The Dragon And The Wolf

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Cregan POV

A month after the dragon prince left Winterfell, the young warden of the North had finally made it to King's Landing.

It took him about a fortnight to settle matters with his steward and he left his aunt Lyra and uncle Uhtred as castellans until his return. The seven year old twins Sara and Benjen had asked their parents to join him south but were refused. They still believed in fanciful tales of knightly heroics and glorious tourneys. He hoped they don't lose their light, children of summer that they are. But he doubted it.

He debated on whether or not to take his direwolf Ragnar with him. The crystal blue eyed beast with white fur had gotten larger than his horse. He had been hunting in the wilderness for weeks. Keeping his own council on when to return and leave. In the end he opted for going with his living house sigil to the Dragon's den. His loneliness triumphed over any guilt he felt.

He said goodbye to his household and took to the rode to White Harbor with Bran and Ned.

Lord Wyber Manderly welcomed their party with a seven course meal. He still apologized for not preparing an adequate banquet as he wasn't notified of their coming.

On the morrow, Lord Wyber's heir Wyman lead them to the Manderly flagship the Sea Wolf. Lord Stark must impress the royal family and come from a position of strength, the fat merman advised.

He graciously accepted and left in a hurry lest Manderly think to invite himself along and act as his personal herald in court.

The trip went smoothly thank the Gods. Every day spent south of the Neck he could feel his body literally melting. If he ever marches away from his home again he's a madman who deserves to be sacrificed to the weirwood trees.

When they arrived at the docks he met with a dozen armed men, Hightower knights and gold clocks. His honor guard.

Do all visiting lords get strapped with an armed escort? If it was a scare tactic it's a poor one. The heat is unbearable but he could kill those men before turning into a puddle. And Ragnar has felt anxious for live prey on board the ship.

Neither wolf acted on their base instincts.

Supplied with fresh horses, Cregan and his retinue followed their escort to the Red Keep at the zenith of Aegon's Hill.

Winterfell is bigger.

He climbed down his horse and entered the courtyard. The royals were expecting him.

He bathed and groomed himself a bit this morning when they saw that they were nearing land. But he had been riding for an hour under a merciless sun. So he can't have smelled that great.

He hoped to finish the introductions as quickly as possible without offending anyone. If he's done the curtesy of being provided ice cold water, he'll sing the Targaryens' praises for years to come.

"Lord Stark, it's good to see you again."

"Likewise my prince." The one-eyed prince had become a somewhat friend during his brief but memorable stay in Winterfell.

"May I intorduce her grace the Queen, Alicent Hightower. My sister the Princess Helaena. My brother the prince Aegon. And my grandsire the Lord Hand, Ser Otto Hightower."

Aemond had pointed at the person he was mentioning, with an nigh imperceptible shift in tone for each of them. He noticed all the same. The Hand with begrudging respect. The Queen and the Princess with love and high regard. The elder prince with resentment. Though the latter made no effort to help his case. His eyes a bit dilated and a disinterested demeanor. He's drunk. Wonderful.

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