Disclaimer: I do not own A Song of Ice and Fire.

The Ghost of the North

Chapter 1: Aegon I

"Talking"

"Thinking"

(Location: Winterfell)

The feast was coming along quite well inside the Great Hall of Winterfell. Everyone was feasting, laughing, drinking, and were a good time. Northmen sat side by side with men from the army of Aegon the Conqueror and no one had drawn a weapon or tried to attack someone else. And why would they? The War of Conquest was over and King Aegon Targaryen ruled over the Seven Kingdoms.

The king himself sat at the high table at the back of the Great Hall, looking down at all those who feasted. He was a tall man who was broad in the shoulders and his hair was kept short as the beard he wore on his face. The color of his hair was a silver-gold that he shared with his sisters-wives, Rhaenys and Visenya, along with his purple eyes. He caught the eyes of many women, but he was faithful to his sisters. "You have outdone yourself, Lord Stark." He said to the man who sat beside him. "This is quite the feast."

Torrhen Stark, the last King in the North, now Lord of Winterfell and Warden of the North, simply shook his head. "Not at all, your Grace." He replied. "This is only a modest feast." The head of House Stark had all the attributes of a Stark. He was lean and had a long face, with grey eyes and dark brown hair, which he kept short. "We could not, and would not, use all the food we have at our disposal, not even for you."

Aegon frowned slightly at those words. "I might take those words as an insult." He said quietly, seeing what the man would say now.

He bowed his head slightly. "Forgive, King Aegon. But Winter is Coming. And we must always be ready for it." He answered, his voice taking a solemn and quiet voice.

The first king of Westeros sat in silence, letting those words repeat themselves in his minds. They were strange, those words. Most of the houses he had known since his youth or conquered during the war had words that boasted about themselves, praised their achievements, or silently threaten their enemies. But the Starks, the Starks were the only house whose words only spoke of a warning, not from them, but from what came time and time again. "A good reason," He finally said. "I will not hold your words against you, Lord Torrhen."

"Thank you, your Grace. Besides, I had thought that you would and your company would enjoy a simple feast, rather than another ostentatious one." Torrhen said to him, a small smile on his face.

He laughed quietly at that. "That is very true." Once the war had been over and he was anointed by the High Septon in Oldtown, he visited each of the kingdoms he had conquered and feasted within their halls and castles. The North had been the last place he visited. Every Lord Paramount from the South, Loren Lannister, Harlen Tyrell, Ronnel Arryn and his mother Sharra, Edmyn Tully, Vickon Greyjoy, and Argella Durrandon (now Baratheon, as she was married to his brother, Orys) tried to outdo the last, hosting a more extravagant feast. But the feast before him, the one hosted by the Starks, was simplistic and modest. And he enjoyed it.

His eyes wandered over to where Visenya and Rhaenys were sitting. Between the two sat Torrhen's young son, Jon. He silently chuckled as he watched as his sisters talked to the child. Rhaenys found him to be adorable when she first saw him and Visenya, despite what others might think of her, always had a soft spot for children. "Your son seems to enjoy the attention he's getting from my sisters." He commented.

His Warden of the North looked in the same direction, smiling when he saw his son. "Yes. Jon's mother died when he was young. He's only had me and Bran." He looked over to where his bastard brother, Brandon Snow, was speaking to the Hand of the King, Orys Baratheon.

Aegon followed his gaze. "I could legitimize him, if you wish." He offered. It would make the North think highly of him, to legitimize their former king's bastard brother.

Torrhen shook his head again. "No, he would refuse."

He was bewildered by this. "Why would he do such thing?" He would've thought a bastard would've leapt for the chance to be legitimized. His first act as king was to legitimize Orys and allow him to take his mother's name.

"A Snow can go where a Stark can't." The Lord of Winterfell said in answer. "It was something he's told me again and again, ever since we were children. When I became the King in the North, he would always travel my kingdom and tell me what this lord was planning to do or who this lady was betrothed to. It may not have been honorable, but he helped me in ruling the North.

