Lucerys and Rhaena’s wedding was six weeks away when the raven arrived from the Wall.
Until that morning, the Red Keep had been occupied by the ordinary difficulties of preparing another royal marriage. Tailors argued over Velaryon silver and Targaryen red, the kitchens demanded final numbers no lord could provide honestly, and Lyman had begun treating every request for additional coin as a personal attack upon the treasury.
Rhaenys wanted Driftmark represented with sufficient dignity, while Luke continued insisting that a smaller ceremony remained possible despite the hundreds of guests already travelling towards King’s Landing.
Rhaena divided her time between the capital and Driftmark. She had taken greater control of the preparations than Luke expected, not because she desired extravagance, but because she understood that refusing to decide only allowed stewards and courtiers to decide for her.
She rejected several suggestions intended to transform the wedding into a second celebration of Jace’s succession and insisted that House Velaryon’s place within the ceremony be recognised without making the day a memorial for everyone the family had lost.
Luke agreed with her in principle and discovered that agreement did not reduce the number of decisions requiring his presence. He came to our solar one morning carrying three cloth samples and the expression of a prince who had begun to understand why men sometimes preferred battle.
"Rhaena has asked me to choose between these," he said, placing the folded fabrics upon the table. "I have examined them several times and remain convinced that two are the same colour."
Rhaenyra lifted the first piece and held it against the light. "One is pearl-grey. The other is sea-silver."
"They are both grey."
"They are not."
Luke looked towards me for support. "Father, you have commanded armies and judged distances from dragonback. Surely you can confirm that these are nearly identical."
"I have survived marriage long enough to recognise when neutrality offers the safest path."
Rhaenyra gave me a knowing look. "Neutrality would have been remaining silent."
"I was attempting to warn him through example."
Luke sat opposite us and examined the third cloth, which was darker and carried a faint blue beneath the silver. "Rhaena prefers this one, but she asked for my judgement because she does not want the entire ceremony decided by Driftmark."
"Then tell her you prefer it," Rhaenyra said.
"I do prefer it. I am concerned that choosing her preferred cloth too quickly will sound as though I did not consider the others."
"Tell her you considered them and still prefer this one."
Luke frowned at the simplicity of the answer. "That seems suspiciously direct for a royal marriage."
"It is a habit worth developing before the vows."
He folded the darker cloth and set the others aside. Despite his complaints, he appeared happy. The prospect of the wedding no longer carried the uncertainty that surrounded Jace’s marriage after Baela’s death.
Luke and Rhaena had known for years that their lives might eventually be joined, and the approaching ceremony had given them reason to examine that expectation rather than merely submit to it.
They had done so willingly. That made the interruptions of court easier to endure.
The raven arrived before Luke left.
A guard entered carrying a sealed message upon a narrow wooden tray. The black wax bore no sigil of a great house, only the simple mark used by the Night’s Watch. The strip of parchment tied beneath it carried the words urgent royal consideration in a hand made uneven by haste.
Rhaenyra’s attention shifted immediately. "Who brought it?"
"A raven from Castle Black reached the rookery shortly after dawn, Your Grace. Grand Maester Orwyle requested that it be delivered without delay."
Luke looked towards the message. "Has something happened at the Wall?"
"We are about to learn."
Rhaenyra broke the seal and began reading. The faint ease left her face before she reached the end of the first page. She continued through a second sheet, then passed both to me without comment.
The report came from Lord Commander Eckard Bolton.
Scouts operating west of the Wall had observed a vast movement of free folk through the haunted forest and along the valleys leading towards the Shadow Tower. Multiple clans had gathered beneath a single leader, a woman calling herself Queen Hilvi.
The Lord Commander’s most cautious estimate placed the host above fifty thousand. Other scouts claimed it numbered seventy thousand, including fighting men, women, children, herds, wagons, and enough armed raiders to overwhelm the castles if they reached the Wall together.
The army was not dispersing. It was approaching the Shadow Tower.
Several ranging parties had failed to return. Fires could be seen from high positions on clear nights. Captured scouts claimed Hilvi had united clans that spent generations killing one another and promised them passage south whether the kneelers opened the Wall willingly or died defending it.
