Divide and Conquer, Chapter 30: Creatures

Third Moon, 118 AD (17 AC)

Aegon

“Magnificent, aren’t they Your Grace?” the handler asked excitedly.

The man in question was one of the many demands he had made of Volantis as the annual tribute for staying out of the wars in Essos. He had asked that they send him a few of their most capable elephant handlers and trainers in advance before he had conquered the North, anticipating that they would soon be very necessary.

“They are indeed,” Aegon could not help but admit, feeling even a little bit giddy, for standing right in front of him was a very much alive, breathing, and majestic, woolly mammoth. It stood an astonishing thirteen feet tall at the shoulders with ten-foot-long tusks that curved inward and a whole coat of long, shaggy, rust-brown fur.

Perhaps he shouldn’t be feeling this amazed. After all, he was a proud and mighty Valyrian dragonlord, who wielded sorcery beyond imagination and rode a dragon that might one day become large enough to swallow creatures like these whole yet a part of Aegon still remembered a past life where magic and dragons had been but fairy tales and mammoths had been extinct for thousands of years.

That small part of him couldn’t help bouncing excitedly like a child at the thought of a living breathing mammoth right before his eyes, something that had once been nothing more than a dream. The rest of him was perfectly capable of appreciating a fine specimen of a rare animal species and the pragmatist within him was already thinking on how these lovely beasts might be best put to use to serve his realm while ensuring their species was preserved and protected.

It was perhaps one of the few good things Brandon Snow had ever done, loath as Aegon was to give him even an ounce of credit. No doubt he had done it simply to enrich his collection of animals to skinchange into and perhaps appease his children of the forest allies. Aegon somehow doubted Brandon had truly understood the true benefits of what he had imported into the North.

In his mania, the Warg King had imported and bred hundreds if not thousands of mammoths, reindeer, great elks, aurochs, snow bears, unicorns, direwolves, shadowcats. Those animals had all been native to the North and other parts of Westeros at one point but over many thousands of years almost all of them had been extirpated until they had only remained beyond the Wall or in the case of the unicorns, on Skagos.

Each of them were unique and fascinating animals. The mammoths, for aforementioned reasons, and because they were basically shaggy elephants that enjoyed snow. Reindeer were similarly adapted to cold climates and harsh conditions while great elks were yet another animal that had been extinct in his past life, being huge elks the size of moose with antlers ten to twelve feet across.

Aurochs had similarly gone extinct in his past life, having been hunted till there were none left, but though they were close to that same fate in this world, they hadn’t yet suffered that same fate. In addition, the aurochs in this world had once ranged from Oldtown to the valley of Thenn and thus they and their domestic cattle descendants in the North and Beyond the Wall were exceedingly adapted to their environments, with adaptations that reminded him in many ways of the Highland Cattle, yaks, and musk oxen of his past life.

Snow bears meanwhile were pretty much just the polar bears of his past life but even bigger and more terrifying, while the unicorns, direwolves, and shadowcats hadn’t quite existed in his past life, they had had many similarities to the animals he had known then and they were all extraordinarily beautiful creatures with unique roles to play in his realm.

The depopulation of the North from the Dragon’s Wroth and then again from his invasion and conquest had allowed many of the animals Brandon had bred to run wild and thrive. The reindeer and snow bears had gone into the colder and more snowy regions of the North, the direwolves howled in the Wolfswood in large packs once again, the unicorns were becoming plentiful in the mountains and hills, and many more examples.

Brandon and his giant allies’ whole herd of five hundred mammoths meanwhile, all that had remained after the casualties caused by the war, had been successfully captured by Aegon’s army and their care handed over to the Volantene elephant trainers who had been almost tripping over themselves in excitement at the sight of the legendary and rare mammoths. The giants had done well taming the mammoths and though they were unused to being handled by humans instead, the expertise and skill of the Volantene trainers had smoothed over that difficulty in due time.

In Aegon’s eyes, all of these animals could only benefit the North and thus his whole realm, both ecologically and economically. The various large herbivores would flatten and fertilize the lands while the predators would keep their numbers in check, recreating the mammoth steppes that may once have covered large parts of the North. The Stony Shore would certainly benefit from the presence of these animals, which might help to reverse the degradation of the soils there too.

