"I give you two options: kneel or perish. There is no third option." - Aenar I Targaryen, God-Emperor of Planetos.
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All eyes turned to the tall boy with the golden-white hair. He was wearing black clothes, but the red crest of the three-headed dragon was unmistakable to anyone present. Next to him was a woman in white armor with grey eyes, as well as a smaller girl whom everyone knew as Arya Stark.
Maege looked at the boy, stunned. She hadn't imagined that the man they had just spoken about would appear in front of her at the sa mont.
Ignoring everyone's stares, Aenar walked to the seat of the Winter Kings and, under Eddard's helpless gaze, sat down on the throne that only the Lords of Winterfell could occupy, or their wives in the case of regency.
Seeing Eddard cede the Winter Throne to Aenar, all the Northern Lords felt that sothing was incredibly wrong. It was almost as if Lord Stark was bending the knee to the boy. This frightened them for a mont.
Faced with confused and incredulous looks from the Northern Lords and Ladies, Aenar spoke in a calm tone:
"Before we begin, I am Aenar of House Targaryen, First of Your Na, son of Lady Lyanna of House Stark and Prince Rhaegar of House Targaryen."
When his voice faded, a montary silence followed, before swords were drawn, axes raised to chop off heads and warhamrs prepared to smash them.
Greatjon, in particular, held his huge sword as if it were a toy. The blade was bigger than Ice, the Valyrian steel sword of House Stark.
"This is not your rightful place, fruit of rape." - The Lord of the Last Hearth growled angrily, glaring at the arrogant Targaryen boy.
Aenar laughed and replied: "I don't rember asking permission to sit down, Lord Umber." He paused and then looked at Greatjon with a cold gaze.
"And watch your words. I'll cut your head off if you ever accuse my father of being a rapist again. He married my mother under witness, and that was proven with evidence in the Oldtown."
Aenar's words left everyone incredulous, which was understandable, given that they had fought a war to recover Lyanna, kidnapped by Rhaegar Targaryen.
"And why should we believe his words?" Maege asked, analyzing Lyanna's son with a deep, penetrating gaze.
"Don't you know it yourself, Lady Mormont?" Aenar smiled, amused. "My mother was a wolf and she was from the North. If soone tried to rape her, she would cut off the attacker's cock and make him eat it."
His words made many won on Bear Island nod. Maege, in particular, who had trained Lyanna to ride a horse, knew this better than anyone.
She also rembered how Lyanna had taken part in the Tournant of Harrenhal as the mysterious Knight of the Laughing Tree and competed halfway through the event, before having to flee on the orders of King Aerys II.
(Note: Although the theory that Lyanna was the Knight of the Laughing Tree has not been confird, I prefer to believe it rather than the theory that Howland Reed took on this role. Rhaegar took part in the search for the mysterious knight, and it's possible that he t Lyanna while she was still changing clothes. This would make more sense for the developnt of their relationship and would better explain why Rhaegar crowned Lyanna Queen of Love and Beauty).
"That still doesn't prove anything." Greatjon muttered, raising his voice. His statent made those who were still undecided look at Aenar with more hostility.
"I lost my husband in the war that your despicable father and grandfather started. If you think I'm going to kneel before you, you're wrong. I'd rather burn in your dragon's flas than kneel to the cause of my husband's death."
Barbrey Dustin, wife of William Dustin, who had perished in the war twelve years ago, spoke with a cold and indifferent tone.
"If you wish, I will reward Milady with fire. I will extinguish your husband's noble House, which so many Lords and Ladies of House Dustin have sweated, bled and given their lives to preserve."
Aenar showed no emotion at Lady Dustin's words. He stared at her, observing her mature beauty, and replied with an equally icy tone.
Her words fell like a bucket of cold water on Barbrey, abruptly snapping her out of the stupor of anger. And it wasn't just her who woke up, silence spread through the hall as everyone processed the imminent threat of the destruction of their own hos.
Aenar cast a satisfied glance at the thoughtful expression on the faces of those present and continued before their indecision dissipated:
"I know that many have lost loved ones in the war. I too have lost important people. My grandfathers killed each other, my uncle died because of it, and my parents perished in the conflict, as did Lady Dustin's husband. My Good Mother, Queen Elia, was raped and then cut in half by Gregor Clegane's sword. My brother Aegon, who was only a baby, had his head smashed against the wall."
Aenar paused, letting his words sink into the minds of the Northern Lords.
"But we're not in a tournant to decide who lost the most. We have all suffered, and the dead will not return."
His gaze, laden with sincerity, swept over every face in the hall.
The young Targaryen's words struck a chord with many of the Lords of the North, including Lady Barbrey. One by one, they began to sit down, somber expressions dominating their faces as they rembered the loved ones they had lost.
Then a man's voice broke the silence: "He is the son of Lyanna and Rhaegar. Lord Stark and I were present when he was born. I saw with my own eyes when Lyanna declared that she was married to Rhaegar and begged Lord Stark to protect the boy. And so he did, raising him as a bastard for twelve long years, even if it tarnished his honor."
Everyone turned their gaze to Howland Reed, the Lord of Greywater Watch. When they saw Aenar sitting on the Winter Throne, they rembered the bastard boy they had seen before. Comparing them closely, they realized that it was indeed the sa boy, which only confird that Howland was telling the truth.
"So why did the war happen?" asked Maege, in a genuinely confused voice.
"A conspiracy to destroy House Targaryen, orchestrated by the Faith of the Seven, the Order of the Maesters and Lords of the Great Houses." replied Aenar, before continuing: "My father, Rhaegar, sent a letter to my grandfather Rickard warning him about the wedding. He gave it to Lysa Tully, but the letter never reached him. Instead, another letter, written by Hoster Tully, was delivered, saying that Lyanna had been taken to King's Landing."
The aning of Aenar's words fell like a sharp blade on those present. Anger began to well up in everyone's hearts, even Eddard Stark's. He had married his daughter. He had married the daughter of the man responsible for the death of his father and brother. How could he not feel hatred?
"Fucking southerners!!!"
"Filthy traitors!!!"
"They must all die and burn in the wrath of the Old Gods!"
The shouts echoed through the hall.
Barbrey snorted coldly and said, "I always said the Maesters were traitorous gray rats."
She had always believed that she hadn't married Brandon Stark because of Walys, Rickard's Maester at Winterfell, who had convinced him to marry Brandon to Catelyn Tully. Now it all made sense. It had been a conspiracy all along.
"I know you're angry. I'm even angrier. So I give you two options: kneel or perish. There is no third option."
Aenar spoke coldly, his eyes sweeping the hall, staring at the Northern Lords without hesitation.
"Prove you're a real man and fight!" Greatjon stood up and spoke aloud. He wasn't against kneeling, but he wanted to see if Aenar was worthy.
All the Lords and Ladies of the North nodded, their gazes fixed on the young Targaryen, waiting for his answer.
Aenar's answer ca quietly, but clearly.
He stepped down from his throne and drew his sword.
"This sword is called Lady Lya. It is made of Star Steel and nad after my mother."
Aenar took up a combat stance and declared: "Whoever the challenger is, step forward. I promise not to kill anyone who cos, but expect a few broken bones... or a hand."
Leda wanted to fight in the king's place, but, knowing the customs of the North, she stood still, watching everything with a calm, cold gaze, ready to defend Aenar at the slightest sign of danger.
The first to stand up against Aenar was Robett of House Glover and heir presumptive to House Glover.
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