The Night’s Watch did not have the men to resist a concentrated assault of that size. Lord Commander Bolton requested immediate royal aid.
Luke had risen while I read. "How many men does the Watch possess?"
"The letter gives fewer than two thousand fit for battle across every occupied castle," I said. "The Shadow Tower cannot hold seventy thousand with its present garrison."
"Can the wildlings truly have gathered that many?"
"The number may include families and people incapable of fighting, but even half the estimate would be dangerous."
Rhaenyra took the report back and reread one of the final passages. "Bolton states that the wildlings possess ladders, ropes, timber frames, and men who claim to know hidden paths through the mountains. This is not a mass of frightened people wandering south. Someone has organised them."
"Or frightened people have become organised because whatever lies behind them appears worse than the Wall," I replied.
Luke looked towards me. "You believe they are fleeing something?"
"Seventy thousand people do not abandon their homes for one reason. Hilvi may seek conquest, refuge, or both. The dead rarely ask which motive guided the man who broke through their gate."
Rhaenyra moved towards the bell cord. "The Small Council must assemble immediately."
Luke remained where he stood. "My wedding preparations can wait. If you require me to fly north, Arrax and I can be ready before noon."
"You will do nothing until the council has heard the full report," Rhaenyra said. Her voice was firm without dismissing the offer. "You are six weeks from your wedding, and we do not yet know whether sending another dragon serves any purpose beyond giving me another son to fear for."
"I am still a dragonrider."
"So are several members of this family. That does not mean we empty the Dragonpit every time a raven carries danger."
I folded the report and placed it beside the abandoned cloth samples.
"You should speak with Rhaena before offering to leave for war again."
Luke’s jaw tightened. "The realm cannot arrange threats around our wedding."
"No, but marriage requires recognising that your risks no longer belong only to you. The same is true before the ceremony if you expect her to trust you after it."
He considered the rebuke and accepted it more calmly than he might have a year earlier. "Then I will speak to her. I will still come if the council decides I am needed."
"You may attend the council," Rhaenyra said. "The decision will be made after we know what help can reach the Shadow Tower in time."
The council chamber filled within the hour.
Vaeron arrived carrying maps of the North, though his knowledge of the Wall came from records rather than experience. Lyman brought the latest figures concerning royal ships and stored grain.
Grand Maester Orwyle carried older reports from Castle Black, including garrison numbers and notes on the condition of the western forts. Beesbury attended with treasury accounts, while Lorent Marbrand represented the Queensguard and the military household.
Jace came with Sara.
Her pregnancy was no longer a secret within the family, though it had not yet been announced formally to the court. She showed no outward change beyond a greater tendency to tire, but Jace watched her whenever she moved as though standing too quickly might become a military emergency. Sara tolerated the attention when it remained quiet and corrected him when it did not.
Rhaenyra read Lord Commander Bolton’s letter aloud.
No one interrupted until she finished. Lyman examined the map. "Seventy thousand is a convenient number for men requesting aid. Large enough to create urgency, rounded enough to resist verification."
"Bolton gives a lower estimate as well," Vaeron said. "Even if only twenty thousand can fight, the Watch cannot contain them at the Shadow Tower without reinforcement."
"The western approach makes reinforcement difficult," Lorent added. "Castle Black is reached more easily by the Kingsroad. Moving an army towards the Shadow Tower requires additional time through northern lands or by sea to the western coast."
Tyland tapped the map near the Bay of Ice. "Ships could carry men and supplies north, but no fleet is prepared to move tomorrow. The western harbours are limited, and winter waters will punish any captain who treats them as the Blackwater."
"How quickly can Cregan Stark respond?" Rhaenyra asked.
Sara answered before the councillors began speculating. "Winterfell can call banners quickly, but gathering them is another matter. The North is vast, and many houses have only recently received their men back from the southern war. Cregan will march if the Wall is threatened, although he cannot place thousands at the Shadow Tower within days."
Jace looked towards her. "White Harbour could send ships."
