36 Chapter 36: Warden of the North. 126 AC

As Maegor landed in front of Winter town, he saw that many northmen were entering the town, seemingly filling the previously empty lodges and houses. Autumn has come, the temperature in the north drops considerably, and for this reason, people came to this town, as this place has a hot spring that warms the people that reside in the town for the whole autumn and winter. It is said that a dragon is slumbering underneath the town, and it is the source of the heat, but none had confirmed it.

The men were scared and wary of Maegor when he got off of his dragon. The northmen eyed him, their eyes filled with fear, curiosity, and a little hatred. When Vermithor flew away from the landing spot, Maegor tightened his cloak, seemingly warming him up.

The lord of Runestone then entered the town, passing through the bustling yet muddy streets. He was walking to Winterfell, where the road was only straight ahead. On the way, he saw eyes staring at him, men and women in the corner of the street, children, beggars, all just stared at him, but didn't say anything.

A couple people scoured away from their places, seemingly hurrying off towards somewhere. Maegor just held Remembrance's hilt softly, not wanting to take any chances.

As he arrived at Winterfell, two guards were standing beside the gate. They were wearing Stark armor, with Stark sigil on their chests.

Maegor just stood in front of them, his cloak fluttering because of the cold wind, and the guards were looking at him up and down.

"M'lord." the guard nodded. "The regent will be here shortly."

Maegor hummed. "I didn't know Starks hire smallfolk to spy for them now."

"M-M'Lord?" the guard asked nervously.

"Never mind."

Not a second later, an old man wearing a stark armor came to the gate. He had a couple guards with him, and he had a cold look in his face.

"What brings you here, lord Maegor?" the regent of the north, Lord Bennard Stark, smiled weakly. "You could've sent a letter to let us know that you're visiting Winterfell. Walking through the town without guards is dangerous after all."

"I can take care of my own well-being, Lord Bennard." Maegor said. "I'm here to see Lord Cregan, Lord of Winterfell, and the Warden of the North."

Maegor caught a glimpse of Bennard frowning, but the old man quickly recovered. "My nephew is rather… indisposed, at the moment."

"Oh really?" said Maegor. "Did something happen to him?"

"He caught a sickness." said Bennard calmly. "A terrible one might I add. I am to be his regent until he recovers."

Maegor hummed. "For a northman, you spoke like a southern lord, Lord Bennard."

"Aye." Bennard chuckled. "I've been dealing with them lately."

"Interesting…" Maegor murmured. "Anyway. Am I allowed to visit my friend? If he is sick, I should probably send a raven to Runestone, so my maester can take care of him."

"I… advise you to not go, lord Maegor." said Bennard. "The sickness is infectious, and we do not want to be blamed for the king's nephew's death…"

Maegor just smiled. "I assure you, Lord Bennard. I am tougher than I look. Do you even know that men of Valyrian descent are resistant to diseases?"

"Of course. But still, we don't want to risk it." Bennard countered.

Maegor just sighed at the answer. He rested his left palm on the hilt of his sword, and it was caught by Bennard's eyes, who did the same thing.

"Lord Bennard." Maegor continued. "Do you know what the punishment of usurping a title that is not rightfully yours?"

Lord Bennard frowned. "I don't understand what you mean, Lord Maegor."

"Usurping means rebelling." Maegor said. "And rebels are traitors."

Lord Bennard held his sword's hilt tightly. "What are you implying, Lord Maegor?"

"Lord Bennard. My demand is simple. Bring me to the Lord of Winterfell, and the Warden of the North. I know no Lord of Winterfell, except Lord Cregan of House Stark."

"Why are you so insistent on going to him, Lord Maegor?" Lord Bennard. "If you worry about his well-being, then I assure you, while he is ill right now, he will recover."

"Do you want to know, Lord Bennard?" Maegor sighed. "I've had reports that a usurper occupied Winterfell, and the true wolf is imprisoned."

Lord Bennard frowned deeply again, he looked at his guards, and they were anxious as well.

