Snow fell in swirling sheets, muffling the sounds of horses, boots, and the low murmur of wary voices. The high walls and grey towers of Winterfell loomed before Aryan Targaryen, now King and dragonlord—no longer the timid exile of old, but a monarch whose name and deeds had startled the world awake. Beside him rode Daenerys, a blue-scaled dragon glittering at her shoulder, while Verdantyr—grown to the size of an oxcart—circled overhead, letting drifts of white gather on scales that burned with heat beneath.
This was no war-host. Aryan's retinue came as guests, not conquerors: envoys from the Reach and Riverlands, a cadre of Unsullied for honor but not intimidation, and a handful of Westerosi loyal to his cause. Their banners hung limp in the heavy air, watched with silent intensity by Stark men lining Winterfell's ramparts.
Inside, Lord Eddard Stark waited.
Unbroken Ice
Aryan entered the great hall where Ned Stark sat beneath the direwolf's head, his children at his sides: Robb grown tall and wary, Sansa and Arya both curious and guarded, Bran peering brightly from his maester's bench, Rickon watching the dragons with blunt awe. Aryan sensed their unease—Stark memories stretched back to dragons and fire, and not all were easy.
Yet Ned rose and inclined his head, grave and respectful. "Your Grace. Winterfell honors peace, if your word holds true."
Aryan bowed in return, no arrogance in his poise. "Lord Stark, I come seeking not subjugation, but kinship. You know what war has cost. I seek a realm, not of fire and ashes, but of oaths kept and justice for all."
The hall was tense as Aryan laid out his new vision: education and unity for the great houses, a council including Stark, Martell, Tyrell, and Tully. "Let us forge a peace that endures past our names," he vowed, "and share in rule, not absolute command. No more southern lords sent north as kings or conquerors—let the North remain the North, free and part of the realm."
He invited Ned's youngest to foster in King's Landing, just as Stark squires had once served under good kings. Daenerys pledged friendship to the Lady Stark, speaking gently of the horrors of exile—the dangers of pride and vengeance. "We have changed, and wish the world to change as well."
Oaths of Frost and Fire
For three days, feasts and talks followed. Bran clambered up the dragons' legs, exclaiming over their hot scales and quick wit. Arya questioned Daenerys fiercely about fighting and freedom, while even Sansa found in the queen a friend who valued poise and dreams, not just duty. Robb walked the ramparts with Aryan, speaking openly of his fears—would the South ever truly accept a peaceful North? Aryan assured him, "My duty is to unite, not oppress. As long as the North remembers, I will remember."
On the third night, Ned Stark called the banners and spoke before the assembled lords, his words carrying both the weight of Northern tradition and hope for something new.
"The dragon has not come as a destroyer, but as healer. If the king keeps to his oaths, the North will honor him—and the Wall, too, will know his support as winter comes."
The hall echoed with cautious but rising cheers. Maester Luwin drafted new charters of law and council. Aryan and Daenerys knelt at the heart tree, swearing their peace beneath the red leaves and the Old Gods with Ned beside them.
Unseen Threats
Yet not all threats lay in arms and banners. Messengers brought troubling news: in the Vale, Lord Baelish sowed intrigue and rumors of Targaryen ambitions. On the Iron Islands, the Greyjoys gathered ships, whispers of rebellion on the wind. Most ominous of all, ranging brothers of the Night's Watch reported wildlings fleeing from something older and darker than bandits; the Old Powers stirring beyond the Wall.
Aryan took counsel at midnight with Daenerys and Ned. "The wars of men may wane, but the age of old magic stirs. We must send peace north—supplies, aid for the Watch—while we look south and east for the snakes that would poison our peace." Daenerys agreed, and they discussed dispatching dragons to patrol the Wall, a promise that the new regime would not let darkness descend unchecked.
A New Dawn
Before dawn, Aryan stood in the snow with Daenerys and the young princes and princesses of both houses. Verdantyr, now enormous, landed among them, bowing his head so even Rickon could stroke his massive jaw.
Aryan spoke quietly to the children: "You are the future of Westeros. Not swords or thrones, but your friendships, your courage, your choices. Let the world learn at last that peace is more than the absence of war—it is the courage to build something better, together."
Overhead, three dragons soared—bright marks against the pinkening sky. For the first time in half a century, Winterfell woke to fire not of fear, but of promise.
The long night was not ended, but the first day of the dragon's reign had truly begun.
End of Chapter 25