~ Maegor Stark POV ~
~ The Summer Sea - 33 years before the Doom of Valyria ~
As I stood upon the stern of the ship watching as the Orange Coast and Volantis were left behind, the final stretch of our journey east to Valyria from the North was coming to an end.
Watching the sea creatures swimming by I began reminiscing about the last five years of my life as a prince of Winterfell and secret king of the Earthsingers and the Old Gods.
After visiting the Wall with my parents; my adventures beyond the Wall, my subsequent enthronement as the Greenseer King after exploring the Nightfort and discovery of the weirwood gates Bifrorstisc instant travel capabilities. We returned to Winterfell for a time, and for the next three years we would travel back and forth between the Kingdom's of southern Westeros and the Kingdom of the North. As a prince and son of the King of Winter, my father, Prince Barthogan was often sent south to be an envoy to secure more grain after an oftentimes disappointing harvest of the northern realms fields after harsh snowfalls.
I would at time's be able to travel with my father and my mother Daenora, who would often rather have stayed behind with me in Winterfell when the weather was unbearable for her. Especially during the short but heavy winter of the eleventh year of my birth, a year of my mother vehemently refusing to step outside of the castle's heated walls no matter what. The piping and funneling of the underground hotspring water running through the walls being my mother's obviously favorite part of the North that year. Beyond the rugged beauty of the lands minus its biting cold that she fell in love with when she first arrived.
As for Snowylocks and the other Earthsingers, they remain North of the Wall for now. Still within the sacred godswoods underground caverns, protecting my throne and being protected it by the shadow copy I left behind on said throne. Plus the direwolf pack lead by my bonded snow white furred crimson eyed alpha.
A bond that was almost instantaneous upon our meeting after the Earthsingers were able to locate and bring the whole pack to the weirwood caverns. Luckily I didn't have to wait long for that as they found the pack a day after my crowning and Snowylocks vision of the future of my reign. A vision that has caused her to become a fanatic subject to my throne, making my words law to her and the rest of her kin. She commanded that the best of their trackers and wargs be sent out immediately after swearing all Earthsingers gathered to me as their Old Gods chosen king/messiah, posed to lead them into a green paradise. Paul Muad'Dib Atreides vibes on a scale of a endangered underground community of wood nymphs, ravens and now a growing direwolf pack.
The alpha, who I had named Fenris after Fenrisúlfr or Fenrir of the Norse mythology, the mythical wolf son of Loki who devours Odin at the end of Ragnarök, willingly bonded to me after a short fight for dominance. Mostly me grappling him, a direwolf the size of a horse, to the ground while avoiding his fangs and claws. I was finally able to get my direwolf form after a few drops of blood from Fenris, which he didn't mind giving after becoming his bond, and a growing direwolf pack growing up and protecting my throne and the weirwood caverns and its inhabitants. Something that the Earthsingers and ravens didn't mind at all since it meant more protection from the white shadows of the Others. That, along with the wards around the gods grove powered by the Old Gods and reinforced by my power, guaranteed them safety.
When we first returned to Winterfell after the weeks of freezing cold winds of the Wall and my sparring sessions with my grand uncle, the Lord Commander, my first destination was the godswoods of Winterfell. I had to make sure that the Wall wouldn't obstruct my weirwood Bifrorstisc instant travel to my weirwood throne up north and luckily it didn't. Then came months of preparing the Kingdom of Winter for the coming of winter; securing granaries, smoking meats for preserved jerky, and accepting the small folks into keeps until the capacity is reached.
After the hard winter, which had many gray-beards and elders wandering into the forest to die so they wouldn't burden their families, and even small hamlets quietly starving and dying unheard in the howling blizzards.
It reminded me of the episode of the show when Sandor 'The Hound' Clegane and The Brotherhood Without Banners stumble on the peasant father and daughter again after The Hound stole their silver the first time when he was traveling with Arya Stark. The father was cradling his young daughters malnourished body, who he had slit the throat of before turning the knife on himself. Imagine that but on the scale of a small hamlets scattered across the north.
That was what was awaiting us after winter broke a cold long year later. My grandfather, the King, ordered a royal precession across the kingdom in order to give alms to the surviving population. Those that did not were given proper burials and quiet prayers to the Old Gods for the spirits to rest, sometimes buried next to weirwoods or small personal effects left upon their graves. Those that did survive were given what was left of the granaries and the freedom to hunt some game in the forests if available.
After fifteen years of life as a northern princess, traveling the Sunset Kingdom's, and a letter from her nephew, Aenar Targaryen the Lord Freeholder of her House, my mother decided to travel back home to Valyria. So my father, mother and I packed up and left the Kingdom of the North and Westeros with some two dozen guards and servant's.
We traveled to White Harbor, a budding port city of the Norths eastern coast, and charted a ship to Essos. The Valyrian Freehold ruled Essos minus a few Kingdom's of northern Essos like the city-state of Braavos, the Secret City founded by escaped slaves of the Valyrian Empire. Called the Secret City because Braavos won't be on any maps for another hundred years from now, when all but House Targaryen is left as the last of the Valyrian Freeholders and sole dragonlords left in the world.
Instead of the Secret City we sailed from Westeros and first docked onto the continent of Essos in Pentos, the closest coastal city across the Narrow Sea from Westeros. Before the Doom of Valyria, Pentos was a wealthy trading post and coastal city within the Valyrian Freehold's sphere of influence. While some claim it predates the Dragonlords, it either owed allegiance to or was founded by Valyrian merchants.
After Pentos we sailed unencumbered down the coast sailing past Tyrosh; established as a strategic military outpost of the Valyrian Freehold to control shipping through the Stepstones, Myr a walled Andal town conquered and transformed into a colony by merchant adventurers from the Valyrian Freehold, and Lys established as a sunny, fertile coastal colony of the Valyrian Freehold. Primarily a trading outpost and resort destination for dragonlords, it was renowned for its beauty and served as a retreat for the elite of the Freehold.
Stopping and docking to restock once in Lys, we enjoyed the beautiful island for a few days before sailing east on the Summer Sea.
Our final stop before reaching the Valyrian peninsula was Volantis. Volantis was the first colony, the future "first daughter" of the Valyrian Freehold, founded as a strategic garrison to secure the Rhoyne region following the fall of the Old Empire of Ghis. Volantis is a port city, and its large, deep harbor is ideally placed. Volantis spreads across the mouth of the Rhoyne and across the hills and marshes on both sides of the river. The older districts of the city lie upon the eastern banks, while the newer districts are located on the west. These two halves are connected by the Long Bridge.
Now days away from the western coastal city of the Valyrian peninsula, Aquos Dhaen, my Targaryen side of my family awaits. My uncle Aenar has someone stationed there for us to take us down the dragon-roads of Valyria to to the capital city named Valyria. A capital city said to have a thousand dragon's flying the skyline daily and yet a calamitous death awaits it and the peninsula in just a little more than three short decades.
Dragon roars echo across the sea as we draw closer to Valyria. I smile at the sound and turn from the view to head back to my cabin.
~