What if Lyanna Stark DIDN'T Die

What if Lyanna Stark didn't die? Let's explore the depths of it in the video. Ned Stark bursts into the birthing room of the Tower of Joy, following the sounds of weeping. The maester and the midwives step aside to let him pass as he sees his sister. He is on her side instantly, cradling her head and assuring her that things will be okay. Lyanna looks at her brother in shock, unable to keep back her emotions. She doubted she would ever see him again after everything that had happened. But seeing him now seems to give her some strength, and she grips his hand tightly. Although the midwives fear that Lyanna doesn't have the strength to survive, as the color returns to her face and her grip strengthens, they begin to have hope. It still takes days of careful nursing, but she soon regains the energy to recover. At that time, Lyanna explains to Ned everything about her son, Dron. He listens to these words in somber silence, his face growing more troubled the more he hears. Lord Stark promises her that everything will be okay, but he is far less certain it will be. What little peace Lyanna enjoys is quickly shattered when she returns to King's Landing. Robert is initially overjoyed to see her back safe and sound, but his excitement turns to shock as he sees Daron, and she explains what truly happened. Far from the kidnapping and rape that he believed happened, she went with Rhaegar willingly. His face darkens. Lyanna tries to explain everything. Rhaegar believed in a prophecy. The prince that was promised, a savior meant to protect Westeros from the long night. A child born of ice and fire. That is why he chose me. Dron is that child. For a moment, there is only silence. Then Robert laughs. A bitter hollow sound that fills the room like the tolling of a funeral bell. So that's your excuse? You expect me to believe you ran off and doomed half the realm because of a bedtime story? Was that all it took for Rhaegar to convince you that it was right? It is more than a story. The signs were there, the dreams. You did not see the things I saw. Nor did you see the things I did. The signs, the dreams. What of real things, Lyanna? What of the good men who died because of your folly? Your brother, your father. Thousands of men bled out in the mud. And for what? You sle prince's madness. You were not the one to speak of betrayal, Robert. You swore you love me. Yet you fathered bastards before we even wept. Do not speak to me of infidelity, woman. My sins are mine to bear, but they do not start a war. I will not pretend I was abstinent as a scepter. But I do not claim my actions are anything more than acts of folly and lust. You speak of your precious prophecy as if it justifies everything that happened. Tell me, what would have happened when that Rhaegar got another delusion of grandeur in his head? How many wars could justify his dream? You speak of infidelity. Yet you were forgetting Rhaegar had a wife and children. What a children. Their blood decorates the stones of the Red Keep in the place you wished for Daron to make his own. As if none of it happened. Make no mistake, it was Lord Tywin's minions that slew her. But you sealed their fate when you ran off. Lyanna swallows hard, her lips parting as if to form some rebuttal, but nothing comes. She had expected Robert to rage, but Ned's words struck deeper than any blade. Please, Robert, hate me if you must, but do not take it out on Don. I will not harm the boy, but he will never be my son. And so we are clear. The betroal is no more. You are free of me. He leaves without another word. Ned spares her a look before following. Lyanna, for the first time since she left the Tower of Joy, feels truly alone. True to his word, Robert allows the boy to live, but sends him off to Winterfell the first chance he gets. He will not stand the sight of Lyanna's infidelity, so Dhon spends his time with the Starks. Though his biological father is gone, Ned steps in to care for the boy as his father. Daron grows up alongside the other Stark children and Lady Catelyn, who also helps care for him. They come to see him as a surrogate son. There is a distance between the other Starks and Lyanna, who they cannot ever fully forgive for her role in the rebellion that caused so much destruction. Meanwhile, Robert continues to rule as king, though he never marries. To have lost Lyanna in such a way leaves a hole in his heart more painful than he can ever imagine. It is one thing to have lost her to Rhaegar by kidnapping or even death, but to hear what she had done. His image of her is shattered and nothing can ever replace that. Though John Aaron urges him to marry, even for the sake of the realm, Robert refuses. That does not mean he becomes celibate. Instead, he throws himself into any woman he finds, spending his days whoring and feasting. Even with John, Aaron, and Stannis's efforts to curb his vices, there is little they can do. This leads to increasing instability in the realm as not only does Robert spend little time ruling, he never names an heir to the throne. Although many believe that Dhon may be the next king, Robert refuses to confirm it. Some believe it may be an act of spite towards Lyanna and others believe he simply cannot bear to accept Rhaegar's child as the next king. Whatever the reasons, it leads to instability as for the longest time, succession remains in limbo. For the first few years, rebellions remain, as many