51 AC
Island near Skane
Third Person Pov
The midday sun, a pale disc in the northern sky, cast long shadows across the icy valley. Two moons had passed since the Northmen had first encountered the ice dragons, two moons of tentative interactions that had blossomed into profound connections. The air hummed with a subtle energy, a silent language shared between dragon and rider.
Theon Stark stood at the edge of the frozen lake, the wind whipping strands of his dark hair across his face. Beside him, Saphira, her scales shimmering with an inner blue light, lowered her massive head, her icy gaze fixed on him with an ancient understanding. Jonnos stood nearby, Sylvi at his side, along with Lyrra and Rickard, each with their bonded dragon.
The time draws near for our departure, old friends, Theon projected, his thoughts reaching out to all four dragons. We must return to Winterfell, to our home.
The small ones… they have grown fond of the sky, Saphira observed, a hint of amusement in her mental tone.
Theon smiled, thinking of the joyous flights with Morgan, the awe in Artor's eyes, the quiet wonder of Harrion. They have. And the bond… it stirs within them, I believe.
The blood remembers, Saphira affirmed. It will awaken in its own time.
"There is a place," Theon continued, his thoughts now directed at all the dragons, "a place near Winterfell, a vast lake called Long Lake. It is secluded, surrounded by forests, a place where you can remain hidden and safe. We ask that you move there, to be closer to us, to be protected."
Saphira inclined her massive head, her ancient eyes fixed on Theon. Long Lake, she echoed, the name resonating in his mind. It is far from here.
It is, Theon acknowledged. But it is within our lands, a place we can protect. A place where you will be safe from the eyes of the South, from those who would seek to control you, to use your power for their own ends.
And why should we trust you, little Stark? Saphira projected, a hint of ancient skepticism in her thoughts. Your kind have forgotten us for centuries. Why now, this sudden desire for our presence?
Theon met her gaze steadily, his thoughts filled with sincerity. Because we are Starks. And you are a part of us, a part of our heritage, our strength. We have been… blind, for too long. But we seek to rectify that. We seek to honor the bond that was forged between our ancestors and your kind.
And the others? Saphira asked, her gaze shifting to Jonnos, Lyra, and Rickard. Do they share your conviction?
They do, Theon affirmed. They have felt the power of the bond, the truth of our shared destiny. We are united in this.
Saphira considered his words, her ancient mind weighing the sincerity of his intent. After a long moment, she responded, her thoughts laced with a cautious acceptance. Long Lake… we will consider it. It is a long journey, but if it means safety… if it means a chance to rekindle the ancient pact…
Theon and Saphira continued to communicate, their thoughts weaving together in a silent tapestry of understanding.
The journey will be arduous, Theon projected, concern lacing his thoughts. Are you strong enough? Will the others be able to make the flight?
Saphira responded with a surge of ancient power, a sense of enduring strength that resonated deep within Theon. We are dragons, little Stark. We have flown across continents, weathered storms that would shatter mountains. This journey is but a short flight for us.
And the others? Theon pressed, his gaze sweeping over Sylvi, Greysmoke, and Snowfyre.
They are strong, Saphira assured him. They feel the pull of the North, the call of the blood. They will follow.
Theon, having finished his silent conversation with Saphira, turned away from the frozen lake and made his way back towards the camp. The wolfpack members were already preparing the midday meal, the scent of roasting meat mingling with the crisp, icy air. He found his family gathered near their tent, their faces etched with a mixture of anticipation and concern.
As he approached, Diana stepped forward, her brow furrowed slightly. "What did she say, Theon? Will they come with us?"
Theon met her gaze, a sense of relief and determination in his eyes. "They will," he announced. "Saphira, and the others, have agreed to move to Long Lake. They understand the need for secrecy, the importance of protecting them from the South."
A collective sigh of relief swept through the group. Jonnos nodded, his expression a mixture of satisfaction and caution. "It is a long journey," he said. "But it is the best course of action. Long Lake will provide them with the sanctuary they need."
"And when will they depart?" Lyrra asked, her voice filled with a quiet awe.
"With us," Theon replied. "They will fly alongside us, their shadows hidden by the darkness of the night. We will leave at dusk, when the stars begin to emerge."
Rickard, ever practical, spoke up. "We must ensure that the route is clear, that there are no settlements or travelers who might witness their passage. And we must begin preparing the wards around Long Lake immediately upon our return."
"I have already considered that," Theon assured him. "Jonnos and I will scout ahead, ensuring the path is clear. And I will begin the work on the wards as soon as we arrive at Winterfell. It is a task that will require all our strength and knowledge, but it must be done."
As Theon spoke, the children, who had been listening with rapt attention, began to pepper him with questions. Their initial awe had given way to a childlike curiosity, their minds buzzing with the possibilities of having dragons so close to home.
"Will we see them every day, Father?" Morgan asked, her eyes wide with excitement. "Will they come to Winterfell?"
"Not every day, my little wolf," Theon replied gently. "They will stay at Long Lake, for now. It is a place of peace, where they can be safe. But you will see them, from time to time. We will visit them, and they may even visit us."