"Now that I think about it, I forgot to say what is the punishment of traitors." Maegor said. "Their punishments are death. Hanging, beheading, lynching…"

Maegor then slowly unsheathed his sword. The black blade was eye-catching as the background was all white snow, the red runes are dimly glowing, giving a menacing feeling.

With his left hand, he raised his sword, and pointed it at Bennard.

The rest of the guards unsheathed their swords, along with Lord Bennard himself.

"What is the meaning of this, Lord Maegor?" questioned Bennard sternly. "You unsheathed your sword in front of me? In my land?"

"But this isn't your land, Lord Bennard." Maegor said. "This land belongs to Cregan of House Stark. The true Lord of Winterfell, and the Warden of the North."

"Are you going to fight us here?" Bennard asked again. "Look around you, Lord Maegor. You came alone, and Winterfell is filled with guards, loyal to me."

"So you don't deny it after all." Maegor hummed. "How many sons do you have? Two? Three? Well, it doesn't matter. While the sins of the father do not apply to his offspring, if they actively help you in this conspiracy, their heads will be put on a spike too."

"Give up, Lord Maegor." said Bennard. "Your impulsive youth spirit is taking you over. I will forgive you if you just go, and do not return to Winterfell. If you fight, you will die."

"I am not so sure about that, Lord Bennard." Maegor smiled. Suddenly, a thunderous roar echoed throughout the sky, frightening the smallfolk below. Vermithor flew over Winterfell, his shadow covering entire blocks of the castle, and he circled around it, seemingly taunting Lord Bennard.

Maegor saw fear in Bennard's eyes. The old man was clenching his sword tightly, seemingly thinking on what to do.

"Sheath your swords," said Bennard calmly, inhaling deep breaths. All of the guards around him sheathed their swords, including himself.

"Guards, I'll give you a choice," said Maegor. "Either escort Lord Bennard to the Winterfell dungeons, or I will burn you alive."

With the threat of dragonfire, the guards complied.

—

As Maegor walked through the hall of Winterfell, he was escorted by a young lady by the name of Lady Arra Norrey. She was a childhood friend of Cregan, she is the one who is bringing him food every day, and she is the one who sent the letter as well.

"Thank you, my lord." the lady said. "Lord Cregan insists on sending you a letter. He doesn't want to be a kinslayer. Even though Lord Bennard tried to usurp him, he is still his uncle after all."

"He will be called a kinslayer when it is justified." Maegor commented. "Lord Bennard tried to usurp him, killing him is allowed."

"Kinslaying is still kinslaying, my lord." Lady Norrey said. "Whether it is justified or not. And Lord Cregan didn't want that in his name. The lord who killed his own uncle…"

Maegor hummed. When they arrived at the room Cregan was supposed to be in, the lady knocked, and a voice sounded from behind the door.

"Arra? Is that you? What in the bloody hell is happening outside?" said the voice. "Come in."

The door opened, and Maegor saw a half naked Cregan Stark sitting on the bed. It seems he just woke up.

When Cregan saw Maegor, he laughed out loud and stood, walking towards him. "You finally fucking came!"

"Get dressed, Cregan." Maegor pointed at Cregan's six pack body. "I've dealt with your problem, well, I've imprisoned him anyway, it's up to you what to do with him."

"Oh come one, I haven't seen you in years. I heard you had children. Twins, right?" Cregan groaned. "And you married your cousin, you Targaryens and your family circle…"

"For a locked up man, you are quite informed." Maegor sighed.

"Well I'm not all muscles in here." said Cregan, pointing at his head. "I've got brains too."

Maegor hummed. Suddenly, he heard rushing footsteps outside, and it made him frown. The footsteps sounded heavy, like the men were wearing armor. Maegor quickly unsheathed his sword, and proceeded to point it at the door.

Cregan and Arra were confused. "What did you hear?" the lord of Winterfell asked.

"Armored men. Many of them." Maegor said clearly. "I suggest you find something to defend yourself. And hide Lady Norrey over there."

"What? But I thought you had dealt with them?"

Maegor hummed. "They probably gathered their guts once I'm inside Winterfell, where Vermithor can't technically defend me. But it doesn't matter."