houses see this as a chance to expand their influence and challenge a dynasty they do not believe will last. Robert almost welcomes this change, seeing it as an opportunity to do something. At least here, he knows where his enemy is, and for the next few years throws himself into combat, heading into the thickest of battles without regard for life or safety. This comes to cost him dearly during the Greyjoy Rebellion when he storms Pike right behind Thorus of Mir. Though the Ironborn are being pushed back, the sight of Robert and his distinctive armor and antler helmet rallies them. They all come rushing towards him, eager to take his head. Arrows and crossbow bolts rain down at him as over a dozen warriors rush at him with axes and swords. Laughing, Robert meets them and crushes them one by one, and some of the barrage manages to slip through and strike at his armor. By the end, his armor is battered and beaten, in terrible need of repair. But before his king's guard can cover him, the last Ironborn warrior raises his hammer and smashes it into Robert's stomach. This time, his battered plate does not protect him, and he doubles over with several broken ribs. The king's guard cuts down the warrior as the king is dragged from the battlefield. The maester tends to his injuries, and many fear he may not survive. Yet, by some miracle, the king pulls through. However, this brush with death highlights his mortality more than ever and the question of succession. The person who notices this most is Stannis, who storms into the tent once Robert is recovered. You are being selfish while you run around playing hero and whoring yourself into an early grave. The realm holds its breath because you refuse to name an heir. I'm not dead yet. I And yet you refuse to even talk about the issue. If I die, you become king. What do you have to be upset about? Do not insult me, brother. If you had wished me heir, you would have named me. I will not be an afterthought. Without an official decree, my claim is no better than any usurpers. Name who you will. Me, a Ned Stark, a Deron. But name someone, lest the likes of Aeris or even Balon Greyjoy try to claim the Iron Throne. Do not mention that boy's name in my presence. Make no mistake. I am not Ned Stark. I will not walk on eggshells around you. I've heard about Don. Lady Malisandre whispers of him. She whispers that there is something about him. Another loose end that needs to be addressed. I understand not killing him, but his claim must be dealt with. Yes, I've heard what the damned red woman says. I don't believe in your damn prophecy, Stannis. Even so, the issue must be addressed. Fine, the boy can be warded on Dragon Stone. If you find them worthy, I will name him heir. Once again, the responsibility falls to me. And yet succession is being addressed. Now be gone and let the king rest. Though reluctant to part with him, Lyanna agrees to this arrangement and Dron grows up under Stannis's watchful eye on Dragonstone. Trained in swordsmanship, command, and justice. He is groomed as a potential heir. Though Stannis keeps his expectations measured. Yet whatever judgments Stannis might have, he acknowledges the boy proves to be promising, showing a keen mind for tactics and an innate sense of leadership. He takes to his studies with diligence, learning statecraft alongside his marshall training. Melisandre aids him, telling him of prophecies in the Lord of Light. She instills in him that the mortal issues of succession are nothing more than specks and sparks compared to the true war that lies beyond. Stannis takes him to King's Landing several times, allowing him to witness firsthand how the realm is governed. He watches the small council, listens to the politics of the court, and studies the strengths and weaknesses of the kingdom's rulers. Even Renley takes an interest in the boy, showing him the art of negotiation and the charm needed to win the loyalty of great houses, skills that Stannis himself lacks. Robert encounters the boy in a few tense exchanges. Stannis sends him regular updates regarding the boy. highlighting his growing skill and suggesting he may be a suitable heir. He sees the potential in Dhron and recognizes his intelligence, his strength, his ability to lead. Even Robert cannot deny him. In the few cold conversations they have, he sees Dron's intelligence. He watches him joust and defeat fellow squires and knights, but he also sees Rhaegar in the boy's melancholy expression and Lyanna in his eyes and dark hair. Every time Robert looks at him, he is reminded of the past, of what he lost, of the war that was fought and the men who died. No matter Dhon's promise, Robert cannot bring himself to name him heir. And so the question remains unanswered, despite Stannis's insistence on solving the matter. But Robert isn't the only man they meet in King's Landing. Stannis and Renley take him to meet knights and prominent lordlings, soldiers, septins, merchants, and other important figures who Dhon will need if he ever rules. Many of them have personal experiences with Robert and spend their time talking about him. Knights and men at arms speak of their battles during the rebellion. They speak of his victories as though they are myths in the making. His hammer shattering Prince Rhaegar's chest, his charge at the Trident, his sheer indomitable will in battle. The merchants speak of his open-handedness and willing to provide them with whatever concessions