Chapter 224: Rickard, the Old Wolf
273 AC, The North, Winterfell.
The visiting procession was like a glittering river interwoven with gold, silver, and steel. There were about a hundred of them, consisting of Prince Rhaegar's proud Dragon Guard knights. The cold northern wind flapped the black banners, which were embroidered with the roaring Silver Dragon symbolizing the Prince himself. The young knights were heavily bundled, as Ser Barristan had repeatedly warned them about the northern cold to prevent frostbite.
"The North, like Dorne, has two natural protectors. One is the deep winter, and the other is the scorching heat," Ser Barristan told his subordinates. When Dorne was conquered previously, the yellow sands, the desert, the heat, and the lack of water were Dorne's best generals. It was the same in the North; the cold and General Winter were unmatched.
"What a terrifying force! Armor and weaponry are only one aspect of an army; the killing intent and morale are far more important!" Even far away in the North, Lord Rickard had heard of this unit—an invincible, highly decorated young army, the fierce dragons tamed by Prince Rhaegar. The northern barbarians generally believed that southerners engaged in superficial martial arts and had no interest in duels, but such a murderous elite force was indeed quite impressive.
Lord Rickard looked up at the sky. As the procession arrived, dragons also appeared in the air. The figures of the dragon trio grew from small black dots until the full forms of the dragons were revealed. The commanding dragon circled a few times before landing, and the elegant, silver-haired Dragonrider descended.
"It seems the legends are true. During the Dance of the Dragons, when Jacaerys Velaryon came to the North to fulfill the agreement with House Stark, the dragons became irritable due to the cold and ice. Dragons originate from blood and fire; cold and the deep sea are their natural enemies!"
The northern chill and cold made the dragons somewhat irritable, and the roars of the dragon trio shook Winterfell. Dragons inherently dislike the cold, and Rhaegar believed they should equally dislike the deep sea. However, Rhaegar's dragons were also infused with the protection of runic fire, allowing them to better withstand this chill and prevent a complete loss of composure.
"Although it's quite cold here, thankfully I have the Blood of the Dragon!" Rhaegar's body was relatively adaptable to high temperatures, deep winter, and water. Even in this harsh weather, his fire runes allowed him to adapt easily.
Lord Rickard, slightly over thirty years old, had a stern, long face, dark brown hair, gray eyes, and a neatly trimmed beard that was starting to show gray. He appeared tall and sturdy. The Old Wolf looked older than his actual age, perhaps due to the harsh conditions of the North. Rhaegar felt that the Old Wolf was quite capable; before the Old Wolf and his son were burned alive, the Old Wolf had demanded trial by combat, showing great confidence in his martial skills, otherwise he would not have chosen such a destructive gamble. But now everything had changed, and Rickard did not have to accept that mad fate.
"Truly a glorious True Dragon!"
Rickard saw the man before him, an invincible, unparalleled Dragonlord. Rhaegar wore clothing interwoven with black, red, and silver, with a black background featuring symmetrical three-headed silver dragons and three-headed red dragons. Rhaegar's silver short hair was adorned with a steel circlet set with large rubies. His face was peerlessly handsome, and his eyes showed determined victory. He seemed to possess a kind of magic, like the high sun shining upon the world, capable of being gentle or tyrannical. The summer sun radiates heat, while the winter sun is warm and soft. He had conquered everything, effortlessly wielding power and authority, yet he came across as both a refined nobleman and an unmatched general.
Rhaegar shook hands with Lord Rickard. Lord Rickard was indeed quite tall, but Rhaegar would soon catch up to him; Rhaegar was already six feet one inch. Rhaegar estimated he might eventually grow to six feet seven inches, making him a tall man.
"Welcome to the North, Prince Rhaegar!" Rickard scrutinized Rhaegar. Many years ago, Rickard had also visited King's Landing, and Prince Rhaegar was just a child then. Unexpectedly, in less than a decade, the young dragon had achieved feats comparable to his ancestors. The young dragon was fully grown and could already hunt tigers and leopards. The little boy under his parents' wings was now famous both at home and abroad.
"I will be troubling Winterfell for a while, Lord Rickard!" Rhaegar said to Rickard, the Old Wolf, the Lord of Winterfell, and the executor of the Southern Ambitions. Rhaegar felt that Rickard was tall and sturdy, possessing some of the spirit of Cregan Stark. Rickard was the main orchestrator of the current Southern Ambitions. If he hadn't harbored such immense ambition, none of the subsequent events would have occurred; everything was fate. However, Lord Rickard was the master, Brandon the Wild Wolf was the vanguard, and the rest of his children were merely pieces on the board.
"The honor is all mine!" Lord Rickard smiled, a rare sight, and then introduced his family to Rhaegar: Rickard's wife and cousin, his eldest son Brandon, his daughter Lyanna, and his youngest son Benjen.
Rhaegar noted that one person was missing: Eddard, the second son, who had been sent to the Eyrie to become the ward of Jon Arryn. This had historical roots, as a lady of House Stark had once married into House Royce. Therefore, when Robb failed in the original timeline, he left the position of heir to Jon Snow, though his mother Catelyn had objected.
"Today is a grand gathering of the wolf pack!" Rhaegar looked around. The North's attitude toward him was very friendly. After all, this was the first time a Dragonrider had arrived after so many years. Rhaegar saw the Old Wolf Rickard and the Old Wolf's wife. He saw Brandon the Head Wolf, Lyanna the She-Wolf, and the youngest, Benjen.
Lyanna was described as beautiful by everyone who knew her; she had the characteristic long face, brown hair, and gray eyes of House Stark.
Lyanna was still a young girl. She saw the smiling young knight before her, who seemed like bright sunshine, an unchanged legend, the Prince of Princes, the Master of Dragons. Rhaegar felt that Lyanna's looks might fall slightly short of Roberta and Shireen, but she was still extremely beautiful. More importantly, the Winter Rose of the North possessed the unique blood of the wolf, making her willful, stubborn, brave, fearless, and fiery-tempered.
At night, a grand feast was held. Everyone saw the gray direwolf banner hanging on the walls, alongside the black dragon on a silver field. This was a dance between dragon and wolf, and all that was needed was patience.
Rhaegar watched the dignitaries entering the banquet one after another, starting with Lord and Lady Rickard, followed by Rhaegar and Lyanna.
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