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123 AC, King's Landing
Cregan Stark sat in the Red Keep's Great Hall. He had been all but forced to attend another fucking feast, which was quickly becoming almost a daily occurrence. Truly, he gritted his teeth at how the Crown seemed to spend their taxes so frivolously, as there had likely been enough food thrown away to feed half a kingdom in the last moon alone. At least, Rhaenys Velaryon, the Hand of the King, had deigned to send uneaten food to the Smallfolk of King's Landing, who were likely eating better than most lords of the realm in their own keeps.
Alas, he had no choice. Many Houses came from the North for the Great Council, including some of his strongest bannermen. Rodrick Bolton sat next to him, as pale and as cold as his ancestors. The man's company alone unnerved him, and Cregan knew better than to trust anyone from that wretched house. Then again, this was their purpose, wasn't it? House Bolton would stop any other house's treason or join them, which was why the Starks had watched the former Red Kings very carefully for thousands of years.
On his left was Desmond Manderly. The rather large man was intelligent, but it was obvious that he did not care much for the Great Council, only for agreements that would enrich his house. Thankfully, his sons certainly provided better company, though they acted more like southern knights than warriors of the North. Of course, there were others, including the Ryswells, the Dustins, the Hornwoods, and so on…
Most of them wished to feast after such a long journey, and Cregan would not begrudge them that. However, that did not lessen his irritation with most Lords of the South, since he wished nothing more than to hit them in the face. The Lord of Winterfell was almost swarmed at every opportunity, in a way that he knew they never would have, had they not seen him battle during the attack on the Capital. His prowess and his ancestral weapon had been something of a curiosity for most of the lords there, and he wished to spend as little time with the arrogant pricks as possible.
Unfortunately, he couldn't tell them to fuck off, as he depended on many of them to feed his people, but he had gotten close a few times when Jason Lannister boasted for the hundredth time about his presumed skill in arms, and of finding Brightroar, his family's Valyrian Steel sword, which had been lost in Old Valyria. If this was the original blade, then Cregan was sure that Harry had been involved in some way. Of course, it did not matter that the man likely hadn't swung a sword for at least a decade. Seven Hells, most of the lords he met looked like they could have easily been killed by one of the Wildlings North of the Wall.
The Riverlanders were no better. They were more divided than grains of sand, each one being more of a prick than the previous ones. At least, things were less hostile than in the Reach, where Ormund Hightower and Lorent Tyrell were obviously at odds and trying to gain more control over the Kingdom. Both had offered Cregan a marriage, which he denied. He had no wish to involve himself in Southern politics, let alone in the Reach.
He had had enough of these useless knights and the falsehoods that they uttered with every breath they took. He was tired of fending off one marriage proposal after another. The only way he dealt with it all was by trying to unnerve them with his silence or with replies that would take them off guard. It worked for most lords and ladies, but nearly as much as he liked.
He had his moments when his irritation almost won over his patience, of course, like the ones who tried to buy Direwolf pups from him, despite his saying that he did not have any. Of course, that was often followed by attempts at buying Ghost, which was when he restrained himself from running through many lords with Ice.
After most of his lords had had too much wine, Cregan stood up and slowly walked out of the Great Hall, hoping that none would notice his absence. He quickly made his way to the Godswood. At least, he attempted to before a familiar voice stopped him, "I must have forgotten what you looked like when you were not frowning, Cregan."
Sara was there with her bird and Ghost, giving him a smirk, "I do hope that my irritation amuses you, sister. Do you not have anything better to do than spy on me with your bird?"
His sister pouted, "How else am I to protect you, Cregan?"
The young lord rolled his eyes but certainly felt calmer than he had during the feast, or at least not as keen on hitting someone.
Sara's expression then turned serious, "I did as you asked and observed your lords, Cregan."
He straightened up and waited for an answer, "And…"
"And they seem quite happy with you, even if Bolton thinks that you could have asked for more of a reward for your deeds during the attack. The Gift's return is a nice one, and many are vying for your aid to regain some lands that the Queen took from them, or even just wishing for more fertile lands under their dominion. I think a few are putting their second sons in a position to rebuild keeps in the Gift if necessary, and if what you say is true and that the seasons will be shorter, that land will be worth far more than it ever had before. Your biggest problems are actually the Reach and River Lords. They are planning on forcing the issue of your marriage by threatening to increase the prices of the grain that we import. Though I'd only say that the former is a real threat; you could easily deal with the Riverlands by putting them against one another and using your marriage as leverage."
