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"Your Imperial Majesty..." Catelyn started, wanting to speak, but hesitated. She couldn’t possibly say 'I agree' on Ned’s behalf, could she?

Viserys, sensing her conflict, interrupted. "That's not why I ca to see you today," he said, turning to address the Northern lords gathered behind her. "Everyone, I have so bad news."

His words sent a ripple of tension through the crowd. Bad news? The lords exchanged uneasy glances, wondering if the North was about to be punished. When soone as powerful as Viserys Targaryen spoke of bad news, it usually ant disaster.

But the news he shared was nothing they could have anticipated.

"I’ve spent so ti at the Wall, fighting alongside the Night’s Watch. We’ve encountered the White Walkers—creatures thought to be re legends. I killed one myself."

"What? White Walkers?" Greatjon Umber was the first to react, his face a mix of shock and disbelief. His family lived closest to the Wall, and the implications of Viserys's words hit him hardest.

The other lords were equally stunned. Even if the Lord Commander of the Night’s Watch had made such a claim, few would have believed him. But coming from Viserys Targaryen, the words demanded consideration. After all, Viserys had no reason to lie.

Viserys continued, explaining his plan to bring tens of thousands of wildlings south of the Wall to fortify its defenses. "They will beco a force to guard the Wall, helping to fight this ancient enemy."

"Your Gr.. Your Imperial Majesty, you cannot just give away Northern lands!" Greatjon protested, clearly alard. The wildlings would settle near his own territory, and the thought of them so close unnerved him.

"If you cooperate fully," Viserys said, his voice calm but resolute, "I swear by the Targaryen na that I will not pursue House Umber for its role in the War of the Usurper. Your lands and titles will remain intact." His words were both an offer and a veiled threat, backed by the unwavering conviction of a man who held dragons at his command.

As if to punctuate his statent, the Yellow Dragon let out a deep, rumbling roar. Greatjon, visibly shaken, found himself at a crossroads. To agree would seem like betrayal, but to refuse ant defying a Targaryen—and potentially facing a dragon’s wrath.

Viserys’s ssage was clear: those who cooperated would have a chance to keep their lands and titles. Those who didn’t would face the consequences.

"There is one more thing," Viserys added, before anyone could respond. He turned to the assembled lords. "I know it is your custom to keep the bodies of your ancestors in crypts. But the White Walkers can raise the dead, turning them into mindless wights that kill without rcy. I ask that when you return, you burn any intact bodies you find."

The Northern lords were stunned. The dead, resurrected? It sounded like a myth, sothing out of ancient stories. Yet Viserys’s calm authority left no room for doubt. Whether they believed it or not, they had been warned.

Viserys had achieved his goals. He had delivered his ssage, one that would soon spread throughout the North and beyond—to King's Landing, where it would surely deepen the divide between Robert and Ned. I hope the fat stag still trusts his sworn brother as much as he once did, Viserys thought with a hint of amusent.

With that, he mounted the Yellow Dragon. Under the watchful eyes of the Northern lords, soldiers, and nobles, he took to the sky, disappearing into the clouds.

As the lords watched him vanish, their minds were filled with mixed emotions. Viserys hadn’t co to conquer them—at least, not yet. But what if Ned decided to defy the Targaryens? The Starks had ruled the North for 8,000 years. Could they turn their backs on their Lord for an emperor who claid dragons?

At that mont, Catelyn spoke up, her voice steady but firm: "My lords, I wish to return to King's Landing."

So of the more astute Northern lords imdiately grasped the significance of her words. Catelyn intended to intervene, perhaps to nd the growing rift between Ned and Robert.

"My lady, allow to escort you," Rickard offered, stepping forward. He wasn’t sure where Ned’s mind stood in all of this, but he knew it was worth trying to smooth the path between the North and the capital.

Before Catelyn could respond, Robb spoke up. "Theon, escort my mother to King's Landing with half of my personal guard."

Theon nodded, understanding the gravity of the task. Catelyn offered a brief, appreciative glance to her son, but her mind was already on what awaited her in King’s Landing.

...

Not long after Viserys returned to the Wall, preparations for the fleet were nearly complete. With his departure for Slaver's Bay approaching, Viserys knew he needed to make an impression. To that end, fifty giants, handpicked by Mag the Mighty, would accompany him as part of the spectacle.

At Eastwatch-by-the-Sea, the Lord Commander of the Night’s Watch, Jeor Mormont, along with Chief Ranger Benjen Stark, Lord Commander Denys Mallister of the Shadow Tower, and other key mbers of the Night’s Watch, gathered to bid him farewell.

"Your Grace, the Night's Watch will never forget your support," Old Bear said with a rare smile.

For years, Mormont had felt like he was fighting a losing battle, with little more than a handful of n and scant resources to defend the realm. But Viserys's arrival had changed everything. For the first ti in years, he felt like there was soone powerful watching over the Wall.

Viserys had achieved what no one else had in thousands of years—he had resolved the wildling threat to the North. Though the Night's Watch knew the White Walkers remained a more formidable danger, they now had sothing they had long lacked: a king who understood the stakes and stood behind them.

"If you need anything, just send soone to Winterfell. Now that they know about the White Walkers, they should increase their support for the Night's Watch."

"Yes, Your Grace."

Viserys knew that Jorah and his father still had sothing to say, so he first helped Aemon into the boat.

Once Aemon had left, Old Bear called Jorah aside.

"His Grace Viserys is a good king, and you must remain loyal..."

"Yes, Father," said Jorah.

But the Old Bear continued in a low voice, "I'm not finished yet!"

He then unsheathed the family sword, Longclaw, from his belt. It was a steel sword with a wavy blade. Since the Lannisters had lost their ancestral sword, Brightroar, Tywin tried to buy another from other lords. One of them was Bear Island.

Of course, they rejected him.

The Old Bear looked at the sword with reluctance before saying, "Take this sword, protect Viserys, fight for him, and when you die, return it to Bear Island."

"I know, Father."

As he watched the sails of the fleet gradually rise, the Old Bear turned and said, "I'll be fine, you can go."

Jorah sheathed the ancestral sword and was about to leave. However, just as he turned, Old Bear stepped closer and added, "If it's a boy, call him Ned. If it's a girl... call her Lyanna."

"I understand, Father."

The conversation between father and son was brief, but weighty. As the Old Bear watched the fleet recede into the distance, his eyes moistened, but the biting snowstorm from the North soon dried them.

Now, although the Night's Watch is more adequately staffed than ever before, the enemy they face is stronger than ever.

All the Night's Watch mbers hope that Viserys will defeat Robert soon and set things right. Only by uniting everyone can they survive the Long Night.

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