"Ah so it has come to this." Cregan sighed as he walked towards the corner of the room. He removed a part of the wall, and retrieved something from it. It was a big and long sword.

"How the fuck do you have that?" questioned Maegor curiously.

"This?" Cregan laughed, unsheathing the big sword, Ice. "That bastard was looking for it, so I hid it. It's too heavy for combat, but this will do for now. Arra, you hide behind that drawer."

As Lady Norrey hid behind a drawer, men suddenly barged in from the door as they kicked it open, they had their swords unsheathed, and once they entered, they saw Maegor, pointing his sword at them, and they saw a half naked Cregan Stark, holding a big sword.

One of the last men to enter was Bennard himself, his sword was bloodied, he probably fought a couple of loyal men on the way.

"Lord Maegor, you're surrounded." said the Usurper calmly. "Drop your weapon, and we will not kill you."

"You seem to not be afraid of my dragon burning the Winter Town, Lord Bennard. So you don't care about them." Maegor commented.

"Autumn has come, and Winter is coming," said Bennard. "Less mouth to feed, the better."

"You are no honorable lord, uncle." Cregan spat, raising his sword. "I advise you to surrender, I do not want to be a kinslayer."

"Of course you don't want to." Bennard hummed. "Seize them."

It was 12 against 2, the guards rushed towards the two lords, their steel swords raised. Cregan, who is battle hungry, stepped in front of first. He swung the giant Valyrian steel sword horizontally as it was too heavy to hold for long, and the sword went through two men, cutting them in half.

The bodies dropped to the floor, the smell of shit from the stomach could be smelled as their guts burst open, dirtying the floor.

The room went silent at the brutality that the lord just showed. Cregan then rested the sword, nailing it to the ground. "I, Cregan of House Stark, Lord of Winterfell and The Warden of The North, sentence you to die, on the crimes of treachery and desertion."

Instead of giving up, the soldiers became desperate, as their fates were sealed. They rushed towards Cregan, swords in front, their eyes full of fear and hatred. Before they could reach him however, Maegor stepped up. He swung his sword Remembrance diagonally, creating an arc that slashed through a man's head.

The man dropped to the ground, his brain spilling out, his face not recognizable anymore. A clean diagonal cut was made through his skull, his tongue sticking out, and a gurgling sound could be heard.

When they saw their 'comrades' fall, the soldiers rushed towards Maegor. The lord of Runestone's vision turned sharp, everything around him moved slowly, and he rushed towards the men.

A man was raising his steel sword just right up his head, Maegor made a vertical slash, and it cut off the man's hand, before passing through his torso, exposing his lungs and ribs. Maegor grabbed the other approaching man by the arm, and stabbed him through his heart, and he cut the man's chest wide open.

At that display, the soldiers stopped. The blood of the soldiers that Maegor just killed was dripping slowly from his black sword, the red runes glowed ever dimly, and the soldiers noticed that the blood was slowly coming to the runes, seemingly absorbed by it.

The smell of blood permeates throughout the room. The strong smell of death made the soldiers and to a certain extent Lord Bennard dizzy, but not the two other lords.

"I suggest you give yourself in, uncle." Cregan said. "At least, by that, I will give you an honorable execution. If this goes on, you will die a dog's death."

Lord Bennard went quiet. He stared at his nephew, and he spoke. "You are always too careless and hotblooded to be a lord."

"And yet, you attacked us." Cregan pointed out. "You attacked the king's nephew. He came here under the rightful request of me, helping settle this futile dispute once and for all. If you had just given up, at least, you and your sons will live the rest of your lives in the dungeons. But now… I cannot let you be in the world of the living anymore, uncle."

"I thought you don't want to be called a kinslayer?" asked Bennard.

"Aye." Cregan said. "But the one who will seek your head is not me. It's the one who you tried to trick, it's the one who you tried to kill."

Bennard just looked at Maegor sharply. "The lords of the north will not be happy that a southern lord is involved with northern politics."