they want. Lordlings tell of the feast hunts and great games he has. To all these people, they have nothing but praise for the king. Daron listens with wrapped attention, absorbing every word, every tale of valor. It is unlike the cold, stern man who greets him every time he visits the capital. He has spent years at Dragonstone under Stannis's careful toutelage, learning discipline, strategy, and the burden of duty. But here in King's Landing, he sees something else. A legend. A man who is loved and revered by those who serve him. He wants that. He wants Robert's respect and his approval. If he wishes to truly become king, then that is what he wants. That same love and agilation. So, he throws himself into his training with renewed vigor. He rides harder, trains longer, and spars with the most skilled knights at court. He studies war and recites the histories of the great battles Robert has fought, hoping to earn his acknowledgement. But when Robert looks at him, it is not pride or approval he sees in the king's eyes. It is distance and suspicion, at best indifference. What little praise he offers is laced with obligation, a simple nod or a few courteous words, nothing more. One evening, after a long day of training, he finds himself at the painted table in his chambers, staring at the map of Westeros, tracing the rivers and mountains absent-mindedly. Stannis enters, his expression softens slightly as he looks at the young man. You will not find Robert's favor there. He praises his knights. He shares wine with them and laughs with them. He celebrates their victories, but never once. He has never once thanked me either. Not for Storm's End, not for Fair Isles or building his navy. All he remembers is how I failed to capture Vizeris. I served him dutifully for years. And yet, I have not received a thank you. Yet, your uncle gets nothing but kind words from Robert. One would think he was his brother and not me. That is who he is. Once Robert makes up his mind about a man, little can change it. Then what am I supposed to do? Do your duty. You are your own man, and a king does not require affirmation from anyone else. A king's praise is fleeting. Duty is not. Lord Stannis speaks truly. Your gaze lingers in the wrong direction, young one. The king is as blind as everyone in that court. And what direction should I be looking? Where would Rhaegar look? The real war is not here. The true test, the true enemy lies beyond the wall, in the cold, in the darkness. Dron shivers, though not from the night air. He thinks of the tales of the ancient enemies of men that have faded into myth. He's heard the mention of prophecies and dreams from the red woman and his mother, but he's never truly heard of it in its entirety. Melisandre senses his confusion too, but assures him that they will explain everything in time. Taking her advice to heart, Dron decides to journey to the wall, accompanied by Stannis as a courtesy call to the Nights Watch. He visits their castles and speaks with the Lord Commander to hear their plight. George Mormont knows little of prophecies and princes, but he does tell him of the problems of the wall. He says how the Night's Watch is dying, how their numbers deplete every year, and they do not have the men to defend the wall beyond simple raids. Because of that, they can't truly tell what is happening beyond. It is a disappointing answer, but before Dron leaves, he is summoned by Maester Aman, who speaks to him. The old maester feels his face, shocked to feel the familiar features of a Targaryen, and reveals everything about the prince who was promised. Aman explains how it was an old prophecy passed down through the centuries even before the conquest. It is a claim that one day a Targaryen will rise and defend the realm from a great evil. A great evil known as the great other. It is spoken by those who follow the lord of light. A being of pure ice who wishes to shroud the world in darkness. Only those who follow the lord of light, such as myself, know of him and how to stop him. to that I cannot confirm. But as a maester of this order, I can say that any aid the good prince will provide is welcome. Jeremmont is a practical man, but he is not close-minded. If he sees signs of trouble or anything unnatural, he will help you. Then I shall see what I can do. When Dron returns to King's Landing, he brings this news to Robert. Yet he is not just skeptical, he is incensed. He has heard enough prophecies from Lyanna and Rhaegar and will not listen to that nonsense any longer. To him, these talks of others in the long night are just fairy tales for the foolish. He refuses to provide any more aid than he's already given. Saying that the Night's Watch is the North's responsibility. Though Dhon tries to press the matter, Robert roars and says that if Dron truly wishes to become king one day, then he should focus on the matters of men and not fantasy. Seeing no aid will come from the crown, Stannis pulls the prince aside and offers his help. If they will not help, then the two of them will act without him. Piracy has long been a problem in the Narrow Sea and especially the Stepstones where corsaires and raiders have made their nests. As master of ships, Stannis has the authority to act on these issues and gives Dron a squadron to deal with them. An antipiriracy campaign is conducted against these dens supposedly to prevent them from harming the merchant fleets. With Stannis's disciplined