Chapter 10 : Old Bonds

A friend

Wolfswood

After all those years of wandering in the North, he finally felt like himself again, with the world growing darker. Ultimately, he gave up and went to sleep near a weirwood. Then he woke up and felt a hint of an old bond. He even howled, something he had never done before.

For three years, he had roamed the lands of winter. When he felt a familiar bond drawing nearer, he was spurred southward. He also found a companion, someone he had been searching for. She was wild like one of his sisters from old, but she also had a grace his sister didn't possess. Then he felt a connection with her as they went South, knowing that young ones were growing inside her. He could hear their little heartbeats, which made him happy and reminded him of the joy he once felt when all his siblings were together.

He stalked through the dense underbrush of the Wolfswood, his white fur filled with dirt that helped him blend into the landscape. His senses were alert, his keen nose catching every scent, his sharp ears tuned to every sound. This was his territory, and he guarded it vigilantly. A faint growl rumbled deep within him as he detected an unfamiliar, unsettling odor in the crisp winter air. It was a smell he did not like, a scent that intruded upon his solitude. He moved silently, his paws barely making a sound as he stalked through the ancient trees.

Suddenly, the distant sound of approaching riders reached his sensitive ears. His hackles rose, and he tensed, his eyes narrowing as he prepared to confront the intruders. They were encroaching upon his territory, and he would not allow it.

But then, amidst the clamor of the riders, there was something else—a familiar presence, a connection that had been dormant for far too long. It was Jon, his bonded companion. The bond between them surged to life, strong and undeniable. His heart leaped with joy and recognition.

With newfound purpose, he bounded forward, his powerful muscles propelling him through the forest. He followed the bond, his senses guiding him unerringly toward Jon. In a small clearing, he found him there—a man he had missed deeply, standing tall and strong.

But before Jon stood a massive black bear, its fur glistening in the winter sunlight. The bear reared up on its hind legs, roaring in fury, its eyes fixed on Jon. He knew he had to act swiftly.

"Ghost!" Jon said, in awe, after he laughed onto the bear's back. His teeth sunk into the fur and flesh, tasting blood. The bear roared in anger, as did another one he hadn't heard before.

With the bear distracted, Jon charged with his broken hunting spear and speared the bear in the belly. The bear roared loudly as it thrashed around, swiping with its paws. It fell back as it tried to remove the spear that was inside it. He fell off it and charged again, biting down on its neck. His old companion removed a dagger and planted it in the bear's eye as he held it down.

They collapsed, both exhausted and full of stress. Then he looked at his old companion, his friend, his father. He laughed at him, licking his face and covering his friend with blood. He didn't care. They were together again.

Balerion

Seadragon Point – Dragon Caves

He awoke with a jolt, sensing panic in his bond, a fear that his rider, Aemon, was in danger. With a thunderous roar, he roused his mate, most likely in the caves where he and Vhagar had made their lair, and Dreamfyre had recently joined them.

"Aemon, where are you?!" He roared, taking to the skies quickly, feeling the urgency of his rider's peril. He flew towards the source of distress, leading him to the Wolfswood, where he occasionally visited to hunt for moose and elk.

"Aemon!" He roared again, but his bond eluded him. However, he sensed Aemon's location and sought him out. His eyes scanned the area as he picked up the scent of his rider. He attempted to reestablish their connection but only received a mix of fear and happiness. It puzzled him; why were these emotions intertwined?

Then, he spotted Aemon, locked in combat with a white and black beast. He descended, preparing to breathe fire and protect his rider from this threat. As he approached, he realized there were two creatures, one of which had clamped its teeth onto the bear's neck, he realized. Then, in a swift motion, Aemon stabbed the bear in the eye.

Relief washed over him as the bear collapsed. But then he was stunned when the white creature pounced on Aemon. He roared loudly as he landed, attempting to scare the creature away from Aemon. However, he heard laughter, and as he reached out to their bond, he sensed happiness and love.

"Aemon?" He inquired once more. "Everything is alright, Balerion," Aemon reassured him, through their bont before continuing. "This is Ghost, my friend, I told you about. It seems the gods have granted me another gift." Aemon continued, rubbing Ghost's white fur. "Is this Ghost? But I thought you and your mother were the only ones who returned, right?" He asked, his confusion evident.

"I suppose not," Aemon replied. "But with Ghost, I feel the bond as strong as ever. He insists we follow him. There is urgent business at hand." Aemon pointed to Ghost, and they followed the direwolf into the woods.

Aemon Targaryen (104 A.C.)

Wolfwood

Ghost was back, and it felt like old times. His friend had saved his life from a bear, and he had ridden off to follow his prey alone. But something else had pulled him in that direction, leading him away from the boar he was tracking. Instead, he stumbled upon a bear in the middle of its meal, and a quick movement spared his face from its claws but cost him a wound on his right arm.