He looked up and muttered, "Sometimes, I wonder if it was worth it coming here and dealing with all of this shit. I really plan on giving Harry a well-placed blow to the face for the troubles that he caused me."
Sara snickered at his reaction, "You did say that he claimed that your presence here would be beneficial for you and the North. You now have the King's favour, hailed as a hero of the realm, and regained lands lost from the times of the Conciliator. Can you say that he lied to you?"
Cregan grumbled and shook his head. It was true that his presence here during the attack elevated the North's reputation in a way that it never had since Aegon's Conquest, but that did not change the fact that dealing with the Southern Lords was more troublesome than fighting monsters beyond the Wall.
That said, Cregan decided to change the subject, "What of the Great Council?"
Sara snorted, "There is some malcontent about Princess Rhaenyra being set aside, as well as predictions of the Rogue Prince's reaction to it all. A few ambitious Lords are planning to convince him to fight the Great Council's decision, hoping to profit from the chaos. Of course, others are whispering about killing off Princess Rhaenyra's entire branch to avoid this scenario altogether. They are planning to appeal to Prince Aegon or Prince Aemond, or would just go through with it and hope for a reward."
The Lord of the North rolled his eyes, "Aside from the possibility of war and burning because of an enraged Rogue Prince. These Southerners are truly strange creatures indeed."
Cregan could see the appeal of war, of gaining honour on the battlefield, but trying to urge war between dragons even when, at last, peace was obtainable, was very strange indeed. After all, there was a reason why Torrhen Stark knelt, even if there was a chance at killing the Conqueror and his wives through Brandon Snow. After all, the possibility of failure provided a much greater risk to his kingdom.
A single surviving Dragonrider who sought revenge would have burned every castle in the North to ashes, and that was not something that the last King of Winter accepted. In his youth, he had condemned such cowardly actions, but it was only when he became a Lord that he understood their wisdom.
King Viserys had done a great boon to the realm with this Council, for it was the best decision to diffuse tensions, and yet, according to Sara, many seemed more than happy to plunge the realm into chaos.
Given a war between Dragons, the North would likely be unharmed so long as they did not involve themselves, and so he was not especially worried. However, the rest of the realm, especially the Reach and the Riverlands, would likely suffer the most, but they were prepared to do it just for the sake of profiting from it.
Sara broke him from his musing by giggling at his response, "Perhaps, but the North is under the protection of our White Wolf, is it not? No dragon shall prevail should it set its sight on our kingdom."
Cregan rolled his eyes, "I have no wish to fight dragons, sister. That said, what can you tell me about our… most immediate worries?"
Sara's eyes turned white for a few moments as she Skinchanged, before they returned to normal. "No one spoke of magic aside from your own and that of the Shadowbinders. Even the Grand Maester's correspondence didn't have any mentions of it, aside from the thefts from the Citadel's part. If magic is returning here as it has in the North, then they have not realised it yet. Are you sure that this is not only in the North?"
The Lord of Winterfell nodded, remembering Rhaena's feat in the Godswood, "I am."
"Then, we will need to hasten our own preparations. I have tasked the Skinchangers that I have trained to roam the lands and try to find others, with some rewards as well. What of the Citadel's tomes?"
Cregan hummed. He was not particularly excited by the books that arrived at Winterfell without any prompting, not like King Viserys obviously had, given the fact that he had paused the repairs of the Red Keep in favour of overhauling the Red Keep's library to fit them all, something that the Grand Maester obviously disliked.
However, he knew of the importance of knowledge and the resources that would come from having a library of this size in his own home. "Tell them to restore one of the abandoned towers and use it as a temporary library of sorts. Perhaps in a few years, we will build something dedicated to it in Winterfell."
His sister made a noise of agreement before she grabbed his hand and pulled him towards the familiar form of the Godswood, Ghost trailing behind him. He raised an eyebrow, and she smiled without any signs of embarrassment, "We cannot have the Lord of the North, the White Wolf, to be as poor a Skinchanger as you are now. Don't worry, no one will interrupt us."
Cregan scoffed but did not argue with her. Unfortunately, much of what she said was true, and he followed her to sit beneath the shade of a tree with Ghost being next to him, and ice laid out on his knees.