"To Eastwatch, certainly. Reaching the Shadow Tower from there still requires crossing the length of the Wall."
Vaeron placed one finger upon the western edge of the map. "The Watch requires something that can arrive before a feudal host finishes assembling."
Every gaze turned towards me. Dravvaxx could cross the distance in days rather than weeks. I had already reached the same conclusion before entering the chamber.
Rhaenyra recognised it in my face. "Do not decide before we have finished speaking."
"I have not decided. I have recognised the only aid capable of reaching the Shadow Tower before Hilvi’s army does."
"One dragon cannot hold the entire Wall."
"One dragon can destroy ladders, camps, stored timber, and any concentrated force attempting to climb. More importantly, Dravvaxx can give Bolton time while the North gathers men."
Tyland leaned back. "Dragonfire used against seventy thousand wildlings will not distinguish warriors from families."
"I am aware."
"Then your task is not as simple as burning the host."
"It rarely is."
The thought of tens of thousands moving towards the Wall unsettled me for reasons beyond the military danger. The history I remembered contained a great wildling host under another king, driven south by threats greater than the old quarrels between kneelers and free folk. This was almost two centuries in the future.
Yet the world had changed too greatly for remembered events to function as instructions. Hilvi’s name meant nothing to me. Her army had approached a different part of the Wall, and there had been no mention of this attack in any of George R. R. Martin’s lore.
My future knowledge had become a map after the roads shifted. It still warned me that men beyond the Wall did not always move south merely because they wanted southern lands.
"There may be more behind this migration than Bolton understands," I said. "I will speak to Hilvi before deciding whether her entire host must be destroyed."
Lorent’s expression hardened. "Your Grace, approaching a wildling camp alone would be extraordinarily dangerous."
"I do not intend to walk through its gate without Dravvaxx nearby."
"A spear kills princes as easily as common men if it finds the throat."
"So does remaining behind the Wall while seventy thousand people attack it."
Rhaenyra studied the report. "What aid do you propose beyond yourself?"
"Send ravens to Winterfell, the Dreadfort, White Harbour, Deepwood Motte, and every northern house capable of reaching the western Wall. Cregan should take command of the royal relief on land. The Watch needs grain, arrows, lamp oil, timber, healers, and engineers. Tyland can begin assembling ships, even if they arrive after I do. Vaeron should determine whether men from the Riverlands or Vale can follow once northern routes are secured."
Vaeron nodded. "A larger force moving north will also discourage surviving rebels from imagining the crown has become distracted."
Beesbury examined the supply figures. "The treasury can fund the first movement without another levy. Maintaining an army at the Wall for an entire winter will require greater planning."
"The first purpose is ensuring there remains a Wall to supply," I said.
Jace shifted forward. "Vermax and I should accompany you. Two dragons would give the Watch greater protection and allow one rider to scout while the other remains near the Shadow Tower."
"No," I replied. His expression tightened immediately, but I continued before the refusal became an argument composed of anger. "You are the heir, your wife is carrying your first child, and the realm has only just regained confidence in the succession. I will not take you into an unknown conflict when one dragon can reach the Wall quickly enough to judge the threat."
"My position does not make me ornamental."
"It makes the risks surrounding you different from mine. You have already proven your courage in the Riverlands. This is not another opportunity to demonstrate it."
Jace glanced towards Sara. She did not speak for him, though the concern upon her face was impossible to miss.
"I could remain at the Wall while you negotiate," he said. "Vermax would provide a second line of defence."
"And if Hilvi possesses scorpions, hidden archers, or some weapon we have not considered, I would be responsible for placing both the queen’s husband and heir within reach. Dravvaxx is larger, older, and more difficult to kill. I will go first."
The restraint in Jace’s voice required effort. "Then allow me to organise the forces that follow. If Cregan marches, I can coordinate the crown’s orders with Winterfell."
"That would be useful," Rhaenyra said. "You will remain in King’s Landing until we know whether travel is necessary. Your place is not being diminished because your father flies ahead."
Jace accepted the compromise with a reluctant nod.
Luke spoke next. "What about Arrax and me?"
"Your wedding proceeds as planned," I said.