fleet, the pirates are no match, and their ships are destroyed one by one. At least at sea, with their galleys, long ships, and Carricks can chase them down and board them. These ships flee to the Stepstones and other hidden inlets, forcing Dhron to fight them on land in long and brutal campaigns. These nearly bring them into conflict with the Free Cities, who see it as the Seven Kingdoms trying to expand their influence. It is only the intervention of Jon Erin that prevents the conflict from brewing. But at least several hundred men are sent to the wall, allowing them to garrison new castles and organize new rangings. Daron decides to also travel across the seven kingdoms ostensibly as a tour to meet with lords. But he also wishes to gather support for the nights watch. He travels from Dorne all across the south to the reach stormlands and Westerlands, meeting with lords great and small. There he dines under their roofs, listens to their issues, and laughs at their stories. Daron exchanges gifts with them and tries to match Robert's jovial nature, but finds it difficult. Instead, they like him more because of his earnestness, especially when he talks about matters that seem important to him, especially when he talks about the Night's Watch and their plight. This leads them to provide some support, whether it's captured lawb breakakers, money, or supplies. Most of these efforts are small, given simply as a token of goodwill rather than any love for the order. But it does build up bit by bit. The Night's Watch rebuilds itself. By the time Dron reaches the Westerlands though, Tywin has heard of these efforts and instead meets him with a surprise proposal. He will send close to a thousand men to the wall and a generous amount of gold. But all he asks in exchange is a marriage alliance. After the rebellion, Tywin tried to ingratiate himself with a new king, but with little success. Though Robert thanked them for their past, they won no great favor. Since Robert refuses to marry, Cersei never becomes queen. and ends up marrying Willis Tyrell instead. An equally unhappy marriage, especially as Cersei does not become queen. But with Dhron, Tywin sees a chance to regain influence by marrying Cersei's daughter Marcella. With Daron, a marriage between you and Marcela, by union between Targaryen and Lannister, as I proposed so long ago, between the future of the realm and the most powerful house of Westeros. With it, you secure not just gold and soldiers, but legitimacy, influence. You did propose this match once, and yet, as I recall, you also betrayed your king when the time came. You waited until the end of the rebellion before you acted. One might consider that an act of an untrustworthy venaman and a fairweathered ally. Do you expect me to deny that? Yes, I betrayed Aries. I will not hide that fact because he was a poor leader and an even worse politician. I served him dutifully for years and received no thanks. All I ever got from him was spite insults and the gracious honor of standing by his side while he burned men alive, grinning as if it were a gift he was bestowing upon the realm. By the end of his reign, he used my son as a hostage and opposed everything I suggested simply to spite me. After I saved him in Duskindale, he barely looked me in the eye. Tell me, does that sound familiar? You were talking about Robert, but those are two different situations. The king is not a monster. He does not burn people alive or order the deaths of Banamin on a whim. No. Yet he shows as much aptitude to ruling as the mad king. He does not marry or strengthen ties with other houses. He does not unite the realm. Robert rules as he lives. Drunk, indulgent, and utterly uninterested in the burdens of kingship. He treats the crown not as a duty, but as a license to [ __ ] and revel while the realm decays beneath him. Robert's legacy is built on rebellion. A throne taken by force is rarely kept for long without strong alliances. I lived through one rebellion, but this alliance would ensure I do not live through a second. If you were to become king, I will ensure the night's watch receives more than adequate support. Dhon frowns at the last sentence. if he were king. He studies Tywin slowly, wondering whether he is insinuating anything before bowing his head. Very well, I will consider it, my lord. Tywin inclines his head, a silent victory gleaming in his eyes. The journey back to King's Landing is filled with unease. He sends word ahead to his allies, Stannis, Ned, Lyanna, and Melisandre. The moment Daron arrives back at Dragonstone, a storm of voices meets him. Talwin Lannister is not to be trusted. He would see you seated on the Iron Throne, but only if it benefits him. Only a fool would trust him. His actions in the sack of King's Landing are evidence enough. I dislike my brother, but I have no desire to see him deposed. You are meant for greatness. The fire reveals it. If Tywin Lannister sees this, then he is not blind. If not, he can be removed after you've claimed the crown, young prince. He is not loyal nor a fool. Once you accept this deal, he will ensure he holds the power. To fight him, we'll be fighting another war. A drain on our resources. But Rhaegar's dreams. If working with Tywin can help us, then we should consider it. Keep him on a tight leash. Tarwin kept his mad dog on a leash, but that did not turn out so well. Rhaegar followed prophecy all the way to his grave. We all saw where