Bear Island
297 AC
Ned Stark, Lord of Winterfell and Warden of the North
After we returned to Bear Island, we gave guest rights to Lord Alber Solaris and then invited him to take a guest room in the castle.
After he was gone, I immediately called a council meeting between all the lords available and the maester of Bear Island, Maester Alaric, a northerner who studied at the Citadel for some time.
During the meeting, many lords proposed the possibility of war. Mostly the younger lordlings who didn't have the opportunity to fight during The Rebellion and wanted to earn their spurs.
Dumb young men who have no true understanding of the horrors of war.
"This is an unprecedented opportunity for us, my lords. These are men from distant seas. Think of their knowledge; they might have seen lands similar to the North. Trading with them may yield plants that even we can grow. Look at their ships, damn!" said Lord Lyman Manderly, who at some point during his speech had stood up to further emphasize his point.
"Even with the obvious magic? I thought you were worshippers of the Seven," said Lord Glover with a slight sarcastic overtone.
"Fuck the Seven. They gave us no help when we became pariahs to the rest of Westeros because of that blasted war. We have no allies. The Riverlands pay us lip service and reduce the prices of food a bit, but there is hardly a difference between their prices and those of the Reach. The Vale has cut us off completely after the death of Lord Jon three years back," Lyman said as he began to pace around the room at a speed surprising for his size.
"That boy, Denys. The same one you saved during the Battle of the Bells from Connington's mace. He went back on his word and barred all houses of the Vale from doing business with the North for some slight only he knows of."
"The other regions won't piss on us even if we were on fire. You publicly cutting Lyanna and her line from Winterfell won us no favors with the royal family. Lord Baratheon is still enraged that he fought a war for a woman who publicly ridiculed him and made sure we completely lost all justification we had for fighting the war, which made us negotiate a peace."
"Make no mistake, this cold war between us and the rest of Westeros will not hold forever. Someday, they will come for us. Saying some shite like they are bringing the light of the Seven to us 'savages.'"
"We are outnumbered and cornered. We will be exterminated if the full force of Westeros is brought to our shores. I have heard news of some septon clamoring for the return of some 'Poor Fellows.' We need options, my lord, and the gods have sent them to our doorsteps," he said as he finished talking and sat back down.
We all sat in silence, ruminating on what he said, and an old ache sent a shiver through me. I can still remember her even years later. With her laughing purple eyes that had gone cold when we last met. Her hands wrapped my son, swaddled in cloth. Angry at me for not breaking my marriage vows and returning to her after all she had borne me a son.
She doesn't know how hard that decision was to make. To look her in the eyes and tell her no. That my word was all I had left, that our son had to be a bastard and not the heir to Winterfell. She cried and raged, her nails almost taking my eye in her grief. She made me promise to never contact her or her son again.
A promise I reluctantly made. I had heard of him a little. Aemon Sand, bastard of Starfall and squire to his uncle, Arthur Dayne, who has been rumored to be one of the paramours of that Dornish princess. The very thought that my blood was being reduced to being little more than a whore's, though wrapped in armor, sends fire through my skin.
Any love I had for Ashara died when I heard of it. For her to let our son get entangled with those vipers… maybe it was best I let her go. Catelyn has been everything I need in a wife and more. She understood why there could be no sept in Winterfell, but I allowed her her septa as a compromise.
She has given me an heir, two spares, and two daughters. She has done her duty and more.
(Note: All of them including Robb Stark, have the classic Stark looks except Sansa, who inherited her mom's red hair, but even she has those Stark grey eyes. Aemon Sand is not Jon Snow but an OC. Jon Snow is a Targaryen prince named Maekar.)
One day, I will meet my son again, and I would offer him a place in Winterfell, a place beside his brothers, and maybe one day, if he proves loyal and true, a keep of his own and even the Stark name, like my cousin, Barthogan Stark, and his daughter and young son, Myssa and Rickard, who was given a keep by my father in Barrowtown.
Not as a cadet branch, but a line of Starks with claim to Winterfell in case anything horrific befalls the main line. Barthogan himself is leal and true; he fought with me through the Riverlands and in our routing of the Stony Shore.
"I have made my decision. We will seek an alliance with Dressrosa and see where we go from there," I said after making the final decision on this topic, much to Lord Manderly's pleasure.
"Now please rest for the night. We will reconvene tomorrow with Lord Alber."
The Great Hall,
The next morning.
Lord Alber sat at the other end of the table as my vassals all sat at the side with the intent of watching the negotiation. Lord Alber had a blank face as he and I seemed to be in a staring contest of sorts where neither wanted to look away first.
This was only stopped when Maege's youngest daughter, Lyanna, whom she brought along to the meeting alongside her other children who stood at her side, finally asked a question with all the subtlety of a northern child.
"Lord Alber, is it true you have wings?"
A small smile graced his face as he turned away from me and looked towards her and spread his wings, which are as dark as a raven's, wide and answered her.
"Yes, young one. I am a Lunarian, a race of men who could fly, were very strong, and could control fire as naturally as it is to breathe."
She only got more interested as she started asking more questions, like their history and why we hadn't heard of them before.
Surprisingly and thankfully, he answered, and it also gave all of us context of just who we were talking to.
The Lunarians were one of the races of men who actually lived on the moon thousands of years ago. They controlled the other part of the world called the Grand Line as kings but were ousted and killed by an alliance of twenty kings who were the ancestors of the rulers of the other continents, who are called The Celestial Dragons.
He spoke of the depravity of them, and bile rose to my throat momentarily as I could not imagine how it would be to live under the yoke of such cursed beings. People who will enslave you and your family on a whim, and nothing could be done to them.
It really shows that for all of Aerys's madness, he had not yet descended to even their heights of madness. She then asked of his history, and he confessed he was a pirate.
Not just any pirate, but the right-hand man of a pirate who dominated and controlled territory the size of Westeros and parts of Essos combined.
A pirate so notorious they called him an emperor. Which goes to show the level of power and influence he and, by extension, Alber had.
Alber then promised to tell her stories of his time as a pirate later before concentrating on what brought us here in the first place.
"Look, I am important but not important enough to handle creating alliances that will decide the future of Dressrosa. With your permission, I will cast a spell that creates a door so my king may come and treat with you."
Fear shot through me. If that is true, then it is even more important to be on good terms with them. With just that kind of magic, they can deploy and retreat whole armies very quickly, and it seems I am not alone in this assessment, as many of my lords shifted uncomfortably at that revelation.
"Go ahead."
"Many thanks, Lord Eddard."
He raised his hands, and a pitch-black door appeared in the room, and after a few seconds, a man walked through.
Even I could tell this was no ordinary man. The pressure emanating from him was even more than Alber's. With hair even more gold than that of a Lannister, with glowing red eyes and a very tall physique.
Towering over even Great Jon, but not quite up to Lord Alber. Dressed in a weird type of clothing that oddly looks well. (It's a suit. Westeros doesn't have suits, nor does Essos.)
Alber then stood up from the chair and stood by its side as the king sat down on it and looked at us. It was like the world held its breath while he was in its presence.
"My name is King Soleil Strider, King of Dressrosa, also known as the Sorcerer Supreme. I was told by Alber that I would be meeting with possible allies."