"Hmm, perhaps I can make use of that." King Aegon thought to himself, looking at Brandon Snow. He had first met the man in the Riverlands, when he had been prepared to face the then King in the North on the battlefield. The man came with three maesters to, his surprise and the surprise of his army, negotiate the terms of surrender. The next day, King Torrhen Stark had bent the knee to him. "Why did you bend the knee?" He asked suddenly.

"Your Grace?" Torrhen asked. He was clearly confused and caught off-guard by the question.

"In the Riverlands, why did you bend the knee?" All of the kings he had defeated tried to fight him on the field or from their castles. But the King in the North did neither, he had bent the knee. He had been surprised by the action and he still wanted to know why it happened.

The Lord of Winterfell looked uncomfortable at this question. "Are you commanding me to answer, my king?" He asked.

"I will, if I must." He wanted to know why the North had just surrendered without even a fight.

Torrhen seemed to sag slightly in his seat as he sighed. "We had planned to fight come south to fight in battle. At Moat Cailin, Bran had suggested that he sneak into your camp and kill your dragons. My council and I toyed with the idea, since we all knew how quiet he could be."

"He would've failed in his goal." Aegon assured him. Balerion, Vhagar, and Meraxes would never have been caught off guard like that. They weren't humans, they were dragons.

"Then I shall be glad that he did not go through with. That night, I wrestled with the idea. I went to the godswood to seek guidance from the old gods. And in the godswood of Moat Cailin, he came to me."

"Who is this 'he'?" The king asked his lord.

"The Ghost of the North," He answered with reverence and awe. He sounded like he had stood in the presence of the gods (or something close to it).

"…and who is the Ghost of the North?" Aegon asked. This was the first he had ever heard of this person.

"No one truly knows. Some say that he was the first of the First Men. Others say that he was the father of Bran the Builder while others say he had only raised Bran the Builder. But what everyone agrees on is that he speaks for the old gods and is the last connection to the children of the forest we have." He explained. "He met me in the godswood and told me that Bran's plan to kill your dragons was possible, but it would come at a cost."

He closed his eyes momentarily and then opened them again. "He told me that if the dragons were killed, the army of Aegon Targaryen would fall back and the North would remain independent. But the armies would come again and again. They would constantly harass the North, until it would either submit or be destroyed. But either way, many people would lose their lives."

Aegon just stared at his Warden of the North. He could see that happen. If the dragons had been killed, they would've fallen back. But they would've come again to take the North, with or without dragons. How could he claim to be the ruler of Westeros when two of its kingdoms would not serve him? "And was that the reason you bent the knee?" He asked.

"No. He told me that if I didn't kill the dragons and I bent the knee, I would lose my crown. But the North would be safe. He left me there, with those two choices, and a question. Which was more important: my crown or my people?" Torrhen finished.

"And so, you choose your people." The new king of Westeros said in reply. What the Lord of Winterfell said next was in another tongue, a harsh, guttural language. "…What is that language and what did you just say?"

"It is the Old Tongue." He answered. "And what I had just said essentially translates to 'the king and the land are one.' It was one of the commandments hand down to the First Men from the children of the forest. It is true that not many kings had seen it as such, but the Starks have always held true to it. And the Ghost reminded me of it that night."

"I see." He stared out at the feast, seeing all the men from different lands feast with one another. "I would like to meet this Ghost. Can you send for him?"

Torrhen looked like he had just said something that was unbelievable. "F-forgive me, my king, but do you jape?" He asked, fear and worry filling his voice.

"I do not. I would see this Ghost of the North before I leave." It was a simple request, one he was sure the Lord of Winterfell could fulfil.

"King Aegon, no one sends for the Ghost. He sends for them. And it is always wise to obey his command." The head of House Stark told him.

If he didn't see the serious look on his face, the king of Westeros would've thought he was the one who was japing. But Torrhen wasn't. His long face and grey eyes spoke of his seriousness. But before he could say anything in response, the howl of a wolf echoed throughout the Great Hall. It was a chilling sound, one that seemed to go straight his bones. As he listened, he realized that he had unconsciously reached for Blackfyre. He saw that Visenya had reached for Dark Sister as well. The howl of the wolf faded away, but the feast did not continue. Instead, every Northmen looked to the doors. "What is…?" He began to ask, only to stop when the doors opened, the sound resounding throughout the Great Hall.