Minutes later, following his sister's instructions, he found himself slipping into a bond between himself and Ghost. It was not as easy an experience as Sara described. It was hard to explain; the one he shared with his Direwolf seemed stranger, more robust than what she described with her bird or hound. Perhaps it was because he had not known Ghost when he was a pup, like Sara had her hound, but then again, his sister could almost Skinchange into most creatures as long as they did not have any magic or were not claimed by another Skinchanger.
Still, it was becoming easier every time, as if they were getting to know one another. Just as Cregan had gotten used to the Direwolf's sharpened senses, he felt his companion's trust soar, and suddenly, he felt something strange happen.
Cregan felt himself growing larger and stronger, and he looked around and saw his human body glow faintly, though it was concentrated on his wolf medallion and his sword. Huh, that was quite familiar as he had done something similar during his battle with the Shadowbinders, though it was mainly out of instinct.
Cregan took a sniff and found that there was a foreign scent near the Red Keep. He felt himself stiffen up, and Ghost's intelligent, yet animalistic mind, pushed him towards looking at it. He, of course, stopped when he noticed the familiar figures of the princesses Helaena and Rhaena, in one of the balconies overlooking the forest.
The younger girl had a look of concentration on her face, and most importantly, a small flame hovering above her hand, which moved slightly erratically. It seemed that the girl was doing her best to avoid accidentally setting everything around her on fire, as she had the last time he saw her.
The girl's magic was a grave reminder that magic's return changed things. He knew this, of course, as Harry had said so after the Night King fell, but there was a grave difference in seeing it with his eyes. He was familiar with Rhaena, and her misstep aside in his family's crypts, she was a nice enough girl, if a little self-centred and impulsive. Then again, that was rather common with girls her age. However, he imagined how the world would be with the royal family having access to this kind of magic, especially someone like Prince Daemon or Prince Aemond, and he found himself disliking things even more so.
Ice granted Cregan great power, and he was confident in his skills as a warrior, and the royal family was grateful to him for helping save their dragons. But could he say that the next generation of Targaryens would not see House Stark as a threat? Could he say that his descendants would be able to defeat them?
The answer was a resounding no.
The world would likely be much more different, and while for the first time, compared to the rest of the Kingdoms of the South, the North held an advantage by knowing this fact, that advantage would mean nothing if Cregan squandered it.
Skinchangers aside, there had to be other forms of magic that would appear, and if the North were to survive, he would need to find them and quickly at that.
While lost in his thoughts and in Ghost's body, Cregan saw Princess Helaena suddenly turn her head, and her purple eyes met his own. He did not know how he knew this, but every instinct told him that Helaena Targaryen perfectly knew where he was, and with a jolt, his mind left Ghost's body and returned to his own, who released a gasp.
Never in a thousand years would he have expected that the small slip of a girl that he saw running from her mad sister to be this terrifying. Sure, his medallion did hum for very brief periods, in her presence sometimes, showing that she was using magic in some way, but there was something different in seeing the strings move to her will on the scale of an entire continent, to see an entire realm dance to her tune without them even knowing it. It was even more dangerous when he felt her attention through Ghost, an invisible pressure that intimidated even a Direwolf.
Cregan finally opened his eyes and felt Ghost making his way towards them. He met Sara's concerned gaze with a forced smile. Yes, the world was quite different now. Oh, how he hoped to be done with the Great Council and just return to Winterfell.
He hadn't properly explored some of the things left behind in the crypts. There must be records of other magicks of the First Men that he could look into. Speaking of, with the Others being dealt with, he should probably do something about that before some descendant accidentally destroys Winterfell.
With that reminder, Cregan felt the urge to hit Harry in the face rise within him once more. Alas, he could not. And so, he only breathed out a slow curse and resigned himself to more exhausting days in the Capital before he would finally return home, wondering, not for the first time, why every path Harry Potter opened seemed to lead him straight into trouble.
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The Impact of the Advancements in the Higher Mysteries in the North
By Archmaester Wolkan of Winterfell
The North is now, by far, a great haven for magic users in the Continent of Westeros; however, it has not been so all the time. While we now could seldom believe in a world without magic, it had not always been the case, and many seemingly independent factors made it happen.
I do not wish to argue the theories regarding the return of magic, for many Magi with far more knowledge than I on the Higher Mysteries have postulated it for decades, without any true proof of the matter. Instead, let us focus on the state of the North during that time period, specifically, during Cregan Stark's tenure as Lord of Winterfell.