The wild herds would help revitalize the North’s ecosystem and make it more fertile and habitable for humans while the tamed and reared herds would provide massive amounts of meat, milk, furs, wool, and ivory, improving the North’s prosperity and wealth. And Aegon had already made strict laws ensuring that his new settlers and whatever locals remained did not overhunt or overharvest either the wild or domestic populations of the animals in order to preserve those benefits in perpetuity.

At the very least it would be decades if not centuries before the human population in the North was large enough to really threaten the animals again and by that time their populations would have likely grown tremendously as they reclaimed the wildernesses, forests, and plains all over the region.

Perhaps in time, they might even be introduced into other parts of Westeros. The unicorns would certainly thrive in the mountains and hills of the Vale, the Westerlands, and the Red Mountains, and their horns, meat, milk, and furs would have tremendous value in those regions. He could foresee a use for the mammoths in the building projects in the Riverlands, or even to serve his legions in war like their elephant cousins did in the east.

It might even be possible to introduce beneficial animals from outside Westeros, such as the zorses of the Jogos Nhai, who would thrive in the North as well as in Dorne once he conquered it. Their hardiness, flexible diets, and adaptations to cold plains and hot deserts alike could see them thrive among wild and tamed horses alike in the Rills, Barrowlands, and Dornish deserts.

Their traits could even be crossbred with the local horses, like Dornish sand steeds or Northern palfreys, for interesting and potentially advantageous results in the hybrid offspring. He wondered if his Rangers would have any interest in zorses for their breeding with their own horses, though of course the zorses’ distinctive looks would need to be bred out to maintain stealth.

And of course, one mustn’t forget the political and prestige advantages of having these animals either. The Sealords of Braavos boasted of having the greatest menageries in the world but Aegon was already aiming to rival if not surpass them, perhaps even one day there might be a great and enormous zoo built in the city outside Summerhall Castle.

All of the aforementioned animals would be housed in his family’s menageries and zoos, joined in their esteemed company by many other august specimens and curious creatures, Little Valyrian lemurs, walking lizards with scythes for claws, basilisks, wyverns, manticores, phantom tortoises, hrakkars, lions, tigers, spotted tigers, pouch tigers, and many more. There they would entertain and amaze courtiers, dignitaries, guests, and hostages alike while enhancing the power and prestige of his family.

Aegon’s vision for the North’s future did not just involve animals of course. He had grand ideas for vast projects to harvest ironwood, lumber, maple syrup, amber, furs, and other forestry goods while the mountains and hills would be properly surveyed and prospected for ores, minerals, and precious stones and metals.

As for the Neck, originally, he had planned that the clearing and draining of the swamps and marshes, which had begun many years ago, would continue until all of them were gone and converted into fertile farmlands and roads.

It would have been a shame to destroy all of the Neck’s unique wildlife and habitat but the stability and unity of his future empire and the safety of his family had mattered more than anything and the final removal of the geographic barrier between the north and the south would have forever ended the last vestiges of the Northern identity and crush any minute thoughts of independence.

From a certain point of view, it could even have been argued that it was not ecological destruction but instead ecological restoration. If the legend was true that the Neck had been artificially created by the children of the forest with magic, then his draining of the region’s wetlands would simply have been restoring it to the state it had been thousands of years ago. It was an interesting thought to consider though one that would no doubt have been little consolation to all of the wildlife deprived of habitat by his plans.

Fortunately, he had eventually discovered that he did not have to destroy all of the marshes. When he had surveyed the lands from above atop Balerion, he had realized that the Neck was more than large enough that the economic and strategic purposes he had for clearing it could be satisfied even with a partial draining and so he had adjusted his plans accordingly.

About a fifth of the Neck, right in the heart of the marshes between Moat Cailin and Greywater Watch, was now demarcated as an ecological preserve. The roads and farmlands that were planned to surround the preserve near those castles, the Fever River, and the coast of the Bite would not be affected. Travelers and armies would still be capable of easily passing through the Neck. Its role as a geographic barrier would be at an end, but at least some of its old habitat would remain intact.

Hopefully, that would be enough for the lizard-lions and the other native animals and plants of the Neck to survive and thrive; Aegon could see many potential uses for them. Perhaps they might even adapt to the new (old?) conditions outside the preserve and foray out downstream into the Fever and Trident Rivers? He supposed that in the worst case, he could always make sure that they would forever survive in his family’s menageries and zoos, just like the great lions of the Westerlands that were already being protected there.