What entered was not a man, as he had been expecting, nor a woman. It wasn't even human. What entered the Great Hall of Winterfell was a direwolf. Its fur was as white as the snow of winter and its eyes were as red as blood, marking him as an albino. But underneath its white fur, Aegon could see the muscles it had and knew that they contained strength. As he watched the creature, he could think of one thing to describe it. "Magnificent." He and his sisters might ride dragons, who rule the sky. But even he would admit that the direwolf before him was a lord of the wilds.

The direwolf padded towards the high table, ignoring all the gazes upon it. No one dared to say a word, they just watched in silence. When it finally stopped, it looked at Torrhen, staring at him intently. Then it looked at Aegon, Rhaenys, Visenya, and Orys, its eyes staring at them for a long moment. Then it turned and left. No one had said a word during the entire thing. Torrhen stood up from where he sat. "King Argon, please follow me." He said to his king as he walked around the table to stand before it.

"Should I come?" Brandon Snow asked his brother, standing up from his seat as well. All eyes in the Great Hall were now on the high table.

He shook his head. "You know he doesn't want to see you, Bran." He replied quietly. "Could you please take Jon to bed?"

His bastard brother nodded once in acknowledgement. He walked over to where Jon was sitting. "Come on, pup, time for sleep." He declared, taking the child up into his arms. Together, the two of them left the Great Hall. Jon was already dozing off on his shoulder.

Torrhen watched them go in silence. Then he realized that his new king was still sitting in his chair. "Please, your Grace, we must go. But before we do, I must ask that you leave your crown and Blackfyre behind." He looked over at Orys and Visenya. "I must also ask that you do the same with the badge of your rank, Lord Orys, and Dark Sister with you, Queen Visenya."

"What makes you think that we will do such things?" Visenya asked him, quiet fury filling her voice. The only time Dark Sister was not by her side was when she was asleep, and even then it was close by.

He held her gaze. "When you meet, he will not meet the wielder of Dark Sister, my queen. You must meet him as Visenya, no one else." He looked to her husband and brother. "And you must do the same, your Grace. You must not meet him as Aegon, king of Westeros, or as Aegon, wielder of Blackfyre. You must meet him as just Aegon."

"Who is this person you speak of?" His king asked of him.

He looked at the man who conquered most of Westeros. "The Ghost of the North has commanded you to come to him, where the gods can see." His voice echoed throughout the Great Hall. "Please, we must follow." He turned and began to walk down the length of the Great Hall.

Aegon looked to his brother and his sisters. "They are waiting for me to make the decision." He realized in silence. He reached up and took his crown, a simple circlet of Valyrian steel with big rubies that had been cut into squares, off of his head, placing it on the table. Blackfyre lay against his chair and he left it there as he followed his Warden of the North. Behind him, he could the others getting up from their chairs and following him. They left the Great Hall, walking through Winterfell in the dead of night.

When they entered the godswood, he felt…something wash over him. In the dark of the night, the godswood looked foreboding, shadows leaping and dancing in the dark as they passed. Soon, they came upon the weirwood tree, its blood-red leaves hanging over the trunk that was the color of bone. In front of the tree was a pool that looked like it was the entryway to a bottomless pit. The face on the tree was one of melancholy, its eyes red with dried sap. And sitting beneath the face, was someone.

When he first heard about the Ghost of the North, Aegon did not know what would be the kind of person the Ghost would be. An image of a strong Northman came to mind. So did the image of a wise maester, learned and knowledgeable. But instead, he saw a cloaked man who was covered in dirt. "So you've brought them then, Torrhen?" The cloaked man said. His voice was a rusty growl. He was missing a few teeth and they could barely see his eyes under his hood.

"Yes, I have." Torrhen answered him, quiet and respectful.

He looked over at Aegon. "Well, are you just going to stand there?" He asked the king of Westeros. "Get your ass over here!" He pointed to a spot in front of him.

Aegon and his family were taken aback by his crude way of talking. "Watch your tongue, cur!" Visenya barked at him. "You speak to your king!" She had unconsciously reached for Dark Sister, only to stop when she remembered that she wasn't carrying it.

