Jason never truly expected to ascend the throne. Standing atop the dais and looking out over tens of thousands of nobles and soldiers kneeling in hushed reverence, a wave of surrealism washed over him. It was a moment of immense gravity, the kind that should have been shared with family. However, to protect his parents and sister from the shock of his double life, Jason and his expert advisory team had kept them in the dark.
He had already secured their future with hundreds of millions in bank deposits—more than enough for his parents, his sister, and her husband, Lucas, to live in luxury. There was no need to pull them into the complexities of a feudal world when they could live happily and safely in the modern era. He had extended an invitation to his girlfriend, Lin Xiaohan, but she had declined for the time being. She remained at the helm of Fusion Trading, managing the corporate interests that fueled his expansion from the other side.
The coronation celebration lasted an entire day. Thanks to the logistics of modern supply chains, the "flowing water" banquet tables outside the camp were never empty. Every resident of the Winter Town and the surrounding hamlets was invited to feast for free. Even the workers at Ironwood Timber Co. were granted a day of rest to celebrate their lord's ascension.
"It's incredible! I've never seen food like this," one villager exclaimed, his face smeared with grease. "This has to be the best meal I've had in my entire life!"
"Show some respect, you fool!" his companion hissed. "It's 'His Majesty Jason' now!"
"Right, right! Long live His Majesty! May the Old Gods and the New bless him for such kindness."
For the common folk near Winterfell, such rich, oily, and plentiful food was a miracle. Children who had known only the thin stews of a harsh North now laughed with round stomachs and oily smiles, their ancestral poverty momentarily forgotten in a haze of roasted meats and sweet treats.
At the lumber mill, the workers—many of whom were the first to pledge their lives to Jason's cause—felt a deep sense of pride. Their quality of life already far exceeded that of the average Northern farmer.
"Long live King Jason!" a lumberjack shouted, hoisting a mug. "I knew the gods sent him to us. A man that benevolent belongs on the throne."
"I heard he's a Favored Soul," another whispered leaning in. "They say he brings magical steel tools from another world. Have you seen those carriages? The ones that roar and move on their own without a single horse? It's sorcery, I tell you."
"It's true. It's all over Winterfell," a third added. "His Majesty brought people from his world who look just like him. They've brought things Westeros has never seen. And the weapons... they say his army has 'sticks' that spit fire and thunder. They wiped out hundreds of thousands of those ghoul monsters. No army in the Seven Kingdoms stands a chance against him."
"Perhaps the wars are finally over," an old man sighed. "Perhaps we will finally know peace."
As the festivities continued, Maester Luwin and his acolytes were busy in the ravenry. They dispatched a flurry of black-winged messengers to every corner of the continent. Each bird carried an official edict: Jason East, the Lord of Starfire City and husband to Sansa Stark, had been crowned. The message was clear—submit and swear allegiance to the new King.
The reactions across the realm were swift but varied. In the West, the nobility scoffed. Tywin Lannister was currently in King's Landing, commanding the combined might of the Westerlands and the Reach to protect Joffrey's claim to the Iron Throne. To them, Jason was merely an upstart from the frozen wastes. While rumors of his victory over the White Walkers had reached their ears, they dismissed the tales as Northern exaggerations meant to frighten the gullible.
The Lords of the Vale were equally dismissive. They were too preoccupied with vying for the hand of Lady Lysa Arryn, hoping to seize control of the Eyrie. Protected by the Bloody Gate and the natural fortresses of the mountains, they felt untouchable. They cared little for the shifting tides of the North or the crown, confident that no army could ever breach their heights.
In King's Landing, however, the news was met with calculated fury. Tywin Lannister and the Tyrells immediately issued a declaration of treason, branding Jason a rebel and calling for a crusade. Yet, despite their bold words, they did not march North. A much more immediate threat had appeared in the Narrow Sea.
Intelligence reports confirmed that Daenerys Targaryen had arrived with a fleet and an army of over one hundred thousand. Dragonstone, the gateway to Blackwater Bay, had already fallen. Her three dragons had decimated the local fleet, placing a metaphorical dagger against the throat of King's Landing. With the Martells of Dorne also declaring for the Dragon Queen and threatening the borders of the Reach, the Tyrells were forced to keep their banners at home, unable to commit fully to a Northern campaign.
The news of Jason's coronation eventually reached Daenerys on Dragonstone. Inside the Great Hall, the Queen sat upon her throne, surrounded by her council. Ser Barristan Selmy stood tall as the Captain of her Queensguard, flanked by her bloodriders: Ago, Rakalo, and Jogo. Behind her, Missandei waited to translate and assist.
To her left stood Ser Jorah Mormont, followed by Grey Worm, commander of the Unsullied, and Daario Naharis, leader of the Second Sons. To her right sat Quentyn Martell, who had come to represent Dorne and, more privately, to seek a marriage alliance that would seat him beside her. Beside him was the "Spider," Varys. After his narrow escape from the capital, the eunuch had successfully brokered the alliance with Dorne and moved to support the Targaryen restoration.
The board was set, the pieces were moving, and the "Merchant of Two Worlds" had just declared himself a player in the ultimate game.
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