He stared at me. "You would fly into battle while insisting I continue choosing cloth?"
"I am insisting that the realm not abandon every sign of peace whenever a new threat appears. Your marriage is not decoration. It strengthens the royal family and Driftmark at a time when stability matters."
"If the Wall falls, the colour of the wedding banners will matter very little."
"The Wall will not fall."
The certainty in my answer quieted the room. I could not prove it. I did not know Hilvi, the true strength of her army, or what had driven her south. Yet uncertainty had already taken enough from us. I would not permit another war to begin by waiting until the danger reached a scale no one could contain.
Rhaenyra dismissed the council after issuing the first orders.
Ravens would leave before midday. Cregan Stark would be granted authority to call northern levies in the queen’s name and move them towards the Wall. White Harbour would prepare ships, while royal officers gathered supplies at ports along the eastern coast.
The Dread Legion would place two thousand men on readiness, though Vaeron argued that sending them north before roads and stores were prepared would create another hungry army rather than useful aid.
Dravvaxx and I would depart at dawn. Rhaenyra remained in the council chamber after the others left. The doors closed behind Vaeron, leaving the two of us beside a map upon which the distance between King’s Landing and the Wall looked insultingly small.
"You decided the moment you read Bolton’s letter," she said.
"I decided that Dravvaxx was the fastest answer. The exact purpose of that answer remains unsettled."
"You said you would put down the wildling army."
"If it attacks the Wall, I will."
"With one dragon."
"One dragon ended larger hosts when they remained concentrated."
"And one scorpion nearly killed you at Honeyholt."
The old wound beneath my ribs seemed to answer at the memory. Dravvaxx’s scar had healed, though neither of us had forgotten how quickly a concealed weapon altered a battle.
"The wildlings are unlikely to possess scorpions, maybe giants with bows, but definitely no scorpions."
"Unlikely is not the same as impossible. Seventy thousand people could hide more than a few clever builders."
I moved around the table and took her hands. "I will scout before descending. I will not fly low over forests merely because the enemy appears primitive, and I will not approach Hilvi without ensuring Dravvaxx can reach me."
"You are promising caution because you know I cannot stop you."
"I am promising caution because Honeyholt taught me its cost."
Rhaenyra looked towards the western end of the Wall marked upon the map. "We have only just put our family back together. Jace is married, Sara carries our first grandchild, and Luke’s wedding is approaching. For the first time in years, I can look around the table and know where every one of our children sleeps."
"I know."
"Then tell me why you must be the one to leave."
"Because asking another man to face seventy thousand people while I remain here with the only weapon capable of reaching him in time would make every lesson of the war meaningless. I regretted waiting while Otto prepared rebellion. I will not repeat that failure because peace has made departure inconvenient."
"This is not your failure."
"It will become mine if the Shadow Tower falls while Dravvaxx rests outside King’s Landing."
She closed her eyes for a moment. When she opened them, the queen had returned to her expression, though the wife remained beneath it.
"You will not burn the families merely because they march with the warriors."
"No."
"You will learn why Hilvi brought them south."
"If she allows it."
"And if she refuses?"
"Then I will ensure her army cannot cross the Wall."
Rhaenyra’s fingers tightened around mine. "Come back before Luke’s wedding."
"I intend to."
"That is not a promise."
I drew her closer, resting my forehead against hers. "Then I promise that I will do everything within my power to return."
She remained against me for several breaths before stepping away. "That will have to be enough."
I spoke with Luke and Rhaena that evening. They were in one of the smaller galleries overlooking the inner yard, surrounded by lists concerning ships, guests, and ceremonial positions. The darker sea-silver cloth lay across the table. Luke had chosen it after all.
Rhaena had already heard the council’s decision. "You intend to leave tomorrow," she said as I approached. "Luke believes the wedding should be delayed until the danger is resolved."
Luke gave her a frustrated look. "I said we should consider delaying it. That is not the same as deciding."
"You said proceeding while his father fights at the Wall would feel wrong."
"It might."
I sat opposite them. "The wedding will continue on the date agreed."
Luke leaned forward. "You may still be in the North."