Artor, his adventurous spirit ignited by the flight on Saphira, chimed in, "Can we ride them again? "
"You will ride them again," Theon assured him, a smile playing on his lips. "And perhaps, in time. They have much to share, if we are willing to listen."
Harrion, still a bit shy but no less fascinated, asked, "Will they protect us? From the bad things?"
Theon's expression softened as he looked at his youngest son. "Yes, little one," he said. "They will protect us. They are a part of us, now. A part of our strength, our heritage. And they will stand with us, against any darkness that may come."
The children continued to ask questions, their voices filled with wonder and excitement. They wanted to know everything about the dragons - what they ate, where they slept, what their names meant. Theon and the other adults patiently answered their queries, sharing what they had learned about these magnificent creatures.
"Will they sing to us?" Morgan asked, remembering the strange, resonant hum she had felt while riding Saphira.
"Perhaps," Theon replied, his eyes gleaming with a hint of ancient knowledge. "Their voices are not like ours. They speak with the wind, the ice, the very heart of the North. If you listen closely, you may hear them."
As the night deepened, and the children, their minds filled with dragon dreams, finally settled into their tents, the adults gathered around the dwindling campfire. The weight of their responsibilities, the secrets they carried, settled upon them like the cold night air. Theon broke the silence, his voice low and serious.
"We leave at dusk tomorrow," he announced, his gaze sweeping over his family. "We will fly under the cover of darkness, with the dragons leading the way. We must reach Long Lake as quickly and discreetly as possible."
Jonnos nodded, his hand resting on the hilt of his sword. "I will scout ahead, with Sylvi. Ensure the path is clear, that there are no settlements or travelers who might witness our passage."
"And I will begin preparing the wards as soon as we arrive at Winterfell," Theon added. "It is a task that will require all my strength and knowledge, all the ancient magic that still flows within our blood. But it must be done, and it must be done perfectly."
Rickard Karstark, his brow furrowed with concern, spoke up. "The wards… how long will they hold? And how can we be certain they will be strong enough to conceal such… magnificent creatures?"
"The wards will be woven into the very fabric of the land," Theon assured him. "They will be more than just a barrier; they will be a deception, a veil that will make Long Lake seem… unremarkable. Unimportant. A place that travelers will instinctively avoid."
"And the strength?" Lena asked, "We have not practiced the old magic in centuries. Are we truly capable of such a feat?"
"The power is within us," Theon replied, his gaze intense. "It is in our blood, in our bones. We are Starks, descendants of the First Men, the children of the ice and the wind. The magic is there, waiting to be awakened, to be channeled."
Diana, ever practical, added her thoughts. "We must also consider the long term. How long can we keep the dragons hidden? What will happen when the children grow older, when they begin to forge their own paths?"
"We will teach them," Theon said, his voice filled with a quiet determination. "We will teach them the ways of the dragons, the ancient magic, the importance of secrecy and protection. We will prepare them for the day when they must take on this responsibility, when they must become the guardians of the ice dragons."
"And the university?" Lena asked, her expression thoughtful. "Will it not draw attention to the North, to our renewed interest in knowledge and the old ways?"
"It may," Theon conceded. "But it is a risk we must take. The university is not just about knowledge; it is about strength. It is about preparing the North for the future, for whatever challenges may lie ahead."
The conversation continued late into the night, the adults discussing the intricate details of their plans, the potential dangers that lurked in the shadows, and the uncertain future that stretched before them. They spoke of the need for unity, for secrecy, and for the unwavering courage that would be required to protect the dragons and preserve the ancient magic of the North.
As dusk settled over the icy island, painting the sky in hues of violet and deep indigo, the Northmen prepared to depart. The longship, Wolfsbane, was ready, its crew eager to return to the familiar embrace of the North. But tonight, they would not be alone on their journey.
Theon, Diana, Morgan, Artor, and Harrion boarded the Wolfsbane, their faces turned towards the sky. Lyrra and Rickard, along with the other wolfpack members, stood on the shore, watching as Jonnos mounted Sylvi. The ice dragon, her scales shimmering in the fading light, spread her massive wings, a silent promise of the journey ahead.
With a powerful beat of her wings, Sylvi ascended into the darkening sky, Jonnos guiding her with a sure hand. Saphira, Greysmoke, and Snowfyre followed, their movements fluid and graceful against the backdrop of the emerging stars. The sight was both awe-inspiring and humbling, a reminder of the ancient power that now flowed through the veins of the Starks.
Jonnos, riding Sylvi, took the lead, his bond with the dragon guiding him unerringly towards Long Lake. The other three dragons followed, their massive forms casting long shadows against the darkening landscape. The Wolfsbane followed below, a small vessel in the wake of giants, its crew watching the spectacle above with a mixture of wonder and trepidation.
Under the cover of night, the dragons flew, their passage hidden from the eyes of the world. The journey was long and arduous, but the dragons were tireless, their ancient strength carrying them through the darkness. Jonnos, riding Sylvi, maintained a steady pace, guiding his companions towards their new home, towards the secluded sanctuary of Long Lake.