章 20: Chapter 20
Winterfell was truly a beautiful castle. Not just because of its size and architecture, as there are plenty of those in Westeros. No, it had something magical about it, and both Ancalagon and he could feel it clearly. It was no wonder, since Winterfell was allegedly built with the help of humans, giants, and a great deal of magic. He wouldn't be surprised if he found runes in the very foundations of Winterfell.
As Kaelarys and Myranda admired the castle, they noticed the gates of Winterfell opening and a small troop of soldiers riding out towards them. It was only a handful, but Kaelarys recognized them immediately.
The man riding at the forefront of the troop had hair as black as the night and was of great stature. Upon his head, he wore a crown—the obvious crown of the King of the North. It was an open circlet of hammered bronze incised with runes of the First Men, surmounted by nine black iron spikes in the shape of longsword.
"Oh," Kaelarys exclaimed. "It looks like the King himself is coming to greet us. Come, Myranda, let's go down."
Ancalagon lowered his wing to allow them to dismount more easily. Kaelarys climbed down first and then helped Myranda. She was still a bit clumsy when it came to this, but it was understandable—she had never needed to learn how to navigate around a dragon before.
Once on the ground, they walked a bit farther away from Ancalagon, allowing the King and his party to think clearly without constantly fearing the dragon. Not that it would truly help, but he did what he could.
The riders came closer and stopped a few meters in front of Kaelarys and Myranda. Without their own horses, the confrontation looked quite amusing from the outside. The riders, clearly outnumbering them, in armor and armed, seemed very uncertain and frightened of a simple man and woman. The only weapon Kaelarys carried was a Valyrian dagger, while his sword remained with Ancalagon.
Due to Ancalagon's size, he required an appropriately large saddle. This meant that, even though Kaelarys couldn't take much with him, the saddle provided enough storage for a few extra clothes, a sword or two, and food and drink.
King Harren, observing the scene, dismounted his horse and walked toward them, his crown glinting in the light. His soldiers remained wary, their hands on their weapons, but they did not advance further.
Kaelarys followed suit and advanced towards him with Myranda in tow. Kaelarys and King Harren stared deeply into each other's eyes, neither making the first move. No words were spoken, and silence reigned until Kaelarys broke it with a chuckle.
"I must say, you look exactly like I imagined a Stark would. Oh, where are my manners? My name is Kaelarys Baelaeron of House Baelaeron. Beside me is the lovely Myranda from Lys, but it may please you to hear that her origins are in the North, a countrywoman of sorts," he chuckled at his own words. "You must be King Harren, if I'm not mistaken. You should know, I didn't always pay attention in my lessons with my tutor, so please forgive me if I'm wrong."
He could see the confusion clearly in King Harren's eyes. He had certainly expected something from the meeting, but this was definitely not it.
"That is true. However, I must respond in kind. I know of the noble House Baelaeron and some other notable families of the Valyrian Freehold, but due to the rather... slight connection between the two realms and the great distance, the education in that regard was... lacking, to say the least," King Harren began, finally relaxing now that he had a clearer picture of the situation at hand.
"I am pleased to welcome such a noble family as yours as my guests, but I am curious about your purpose here. Rarely, if ever, have dragonriders ventured to Westeros," he continued.
"Ah, yes, that is true. I apologize if I must use such words, but the people of Essos often find the customs and ways of the Westerosi to be very... primitive or even barbaric. However, I must let you know that this is neither my view nor that of my companion here." he gestured to Myrand, who nodded at his words and spoke up herself.
"What he says is the truth, Your Grace. We have come to admire the landscapes and sights your lands offer and forge new friendships. You need not worry." Myrand promised Harren.
Kaelarys could understand Harren. He is a king and must make the right decisions to protect his people and family. But a dragon at the gates is a pretty good argument for allowing your guest entry into your home, whether you like it or not.
"If that is the case, I see no problem in granting you entry to my house," Harren replied.
He turned to his men and said, "Ride back and bring two horses suitable for the status of our guests. We can hardly make them walk back to Winterfell."
His soldiers nodded and quickly rode off to carry out the orders. Harren turned back to Kaelarys and Myranda. "I am not familiar with dragons. Is there anything I need to be aware of and a way to ensure that he doesn't attack people in the area?"
"How do you know it's not a she?" Myranda asked jokingly.
"I admit, I don't really know much about dragons, but he appeared male to me. Was I wrong?"
"No, don't let Myranda mislead you, King Harren. Ancalagon is as much a male as you and I," Kaelarys reassured with a smile and continued. "And to answer your other question, Ancalagon is intelligent and well-trained. I will instruct him, and he will obey. Have no fear."
Just as Kaelarys finished his sentence, the three of them heard the galloping of horses. The riders sent by King Harren returned with two more horses. One was a tall, ebony stallion with a glossy coat that shone like polished obsidian. The other horse was a graceful mare with a coat of pure white. Both were great horses, most likely war horses and not your common horse when looking at their powerful muscles.
Kaelarys helped Myranda with the white one while he mounted the ebony one himself. It was a very short ride, and when they arrived, they were not greeted by the grand reception Kaelarys was accustomed to, but rather by a castle full of soldiers, many of whom wore expressions of fear. However, he noticed that some battle-hardened veterans didn't look the least bit scared. You had to hand it to the Northerners—they were one stubborn people.
At the forefront of the somewhat strange welcoming ceremony, if you could call it that, was a heavily pregnant woman. Next to her was a young man, just out of his teenage years, but already possessing the stature of a true warrior. Obviously the king's son, mused Kaelarys, as he saw the spitting image of Harren, minus the beard.
Another boy stood on the other side of the woman, slightly younger, just entering his growth spurt, perhaps 10 or 11 years old by the looks of it. And finally, a little girl. While the eldest was the spitting image of his father, and the younger brother was the image of his mother, the girl was a perfect mix.
She had her mother's hair, her luck, he joked to himself while looking at King Harren's unruly hair, but clearly her father's eyes. How much more she would resemble either of her parents would be revealed as she grew older.
Everyone else present were warriors and soldiers of House Stark.
A brief glance was enough to see that they were not prepared for them. How could they be? They looked more like they had run a marathon, with the queen heavily pregnant as well.
He glanced to his right and saw in Myranda's eyes that she noticed the same.
"Oops," he muttered.
While Harren went to his wife, Kaelarys swung off his horse and helped Myranda down.
"It is an honor to welcome you to our sacred halls," the queen began rather icily, though it was hidden behind her smile. Not that it surprised him. She was heavily pregnant, just had the fright of her life, and well... she was pregnant, a true roller coaster of emotions.
Yet, he respected her. She showed no fear and even allowed herself to express how unhappy she was about the situation. Foolish? Certainly, but also brave. But where does one end and the other begin?
"I see," he said while looking at her belly before looking up. "It was not my intention to frighten you, a great mistake on my part. You must forgive me; where I come from, we are permitted to land wherever we want."
He didn't have to apologize, but why make unnecessary enemies? Especially when he was here to do the opposite, among other things.
Her anger visibly cooled down. "Your apology is accepted, but not needed. We were just surprised, that is all."
Before anyone else could say anything, King Harren spoke. "I have already told my queen who you are, but it would be appropriate to introduce you to my family," he commented.
"This here is my wife Elara Stark, Queen of the North, while this big boy here," he grinned and clapped his hand on his eldest son's shoulder, "is Cregan Stark, my heir. My other child," he gestured to his middle son, "is Edrick Stark, and my youngest, Anya Stark," he finished as all three children greeted him.
"Please," the queen spoke again. "Follow me to the Great Hall, where it is warmer."
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Well, I at least did finish this chapter.
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