The Ghost turned his gaze onto her. "Only the very arrogant have dared to call them my king, usually forgetting that I've been around long before they were pushed out of their screaming mothers. And they usually remember quickly enough." His gaze turned to her husband and brother. "Are you such a king, Aegon, son of Aerion, King of the Seven Kingdoms?" Before the king could even speak, he continued. "Oh, wait. It's not the Seven Kingdoms. You have not conquered Dorne."

Aegon did not need to look to see the furious scowl that appeared on his sister's face. Dorne was a something of a foul memory to Rhaenys. "We are not here to discuss the outcomes of the war." He said, intervening before Rhaenys did something they would later regret. "We are here because you commanded us to come. Why?"

The cloaked man stared at him with those hidden eyes. "I wanted to see the man who would now rule the North and ask him a question: why did you conquer Westeros?"

He already knew the answer. "I saw something in Westeros. I saw the possibility of it becoming great in the world. And yet, that possibility was marred by the constant fighting between the Seven Kingdoms. Westeros needed a strong leader to bind it together. They needed someone who could unite them. And I am that someone."

Instead of being impressed by what he said (as he had expected), the Ghost of the North just laughed. When he laughed, the rust in his voice seemed to sharpen. When he was done laughing, he spat a glob out of his mouth. "Pretty little speech, did you tell it to the High Septon in Oldtown?" He asked, surprising Aegon. "But we both know that's not why the war happened. Now, tell me. Why did you conquer Westeros?"

The king of Westeros could feel those hidden eyes staring into his soul, waiting for the right answer. And he knew that what he had just said was not the right answer. It may have been the answer the High Septon accepted, as well as the lords and kings he had conquered. But it was not the true reason he had conquered Westeros. And the cloaked, dirty man wanted his actual answer. "Because I could," He said, admitting to the truth. "But there was another reason as well. What I told the High Septon was the truth as well."

"You wished to rid Westeros of the game of thrones, is that it?" The Ghost laughed again. "You're a fool if you think it would've been that easy."

"And why would he be foolish for such a noble goal?" Orys challenged him. He was never one to let his brother suffer insults.

"Noble, but also stupid, very stupid," He replied, reaching out with one hand and grabbing a small handful of rocks. "Before you and your dragons had come, the game was like this." He tossed the rocks into the pool. The ripples where the rocks landed crashed against one another, traveling outward and always trying to overwhelm the other. "Now, it is like this." Before their very eyes, he seemed to wrench a piece of the earth out and throw it into the pool. The splash it made was big and the ripples it created overrode the others, claiming all of the pool as its own. "The game isn't gone. You've just changed the rules." He told Aegon. "Once, there were many thrones. Now, there's only one and everyone who has ambition will want to sit their ass on it."

"So be it." The king of Westeros replied firmly. "If that has happened, then I will not try to make it any different. The game has changed, very well. The choices have been made, there's nothing we can do about them anymore. I will live with them for the rest of my life." That was an oath he intended to take seriously.

And while Torrhen and his brother and sisters looked at him with respect, the Ghost didn't seem to be impressed. "Bold words, but do you plan to back them? Or will you let them fall to the ground when they no longer suit you?" He asked.

Aegon frowned when he heard those words. "A king who sits easy with the choices he's made, both good and bad, is not a real king or even a good king." He declared to the Ghost. "A king should never sit easy. A good king acknowledges the mistakes he will make and with live with the consequences."

The Ghost of the North said nothing in response, at first. He rose from where he had been sitting and looked the king of Westeros in the eyes. "Kneel." He ordered the man.

While his family was confused by what the cloaked man said, the head of House Targaryen could see that his Warden of the North knew what was going to happen. And he knew as well. "I have already been anointed by the High Septon in the light of the Seven." He told the Ghost.

The man spat off to the side, like what he had just heard had filled his mouth with something vile. "You knelt before foreign gods who had their followers invade this land and destroy the weirwoods, kill the children, end the Pact. But while the South might now beholden to these gods, they are not the only gods in the land. Now, you will kneel before the true gods of Westeros and accept the oaths every King in the North has accepted long before your family came here. Kneel." He repeated his order.

