~ Maegor Stark POV ~
~ Castle Black, The Wall - 48 yrs BDOV~
A giant slab of gray, white, and blue stretching across the northern gray skies horizon.
The Wall was made to defend the realms of the First Men, and the men of the Night's Watch have reportedly defended the Wall against Others and other monsters for eight thousand years since the end of the Long Night.
According to legend, and my trips through the weirwood network confirming it, the Wall was built by Brandon the Builder with the assistance of children of the forest and giants, and it is protected with ancient spells and sorcery. Supposedly, Brandon placed foundations along heights wherever possible.
The Wall is a massive barrier of mostly ice stretching across the northern border of the Westeros, separating it from the wild lands beyond. The Wall is one hundred leagues long (three hundred miles) and reaches over seven hundred feet at his highest point, although some foundation blocks in hilly regions, such as near Greyguard, putting it nine hundred feet in the air.
'Ha. It's funny to think that G.R.R.Martin didn't really know how tall seven hundred feet actually meant when he wrote its description.' I thought to myself as we; my dear parents, fifty horse mounted men of the Winterguard as escorts, a couple dozen miscellaneous household staff, a few carriages, and I, finally catch sight of Castle Black.
I first caught sight of the Wall days ago, about fifty leagues back (one hundred and fifty miles). It rose over the northern horizon as shimmering blue and gray monument to Bran the Builders achievements. Yet, at this moment, as the dawning sun rises in the east, the Wall shines in a pinkish purple of the dawning sky.
For many of our entourage it is the first time seeing the Wall, let alone riding into Castle Black without planning to swear their vows. Excluding some guards, and my father, everyone else including my mother and I have a bewildered expression on their faces, mine being falsified.
I had two reasons for acting like this was my first time lying eyes on the Wall. First, it technically it is as a ten name days old Maegor Stark, I should be awestruck.
The second reason being that my Stark blood was singing just being near the Wall, like a resonance. Something that I'll be digging into later tonight on my solo night adventure.
For now I trotted my coal black stallion up to the front of the royal precession as the castle came into view.
Lord Commander Alaric Snow, the King of the Norths bastard brother, my grand uncle, is already standing within the courtyard awaiting us alongside the Maester of Castle Black and some other Black Brothers.
They bow their heads as my father rides up and dismounts his horse.
"Lord Commander." My father says formally once he steps in front of him.
"Prince Barthogan, look at you, a man grown now, with your own pup to raise. Never thought I'd live to see the day." Alaric barks back with none of the formality displayed earlier other than using his proper princely title.
He clasps forearms with my father before drawing him in for a familial hug. He spots me over Barthogans shoulder as I dismount my horse and head to the carriage, or wheelhouse as they call it here, and offer my hand so my mother and her staff may step off the carriage.
A dazed hush fell over the courtyard as the men of the Night's Watch got a good look at my mother's obviously captivating Valyrian beauty.
The first to come out of their dazed state was my grand uncle, who started howling with laughter.
"Hahaha. It seems like you are exceptionally fortunate nephew. Nearly nine and twenty name days and already blessed with a beautiful wife and a dutiful son. The God's truly have favorites." He said in a genuinely proud playful tone.
He turned to me when he finished officially introducing himself to my mother and said. "You must be the Dragonwolf pup the whole of the North has been raving about lately, Prince Maegor."
"It's great to finally meet you grand uncle, His Grace, my grandsire has told me much about you. His Grace said you would be the only person who could match my potential with a blade in the whole of the North. Is it true grand uncle, are you that good?"
"Maegor!" My mother, Daenora, cried out at my question. Yet, Alaric Snow just roars his booming laugh as he gives us guest rights with bread and salt and has a Black Brother show us to our rooms within the Kings Tower, a hundred-foot-tall round tower reserved for honored guests. While he returns to his duties within the Lord Commander's Tower, after promising to evaluate my skills with a blade tomorrow at dawn.
With the promise of sparring with him and probably other Night's watchmen tomorrow, we settled in for the day.
First thing my mother ordered all hearths to be lit and a scalding warm bath prepared for herself to warm up, the cold seeping off the Wall not doing well with her Valyrian senses.
Not that I blamed her, it's freezing cold up here, and it's usually like this year around, other than the years of occasional long summers.
While parents settled themselves in, I, as a curious ten name day old does, decided to explore alone. Well, partially, as I had three of the Winterguard following me at all time in the grey and black boiled leather armor worn over a grey heavy-duty cloaks with the House Stark direwolf sewn in.
I wandered around everywhere that I was allowed, which only excluding the top of the Wall. My father decided we would go up together sometime tomorrow or the day after, as we'll be guest of the Lord Commander for the next week or two.
It was hours later when the sun was low in the western sky that I was summoned to have supper with my parents and the Lord Commander. I bombarded him with questions during the meal, while always being reminded to behave as a prince should by my mother.
Not that grand uncle Alaric minded at all, he indulged my curiosity as only family could. He told me stories about Winterfell, the ancient Kings of the North, his childhood growing up along side his true born sibling, the King of the North, and his journey North to swear his life to the Night's Watch and his time at serving on the Wall.
My favorite stories so far was of him being chased around beyond the Wall by a shadowcat for three days when he was a just a new Ranger, years before being elected as the 836th Lord Commander.
Hours after the meal, stories, and a few late night tankards of stale northern ale, Alaric bid us goodnight and retired for the night.
Later that night, I slipped out of bed late into the hour of the wolf, opening the padded window panes of my room, I shifted into my raven form and flew out of the room at the top of the Kings Tower.
I flew circles around Castle Black a few times, watching the few patrols and sentries around the castle, a squad of Black Brothers getting into the lift to head up and relieve the men of the previous shift of their watch atop the Wall.
Then I flew up to the top of the Wall, perching myself atop the battlements ad looking out to the vast untamed North. Filled with Children of the Forest in the heart of the North, diverse Wildling tribes, giants and their mammoths, direwovles, shadowcats, and the cold shadows of the Others. Some of those beings I'll be hunting tonight.
My first target being a red eyed and black and silver furred alpha Direwolf and it's pack.
The hunt begins.