His spear was broken, and he had no escape, but a low growl caught his attention. He turned to see a large white direwolf with red eyes that he recognized as his bond with Ghost. Ghost had launched himself onto the bear's back, and he seized the opportunity to pick up the broken spear and thrust it into its gut. The bear didn't die but threw Ghost off in its pain and panic. Ghost narrowly avoided getting his head swiped as he leaped back, then pounced on the bear's neck, holding it down. He charged the bear and planted his dagger in its head.

The bear fell, a lifeless heap with blood covering both combatants. "Ghost," he murmured, and the large wolf jumped on him, licking his face and covering him in blood. After a moment of joy, Balerion landed nearby; he had sensed Ghost but couldn't connect with him. When he explained to the giant dragon who Ghost was, Balerion gave him a puzzled look, which he found quite amusing.

Afterward, his bond with Ghost was a mix of excitement and apprehension, and Ghost signaled him to follow. He promised to return for the bear's kill and set off on a short walk, reaching a small rock formation with bones scattered around it. It appeared to be Ghost's lair, and he followed Ghost through an opening.

"Balerion, I'm fine. You can go home again. Ghost will protect me," he reassured the dragon.

"No, I'll stay until you leave. I landed a few hundred meters away. There's a small clearing up ahead," Balerion responded.

"Alright, my friend. I'll see you soon," he said as he ventured deeper into the rock formation. 'The smell wasn't pleasant, a mix of blood and rotting meat, but what else could he expect from a wolf's lair?' He thought as he entered it.

As he continued through the cave, a small opening allowed rays of sunlight to filter in. Ghost was there, licking another direwolf. She was Ghost's mate, a she-wolf of black and grey, heavily pregnant, and his heart filled with happiness.

"May I?" he asked Ghost, stroking the she-wolf's head. She wagged her tail in response. "Good girl," he praised, turning his gaze to Ghost. "And you too, but you're going to be a dad." He said as he stroked the large direwolves head.

'Four pups were born not long after – two females and two males. One was all white with a black spot around one eye, one was grey with white streaks, another was all black, and the last was brown with grey markings. All beautiful pups and he realized that the Starks would have direwolves once again. It was a curious thought, considering it hadn't happened before.' He wondered as he looked at all the pups snuggling against their mother.

Soon, the howls of direwolves would echo through the North once more.

Lyanna Stark (104 A.C.)

Seadragon Point – Outer wall

'She hadn't joined the hunt, but now she was regretting it. The roar of Balerion and the sight of the dragon flying off to the Wolfswood had left her uneasy. Balerion would only rage like that if his rider were in danger. She waited for the dragon to return without her son, relieved that he wasn't hurt or in danger. Balerion would have brought him back, or the Wolfswood would have been reduced to ashes in his fury if her son had been harmed.' She thought as she stood looking out on the fields and the Wolfswood ahead.

'She was anxious to know what had happened to her son, and the townspeople shared her concern. She had seen how the people admired her son. Over the past year, he had grown as a person, transitioning from a bastard with no place in Winterfell to a prince admired by many. His little sister adored him, as did his cousins, and his uncle and aunt were strong supporters of her son. She had high hopes for the future, with Sea Dragon Point and the strength of Balerion increasing their prospects, offering a more protected North from the Ironborn and an additional port for trade during harsh winters when crops failed. It was also a perfect place for Aemon to study and perfect his learning in the arts of Valyria. Away from the capital, it was already a great boon for the fight against upcoming darkness in the North that those crafts were rediscovered.

Now, only the Dance of Dragons was to be avoided, or at least prevent the carnage from turning into annihilation. Yet the warnings to Viserys about heirs would fall on deaf ears, and the pressure wasn't good for Aemma. He had spoken to her about dragon dreams before and after being named heir, and he was even more certain about his convictions that he would have an heir. A man who believes in prophecy rarely exercises restraint. Even her old love, Rhaegar, had it; he was convinced their child would be a girl, but it turned out to be a boy. She just hoped that Aemma could live on and support her daughter and the family for many more years to come.' She wondered.

When she had received word that her son and his party were returning, her son was mostly unharmed, sporting only a slash on his right arm. But something unusual was with them, and her son had ordered everyone to keep quiet to preserve the surprise. She had walked from the arch above the gate to get a better view of her son when he arrived. The wooden structure of the outer wall was, in contrast to the drakestone walls of Seadragon Holt Keep.

She watched as they approached, her son riding in front, flanked by a giant white wolf on the left and a sled carrying something behind him. Aemon had described the white wolf from his previous life, and she couldn't help but think that the old gods had sent his loyal companion back to protect her son. Yet, something else was a faint bond tugging at her mind.

"Aemon, please tell me you are all right," she asked as she came down from the arch and waited below. Her concern was evident. She inspected her son's bandaged arm. "I'm more than all right, Mother. Come, Ghost, meet my mother," he said, commanding the white wolf to approach. Ghost sniffed her hand and wagged his tail as she petted him.