Aegon did as he was ordered and bent the knee to the Ghost of the North. He felt the hands of the cloaked man grabbed hold of his head. It was a firm, but gentle grip, like how a mother would their child. "You wish to become the king of this land?" The Ghost asked him.

"Yes, that is my wish." He answered.

"Do you swear to rule this land well?"

"Yes, I do swear."

"Do you swear to treat and judge all those who follow you fairly and justly?"

"Yes, I do swear."

"Do you swear to protect all those who will look to you to be their shield?" It seemed that as he spoke, the Ghost's voice went through a gradual transformation, becoming rich rather than rusty.

"Yes, I do swear."

"Do you swear to govern this land as you would govern yourself?"

"I do swear, for the king and the land are one." He didn't know why he added those last words. He just remembered his conversation with Torrhen and they seemed appropriate.

The wind blew through the godswood and the leaves on the weirwood tree rustled with the wind. "The gods have heard your oaths and accept them. Rise, Aegon of House Targaryen, the First of His Name, King of the Andal and the First Men, Lord of the Seven Kingdoms, and Protector of the Realm." As the king felt the hands leave his head and rose from his knees, the Ghost continued. "But although they have accepted your oaths, the gods also charge you with a task for you and your descendants."

"What's that?" Aegon asked. He briefly wondered if this was just another man who was using the gods to further his own goals.

The cloaked man reached out and plucked a nut from the weirwood tree. "You will take this seed back with you to the capital you are building." He said to the king of Westeros, holding the nut out in his palm. "You will plant it in your godswood. You and your descendants will care for it and nurture it. So long as you do, your dynasty will rule Westeros."

Aegon reached out and took the nut without any hesitation. "I accept the charge." He told the Ghost.

"Good. But also be warned, King Aegon." The cloaked man said, his eyes staring straight into the king's eyes, the richness in his voice going back to rust. "If you should ever break the oaths you've just sworn, just as the North has made you, it can unmake you just as quickly."

Before he, his sisters, or Orys could demand an explanation, they heard a familiar roar coming outside of Winterfell. It was one of the dragons, crying for all to hear. The four of them quickly ran out of the godswood and towards the Hunter's Gate, where they had landed the dragons and left them there. When they came upon them, they could see that the dragons were restless and angry at something. They looked like they were about to burn everything in their sight to the ground.

"Balerion, what is the matter with—?" Aegon began to demand, only to stop when he saw something that he never would've thought would happen. Balerion, who men had called the Black Dread, turn his head and snarled at his rider. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Meraxes and Vhagar do the same to their own riders, his sisters and wives. The three of them took a step back, surprised by what their dragons had just done. Never before had they acted like that, not to them.

"This will be the consequence if you break your oaths, Aegon, son of Aerion, King of Westeros." The Ghost of the North said from behind them. The four of them turned to see him standing at the Hunter's Gate, Torrhen by his side. The former King in the North stayed where he was when the Ghost walked forward. The cloaked man's stride took past Aegon and his family and to the dragons. But the dragons themselves did not try to eat, burn, or kill him. Instead, they all stood before him with not a single tooth snarled at him. He looked at them for a long second and then waved his hand wide. With that gesture, the dragons took flight and went up into the air. "You and your family could've and did take Westeros with dragons." He said to the king, his queens, and his Hand. "I can and will take your dragons from you."

End

Author's note: Thank you for all the reviews you've sent me.

This story has been bouncing around my head ever since I read the books and the wiki. Finally, I just had to put it down in wording. Now, let me be clear, this will not be a part of the plan I already devised. This is more of a leisure project, so it will take more time to upload then the others stories.

Also, this story will not be consistent at first. I will be jumping through the years a bit with each chapter. However, those will get shorter when I get closer to the canon timeline.

Yes, I will be changing some things in the continuity. I've gone 300 years back, why wouldn't I change some things? However, some things will stay the same. I will be going with a few theories I've found on the wiki, so bear with me.

And before any of you can start wondering or even ask me, the Ghost of the North is not an OC. But I will not be telling you who he is. That will come at the end of the story.

I'll see you all next chapter!