own chair, though, I knelt next to hers and she didn't pull her hand away as I placed my own on top of it.
Good, that meant that she wasn't that angry.
"Helaena, my love."
"What?" she asked softly and to most, it would sound like nothing more than the curious tone of a princess. However, to those that truly knew her, I could hear the inflections in her tone, the way it trembled at the very first letter and how she almost let out a sigh at the end.
"Helaena, look at me, please?" I asked and she complied, though I winced as I saw the subtle glare on her face. "Look, I'm not the best when it comes to this, but I want you to know that me volunteering to go and face Dalton was not because I wanted to get away from you."
"That is not what I am upset about, Torrhen," she replied, a frown now on her face as she stared at me. "What I am upset about is the fact that you thought to sacrifice yourself for this."
"It was not a sacrifice, my love."
"Can you say that you and Vermithor on your own can face Dalton and his army?" she asked and I paused, our eyes fixed on each other.
To be truthful, I know that I offered my services to divert Alicent's attention away from Rhaenyra towards me, but I should have informed Helaena of it before I made it.
On top of that, there was a small part of my mind that believed it. It believed that I, on my own with Vermithor, would be enough for Dalton and his army. That thought grew more if one went on the assumption that we fought on land near the forests and not at the ocean.
"See? Even now, you're making strategies on how you would fight him," her voice drew me from my thoughts and I felt my heart ache at the hurt in her eyes. "Why did you decide that Silverwing and I would of help to you?"
"You are precious to me, Helaena, and no, I'm not just saying that because you're pregnant," I spoke before she could, a sigh escaping my lips. "Do you know who is the most important person in my life?"
"Me?" she asked with a knowing tone, to which I smiled and nodded.
"Yes, your presence has been the anchor in my life since I came to the South. It is because of you that I found out what I truly can do and it was with your help that I took care of any threats to our families."
"Are you saying that to appease me?" she asked and I chuckled, shaking my head as I stood up.
"Not in the slightest, Helaena. If anything were to happen to you, I do not believe that Westeros would be the same afterwards," I was telling the truth, to be fair.
Helaena was one of the anchors in my new life, the others of course being my memories of my old life, my drive for power and my new family.
Were anything to happen to them, well, I wouldn't go on a whole emo spiel of revenge and carnage, but I think a part of my humanity would go with her.
"Westeros or you?" she asked, standing up and grasping me by the face. I just stared into her eyes before my smile softened as I placed my hands on her waist.
"Whichever one results in you not being angry with me."
"...I'm still upset with you, but I accept your apology," she whispered and kissed my lips softly, pulling back as I gave a relieved smile.
"Good, because my next option was us two stuck in this room for the next day."
"I would not mind that," she whispered as her hands came down and under my tunic, my eyes flicking to the door to see Erryk peeking back in.
"Have we resolved everything, Lord Torrhen?"
"Ser Arryk, Ser Erryk, I must ask of you to stay outside and on guard for the rest of the day. If anyone asks for either myself or Lord Torrhen, tell them that we're indisposed for the day and to come find us tomorrow," Helaena spoke up and as she pulled off my tunic, I just looked at Erryk who gave me a smirk and a wink.
"As you command, princess."
"Is this all that's needed for an apology?" I asked, my hands moving on their own as I expertly undid the knots to her dress.
"Would you rather use your words or your tongue?" she asked as she sat down in her chair, pulling up her dress while doing a perfect split.
I just stared at the pink snatch in front of me before my response came in the form of me kneeling in front of her and letting my tongue do the work.
Man, is it great to be me.
A/N: A bit of a slice of life chapter and I know the war kicks off this chapter, but we're saving that one for next week as next week's going to be a full-on battle chapter. That means I need to go study ancient warfare.
Hah, the things I do for a story.
As always, read, enjoy, review and until the next one...
Ba-Bye~!!