"Lord Maegor is my friend, my brother-in-arms." Cregan said. "Under my request, he came here to help the north, not to poison it. It is you who is the one who tried to poison it."

Bennard just sighed as he dropped his steel. "So it has come to this… give me at least a suitable death."

"Do not worry, Bennard." Maegor said. "I will give you a suitable death, for a traitor."

—

Maegor now stood in the yard of Winterfell, with Cregan standing beside him. Many loyal guards and courtiers surrounded them, watching as the caught traitors of Winterfell were tied in the middle of the yard, either crying or cursing at them.

Bennard Stark stood silently in front of all the traitors. His eyes were hollow, seemingly accepting his fate.

"Any last words, uncle?" Cregan asked calmly, The Valyrian Steel sword Ice nailed to the ground.

"I will not admit that what I did is wrong." Bennard said. "The north always remembers. When the Targaryen queen gave our fertile lands to the night's watch, only to be wasted because they didn't have men to take care of it, our hatred grew. While our people starved because of the lack of food, instead of helping us, the queen made us suffer more, and I will not stand that the descendant of that queen is intervening with our business."

Whispers started to echo, but Cregan quickly spoke. "In your last words, you still lie. You spoke with the south, you indulge yourselves with them as your people starve, and last I heard uncle, you told us that the less mouths to feed, the better, so don't speak as if you care about the smallfolk."

Bennard didn't say anything, instead, it was Maegor who spoke. "I wonder, Lord Bennard. Runestone and the North traded years ago. Wagons of dried meat and wool have been sent to Winterfell, yet I see no improvement on the smallfolk whatsoever, the people still starve. Where does all that meat and wool go?"

Again, Bennard didn't say anything.

Maegor just sighed at the sight. He drew his sword, and nailed it to the ground. "In the name of Viserys of House Targaryen, first of his name, king of the andals and the first men, lord of the seven kingdoms, and protector of the realm… I, Maegor Targaryen of House Royce, Lord of Runestone, sentence you to die."

Suddenly, a roar echoed throughout the sky, and the traitors turned towards it. Vermithor was coming, he landed atop the castle of Winterfell, growling ever menacingly.

"What are you doing?" Bennard asked with fear in his eyes.

Maegor didn't say anything to him, instead, he spoke a command.

[Dracarys.]

"No, wait!"

A stream of bronze fire pierced through the cold air, towards the flock of traitors that was tied on the ground. The fire burned them, piercing screams echoed throughout the castle, the snow melted, the ground charred, and when all is said and done, no remains could be recovered.

Some courtiers just looked at the sight in shock, the remains of the traitor were nowhere to be found, yet lord Cregan Stark said nothing, he just stood there, staring at the charred ground.

"Clean the dust and black remains." said Cregan calmly as he sheathed Ice to its scabbard. "Prepare a feast, there will be no funeral, only a wedding."

Maegor just stared at Cregan in confusion. "A wedding?"

—

Maegor stood just at the outskirts of Winterfell, with Vermithor waiting for him in the distance. Cregan was with him, wearing his Stark cloak, and there is another individual, lady Arra Norrey, but she, along with Cregan, was wearing a Stark cloak also.

"Must you leave so quickly?" asked Cregan in annoyance. "I just got married for fuck's sake."

"Duty calls." Maegor hummed. "Besides, I don't want to hear what you will do inside your chambers."

Cregan laughed. "It's not like you've never heard of it before. Remember that whore from Winter Town?"

"I don't want to remember." Maegor sighed. "Anyway, I guess this is farewell for now, friend."

"Indeed." Cregan nodded as he shook Maegor's hand. "Thank you."

Maegor hummed, but then, he pulled Cregan to a hug, and he whispered to him. "The threat of war looms. Prepare as much as you can."

Cregan just frowned at the words. "The north will heed your call, if the need arises."

Maegor just nodded. "Next time we meet, I hope to see your son or daughter."

Cregan raised his brow. "Planning to see a betrothal already?"

"Who knows." Maegor said as he walked towards Vermithor, and he flew away from the place, leaving the newly wed couple alone.