"Then I will be absent, and you will marry Rhaena without turning my absence into another delay imposed by war."
"I do not want you absent."
"I do not want to be absent. Wanting does not resolve the situation."
Rhaena rested one hand beside Luke’s upon the table. "I told him the ceremony should proceed. We have already allowed war to determine too much of our lives. If the realm sees the royal family postpone another marriage because wildlings appear at the Wall, fear will spread faster than the truth."
Luke looked towards her. "I understand the argument. That does not mean I like it."
"You are permitted to dislike sensible decisions."
"You have spent too much time with my mother."
"She gives useful advice."
I looked at both of them. "Continue preparing. Do not make the wedding larger because you think spectacle will reassure the realm. A stable ceremony conducted on the promised date will say enough."
Luke’s gaze lowered to the cloth. "You truly believe you can stop them before they breach the Wall?"
"I believe Dravvaxx can make an assault impossible if we reach the Shadow Tower in time. Whether that requires destroying Hilvi’s army depends upon what I find."
Rhaena studied me. "You think she may negotiate."
"I think anyone capable of uniting that many free folk possesses reasons beyond simple hunger for southern land. Understanding those reasons costs little compared with burning thousands who may be following because they fear something worse behind them."
Luke’s expression changed. "The old stories beyond the Wall."
"Stories occasionally survive because people keep seeing what wiser men insist cannot exist."
I did not tell them everything I remembered.
Dead men walking through snow would sound like another dragon dream, and perhaps that was what it had become in this altered history. Yet Lord Commander Bolton’s letter carried urgency greater than ordinary raiding. Hilvi’s host might be fleeing winter, hunger, enemies, or something the realm had forgotten how to name.
Whatever the answer, I would find it before deciding how much of the haunted forest needed to burn.
Dravvaxx waited beyond the city walls before sunrise.
The air remained cool, and mist lay low across the ground. Dragonkeepers secured provisions to the saddle while royal messengers prepared to ride for northern ports. Dravvaxx sensed the journey in the activity around him. His wings shifted impatiently, and smoke curled from his nostrils whenever anyone approached too slowly.
Our children came to see me depart.
Jace stood with Sara, one hand resting protectively at the small of her back. Luke and Rhaena remained together. Rhaegar, Aerion, Viserys, Aemma, and Maelor formed an uneven line beside Rhaenyra, with the youngest still wrapped in a cloak over his nightclothes.
"You fighting another war?" Maelor asked.
"I am preventing one from reaching us."
"Will there be wildlings?"
"Far too many."
"Can Dravvaxx eat seventy thousand?"
Rhaenyra closed her eyes briefly.
"No dragon should attempt that," I replied. "He would become unbearable afterwards."
Dravvaxx released a low rumble, perhaps objecting to the limitation.
I embraced each child in turn. Jace reminded me that ravens should be sent daily once I reached the Wall. Luke repeated that the wedding would continue, though his tone suggested he regarded the promise as a bargain requiring my return.
Rhaegar asked whether Vhalalor should be moved to Dragonstone in case another threat appeared. Aerion wanted to accompany the first force north and was refused before completing the request. Viserys said little but held me longer than usual.
Rhaenyra waited until the others stepped back. "The Lord Commander asked for royal aid," she said. "Give him aid, not another legend about a prince who believed himself impossible to kill."
"I have already learned that lesson."
"Learn it again whenever necessary."
I kissed her beneath the shadow of Dravvaxx’s wing.
When I mounted, the eastern sky had begun to brighten.
The wedding preparations would continue behind me. Cloth would be chosen, ships decorated, guests housed, and vows written while ravens crossed the realm carrying orders towards the Wall. It felt wrong that ordinary happiness and approaching violence could exist at the same time. The war had taught us that they always did.
Dravvaxx spread his wings.
Far to the north, Lord Commander Eckard Bolton watched an army gather near the Shadow Tower. Seventy thousand free folk followed a woman who called herself Queen Hilvi, and no one south of the Wall yet understood whether she intended conquest or escape.
I would ask her once. If she chose war, Dravvaxx and I would give her one.