No matter which arguments one might have taken, the White Wolf, or Blessed Wolf, was instrumental in turning the North into what it is today, starting with his edicts of accepting any magic users in the North and providing them with steady employment for themselves and their families. Though perceived rather poorly by the Lords of the Realm, where most believed that Lord Cregan was taken advantage of, for aside from his own display of might during the events of the 'Darkest Day', and that of the Shadowbinders of Asshai, magic was often considered to be quite rare.
Most thought it to be a waste of the boon of the crown, which, for his feats, included a lack of taxes for the North for a period of ten years, though a few believed that it was a clever way to increase the population of his kingdom, which had many unused lands, given its hostile weather. With the reputation of the North and that of the White Wolf after the infamous attack on King's Landing, many thought to try their chances in the North, most of whom did not have a drop of magic, but there still remained a few that remained.
Despite the fall of the authority of the Faith in the few years that followed 123 AC, it still remained prevalent, and many who had magic feared being persecuted. In a way, Cregan Stark had cleverly invited all who hid their magicks in fear of prosecution and granted them a safe haven. This would prove to be quite a successful endeavour, for the sudden stabilisation of seasons resulted in many lands in the North being quite fertile, something that the North was primed to take advantage of, in comparison to many other Kingdoms who had been surprised by the sudden shift. This sudden availability of lands allowed many newcomers to become farmers, while the few with magic were taught how to hone their powers.
The North under Cregan Stark was quite strategic in their use of magicks, starting with the formation of the Rangers, which was under the command of the White Wolf's baseborn sister, Sara Snow. The group was known to patrol in the dense forests of the North searching for bandits, something that was only possible given the size of the Kingdom, with the presence of Skinchangers in each patrol to act as scouts.
Today, the order of the Rangers has more Skinchangers than any other military organisation on the continent, something that they are firmly proud of, with many branches in great settlements across the North, though the organisation is often headed by second sons of House Stark, should they have the honour to be granted a Direwolf pup when they reach their seventh nameday.
The Order of Healers was also one that was founded from this single decision, though it formally formed in 154 AC, though it existed informally before it, as many Woods witches gathered to offer their healing in large settlements in exchange for coin. It was not long until a few went to study amongst them after finishing their chains of healing and Higher Mysteries in the Citadel of Winterfell. After some time, many petitioned the creation of an order dedicated only to healing, which spearheaded the presence of hospices across the North.
With a single decree, the White Wolf invited a diversity of magicks to the North while most other kingdoms remained blind to the spread of magic for years. It was only in 129 AC that Kermit Tully asked the King to intervene, claiming that the Starks were poaching the realm's Smallfolk. The petition was received with mixed temper, for while the Riverlands had indeed seen a modest decline in itinerant craftsmen and hedge-priests, no law had been broken, nor oath forsaken. The Crown, still mindful of the North's service during the tumults of 123 AC, chose caution over confrontation, and the matter was quietly dismissed as the envy of lesser harvests.
The undeniable truth was that the Realm could hardly argue the changes in population, for the rest of the Kingdoms failed to meet the same legitimacy that the North granted its magic users for decades. The formalisation of study within the Citadel of Winterfell, modest though it was in its early years, lent structure to talents that elsewhere remained wild or suppressed. Ice Magic, Skinchanging, Alchemy, Healing, and lesser arts became recognised crafts, and often brought to their family should anyone show any talent in them, for even Smallfolk could be sponsored by their lords to attend the Citadel to hone them.
Still, it cannot be denied that the North's transformation reshaped the balance of the Seven Kingdoms. One may argue over whether this was foresight or fortune. Perhaps Lord Cregan merely seized the opportunity when others hesitated. Alas, that matters very little, for the North is now the greatest centre of study of the Higher Mysteries in the Seven Kingdoms, and perhaps even the Known World.
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AN: This is a bit of an interlude chapter since I haven't really gotten Cregan's POV after the Shadowbinder attack, and I wanted to show how he would bring the North from obscurity in his capacity as a Lord. I decided to do it now, since I'm planning on doing the Great Council in the next chapter, so things should pick up from there. As usual, please let me know what you think and if you have any suggestions.
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If you want to support me, check out my patréon at https://www.patréon.com/athassprkr
I tend to upload drafts of early chapters on there to get people's opinions on them, so you can read up to 20 chapters ahead as a bonus.
Thank you guys for your support in these hard times.