Aegon had already shared his thoughts for the North’s economic and ecological future with his chosen Wardens for the region, to ensure that they carried out his vision exactly as he imagined it (though he did allow some room for error and local adjustments). Perhaps they thought him an eccentric like most monarchs who had found a new obsession but if they were wise they would indulge his ‘obsession’ because they owed all their newfound lands and power to him.

They would likely thank him for it eventually anyway once the projects began to bear fruit and their Wards reaped the profits. His three territories in the North would serve as the example for them to follow.

Before the final conquest of the North had begun, he had already annexed the Neck as a new Crown Province (while creating Cape Kraken as a Ward) due to its strategic importance and the need to manage the draining project with close oversight. With the conquest of the rest of the North, Aegon had added the Crown Provinces of Winterfell and White Harbor to his family’s personal demesne, choosing them for both their strategic and economic value.

As much as he despised Brandon and the Starks, leaving Winterfell as ruins would be an utter waste of its location so perhaps it was a more fitting and lasting vengeance to flatten the ruins and fill them in to level the land like the incompetent Starks had never done and building a new castle upon the foundations. A dragonstone fortress in the Valyrian style that had the same name and location but was otherwise nothing at all like what the Starks had built.

Brandon Snow would be rolling in the grave, if he had one. They had fed his boiled carcass to their dragons after all.

It was just so sweetly satisfying to Aegon how thoroughly he had stripped away Brandon and his entire family’s legacy. Winterfell and the North had been destroyed and were being remade in House Targaryen’s image. The Old Gods were dead burnt out husks, and with the ritual they had conducted at the Nightfort, with Brandon’s blood as the tracker, even Brandon’s own bloodline might soon be extinct.

They had hunted down and killed every last one of his children hiding within the North and on Skagos as they had subjugated the last defiant regions, along with all of their protectors, the wargs and children of the forest who had accompanied them. As for those that had fled beyond the Wall, they had left them be, though they had sealed Gendel and Gorne’s caves behind them to ensure they could never return.

Perhaps they could have followed them into the Far North and made sure of their fate. Their dragons might have refused to cross the Wall, but if they had used their dragon horns and tried to force them over, they might just have crossed. Maybe they could have even gone around the Wall entirely by way of Skagos. But there was a reason their dragons refused to cross the Wall. Cold and ancient things slept in the Far North and it would not do to wake them.

And so, they had relented. Without their false gods, Brandon’s descendants, the children of the forest, and perhaps even what giants remained were doomed to obscurity or extinction and that had been enough for Aegon and his family.

That hadn’t stopped them from sharing the last known locations they had of any of them with Loren Lannister and his little band of exiles he was calling a kingdom up in Hardhome though. It had given him such a fright when a ship with the Targaryen banner had sailed into his port, and they would know; Aegon and his family had watched the entire scene from afar with their glass candles for their own amusement.

They were well aware of Loren Lannister’s carved out little piece of pathetic territory in the frozen backwaters of the Far North. Aegon was honestly quite impressed that Loren had managed to achieve it at all though it was endlessly amusing that the once proud and golden Lannisters of Casterly Rock had effectively been reduced to fur-wearing barbarians scraping at frozen rocks on the edge of the world.

Aegon would admit he was very fascinated by the entire project and curious to see where it would go. He had already written off the Gardener and Arryns’ similar territory at the Fist of the First Men as a lost cause as soon as winter came but Loren had had over a decade of time to prepare his new kingdom and sea access. He might just be able to make it.

Perhaps if they survived to build an actually stable kingdom, and if the question of the Others was ever satisfactorily resolved, they could be useful for eventually pacifying and civilizing the Far North. As was tradition in the relations between their families, Aegon’s descendants would only come in once the Lannisters had done all the hard work uniting and developing a new realm only to take it from them. It was quite hilarious to imagine.

Though oddly enough Aegon also felt the strangest sense of pity when he thought of that scenario. It almost felt like taking a sweet roll from a baby.

At the very least though, one thing was for certain. No matter what happened, the exiles in Hardhome were never going to be a threat to his empire. Perhaps they might even serve a benefit, through trade and as a replacement penal colony for the abolished Night’s Watch.