Another wolf, grey with black streaks, came forward and licked her hand as well. "I thought so," Aemon said, smirking. "There are six wolves in total, Mother. In the sled behind me, there are four pups. It seems she has chosen you." He chuckled.

"Is that true, girl? Are we bonded now? I felt something when you came closer, looking into your eyes. I feel it again. We will be great friends," she said to the she-wolf, scratching her ear. The wolf had beautiful pale blue eyes.

Turning to her son, she inquired, "So, what happened? How did you get wounded?" Aemon explained, "I was attacked by a bear," pointing to the second sled, where a giant bear carcass lay. She pressed further, "How did you get wounded? Harrold and the guards should have been protecting you."

"I rode ahead, Mother. I told them to stay behind. It was a feeling, and I suppose the bond with Ghost drew me away. Then I rode after a boar I found and stumbled onto the bear. I'm not sure what would have happened if Ghost hadn't come to my aid," Aemon admitted, scratching the wolf's neck.

She scolded her son in front of everyone. "Well, never do that again, Aemon. I know you're the prince and can make your own decisions, but don't be reckless." Aemon nodded, reflecting a mixture of humility and determination in his eyes. "I won't, Mother. I promise to be more careful."

With a reassuring smile, she placed a hand on his bandaged arm. "That's all I ask, my dear. Come, let's return. A white wolf and a black dragon, you are balanced now, aren't you? You are truly the song," she said, looking at her son and Ghost.

Visenya Targaryen (104 A.C.)

Seadragon Point – Visenya's chambers

Her life had been joyful as a princess, with the best friends any child could have and the best family. But seeing her mother worried for her brother made her nervous, and it had the same effect on Bennard and her aunt.

Balerion had roared, and it had roused the entire city and keep. Her mother had ordered them to wait in their rooms with the Kingsguard for their safety while she left for the gatehouse that led to the Wolfswood.

After about four hours, Balerion's roar was heard again, and the giant dragon flew towards the dragon caves. She asked her sworn protector, Clement Crabb, "Is my brother back? I saw Balerion flying from outside my window. I want to go see him."

"Me too, I want to see Rick and Aems," four nameday old Bennard proclaimed, crossing his arms over his chest.

"Princess, I have strict orders from your mother not to let you leave your chambers. I'm sorry, but we must wait until we hear more. Let's go to the window and see if they are coming up the road," Clemm argued and gestured toward the window.

"That's so unfair! Why can't I go? I'm almost seven," she pouted in anger. 'But she couldn't do much – her guard wouldn't let her go, and the oathguards, her brother's men, were strictly loyal to him. They wouldn't let her slip past, even though she could if she tried. She had watched them train with Aemon and Laenor, who had greatly improved during their time away. Her brother was older and sterner, and her mother told her he looked much like her father. When she tried to picture her father's face, she always saw Aemon's, even if she had seen pictures of him.

In truth, she saw her father figures in Aemon and her uncle Benjen. Those two were her father figures because she was too young to remember her father when he died: Baelon the Brave and Baelon the Summer Prince.' She wondered if there was another way to slip away.

Yet, knowing there weren't options, she conceded to Clemm. "Fine, Come Bear, we'll watch from the window," she sighed. She watched the street that led to the gate, which led to the Wolfswood in the town of Seafyre, as the smallfolk had started calling it.

After an hour, Bennard fell asleep in the chair beside her, and people started chattering. Words like "White Wolf," "Direwolf," "Northern Prince," and "Blessed by the Old Gods" filled the air. She watched her mother and brother walking towards the keep, and people watched in awe as two giant wolves walked beside them. One was white with blood-red eyes. The other was grey with black streaks and pale blue eyes.

"Direwolves! I can't believe it. They haven't been seen south of the wall for a hundred years," Clemm said from behind her. "Come, your mother would want you to see them." He suggested, and she jumped from the chair, shaking Bennard awake.

"Come, Aemon is back, and they have direwolves with them," she said excitedly, bouncing up and down.

Not much later, both were exhausted from the run they had taken. They arrived at the entrance of the keep. "Muna and Aems," she said as she ran into her brother's arms and realized she was crying. She had been scared for her brother's safety when Balerion had roared and flown towards the Wolfswood in a hurry, and now her fear was pouring out.

"You idiot, I was so scared for you. When Balerion roared towards the Wolfswood in a hurry, I feared you were gone," she said as she cried into her brother's shoulder. "Oh, Vise, it's fine, I'm okay. I met a friend and an angry bear, but it's all right now. I have a present for you and Bennard," he said, and she looked up, her eyes watery from the tears.

"What, a present?" Her curiosity overcame her fear, and she stopped crying. "Come, let's see you too, Bennard," He took her by the hand and led them to a cart drawn by a horse. Inside were four pups; as she looked at them, she knew one would be hers. A life companion, a bond like Dreamfyre, she gazed at the pup with a black spot around one of his eyes, his golden eyes fixed on her.

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