Remembering the decline of the Watch from that other world and the fact that it had already effectively dissolved due to mass desertion in this one, Aegon had opted to abolish the ancient order altogether. In its stead, he refortified the eighteen castles on the Wall and handed them out as fiefs to Defenders and Keepers sworn to the Wardens of Last Hearth. These lords were charged with all the traditional duties of the Night’s Watch, including the patrols along the Wall’s length, the upkeep of the Wall itself, and the maintenance of the one mile of cleared forest to the Wall’s north.

With the option to take the black removed, prisoners charged with lesser crimes such as petty thievery would now be given manual labor on the realm’s many, many infrastructure projects while criminals charged with more dire crimes such as rape, murder, or treason would find themselves shipped into exile straight up to Hardhome if they were lucky or just chucked straight out the Wall’s gates into the lands beyond with nothing but the clothes on their back if they were not.

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Sixth Moon, 118 AD (17 AC)

The Red Woman

The Martells were panicking. The Targaryens had finished the conquest of the North a few months ago and they had done something to the weirwoods because every last weirwood in the godswoods of Dorne had been reported as having burned up in a fiery red blaze one evening until nothing was left.

Prince Nymor and his family had no idea what it meant but they had been applying more pressure on Melony and the other foreigners they had recruited ever since to redouble their magic research efforts even as they threw themselves even further into their mundane preparations.

Fools all of them. Nothing mundane would save them from the wrath of the dragons and if they truly believed those Qartheen warlocks and other pretentious false mages they had recruited from Essos had any worth in them, they would be most disheartened to find that either their weak spells would fail them when the time came or they would simply slink into the shadows and abandon Dorne to its fate.

Melony was not one of them. She knew what no one else in Dorne knew, what no one else in Dorne had even dared to believe. The Targaryens had done what she wished she could have. They had destroyed the false ‘Old Gods’, the servants of the Great Other. Ripped them out root and stem and burned them all as a sacrifice to the Lord of Light.

Only the Targaryens did not worship the Lord of Light. They did not worship anything but themselves. They had made the same mistakes their Valyrian ancestors had. They had fallen into hubris, into the arrogance of daring to think that they were above the divine. And some of her so-called colleagues who had ventured into their realm had dared to agree with them, dared to set the edicts and commands of the Targaryens above the will of their Lord.

This sacrilege was something that she could not accept. The Lord of Light had given Valyria its dragons and its magic. And the Valyrians had spat on him as thanks. Just like their ancestors, the Targaryens were unworthy of having their gifts, but as the Lord giveth, the Lord doth taketh away.

Melony had been chosen to make the Targaryens answer for their hubris. She had been the one empowered to save Dorne for only through the Lord of Light did Dorne have any chance of prevailing against the Targaryens, their dragons, their armies, and their magic. None of these mundane preparations or false mummers’ mages from Essos would suffice.

She had seen it in the flames. They would all fail. And they would all burn.

Her concentration slipped and the flames she was trying to shape flickered out. Melony sighed. It seemed this latest batch of seed and king’s blood the Martells had so eagerly provided to her was not powerful enough either.

What could be the cause of their blood’s weakness she wondered? Was it perhaps because they were princes and not kings? Or mayhaps because the Rhoynish water magic of their ancient forebears was the direct opposite of the shadow and flame she was trying to wield the blood for now?

Whatever the matter was, she would have to find another source of king’s blood and soon. Time was running out.

She needed to make the Targaryens pay for spiting her Lord’s gifts. And she needed to complete her mission. It was the only way she would be able to finally forsake this name. To forget Melony of Lot Seven, the pathetic little slave girl, and finally become who she was meant to be.

The Red Priestess, Melisandre.

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Author’s Note: I hope you guys enjoyed this chapter! I got into a bit of an obsession with Pleistocene animals and frankly animals as you can see lol. ASOIAF honestly has a really cool number of animals. There’re not just fictional creatures like dragons, direwolves, shadowcats, and unicorns but cool IRL prehistoric animals too like Great Elks which are Megaloceros gigantus or the woolly mammoth. Pretty cool stuff. Check them out on the ASOIAF wiki if you’re interested!

And yes, Melony is a young Melisandre if any of you hadn’t guessed that yet.

Please me know your thoughts, suggestions, and questions in the comments below or over on Discord!