that led. How far will you go to chase this so-called destiny? Daron Dhon hesitates, the question cutting deeper than he expects. How far would he go? Before he can answer, a messenger enters, breathless, announcing that the Night's Watch has found something. The wildlings are abandoning their villages and gathering in numbers never before seen. That they have rallied around a new leader, a king beyond the wall. Silence fills the room. The political maneuvering of the day suddenly feels small in comparison to the weight of those words. The real enemy, the true war, looms beyond the wall. Dron exchanges glances with his mother, with Stannis, and with Ned. Dron, Lyanna, and Ned ride north under the guidance of Corin Halfhand. The cold wind biting at their cloaks as they pass through the desolate villages. Many are abandoned. The people have fled south in fear. But some remain. Mance has not yet finished uniting his people, though tens of thousands now follow him. From one of the remaining villages, they learn the truth. The villagers speak of man's raider, the king beyond the wall, who is gathering all the free folk in a way never seen before. He says his goal isn't to invade the north, but to save his people from destruction. He claims there is something out there, something that even the heartiest warriors fear. Fear grips them, not of Mance, but of the reason behind his call to arms. Recognizing the urgency, the Night's Watch requests an envoy to meet with Bance on their behalf. This meeting is set in the fist of the first men, an ancient place of power where the wildlings have gathered a short while away. Daron accompanies Doromorants with nearly a thousand knights watchmen, a testament to the prince's recruiting campaign and showing that they have enough men to fight a battle if it comes to this. Mance is already waiting for them when they arrive, his helmet resting on a table as he regards them. Let me start by dispelling your worry. I am not interested in making war with the Night's Watch. My goal is simply to ensure the security of my people from a larger threat. And what might that be? The White Walkers. Melisandre gasps and Don leans closer. It is as if the room has just got several degrees colder when he says that name. Yet Jorah crosses his arms and snorts. White Walkers. You expect me to believe that all of this is for a simple fantasy? I do not. Tell me, do you think I would have gone through all this effort for a simple fantasy? I would have gone through the trouble of rallying the free folk if I wasn't certain or that they would even join me. Then how are you certain? Because I've seen them. I've seen them staring at me from the woods. I see the corpses of men I knew disappearing. I've seen dead men rising in the dead of night and marching off. And ask any of my chiefs and they will say the same. So that leaves us with a predicament. You say you've seen them. How powerful are they? They grow stronger every day. With every corpse they find, their army increases. That's why I'm rallying my people to make sure that we all get across. Which raises the question, what shall we do when we reach the wall? I know you've been gathering forces, and I suspect not just for free fork. You know what will happen if they kill us? I believe it may be in our best interest to save these people. And what do we do after that? South of the wall is my land. Are we simply to accept them? Daron listens intently, his breath misting in the frigid air. The name the wildlings use, white walkers, rings with dark significance. He recalls the words of the prophecies of the great other spoken in Rhaegar's visions. Not all land has been claimed. The gift remains unused. The Night's Watch may not need it. We can settle the wildlings there, but in exchange, the wildlings must cease raiding. I can do what I can, but I make no promises. We'll also need their swords. If what you say is true, they will need everyone who can fight. Once you've united the people, the Night's Watch can let them through. If Lord Commander Mormont allows them, if the Wildlings hand over their weapons, cease Raiden, and keep the gift, I can see what I can do. A hard bargain, but a fair one. We will do what must be done, but I'll need more men. Manscap police them himself. I'll need volunteers and a representative from the north. I'll do it. What? You were right, Ned. My actions did lead to those men's death. I cannot undo them, but I can help now. Let me save these people. I have lost everything but my name. Let me use that to help. Dron, my son, you have a great destiny ahead of you. Let me share in that burden. Ned trembles and stares at the two of them, but then his face softens and he nods with agreement struck. The true war is coming, and for the first time in centuries, the North prepares for the darkness beyond the wall. But while the North makes its preparations, the South edges closer to turmoil. For years, the last son of the dragon had wandered Essos, clinging to his birthright with the desperation of a drowning man. But at last, he has made his move. Viseris Targaryen married his sister off to Cal Drogo. At first, the Dothraki had little interest in his cause, especially when their omens did not favor war. But the omens changed. Signs in the sky, whispers of a great dragon rising in Westeros. When news reached them that Daron had begun consolidating power and gaining influence, the Omens warned that he would threaten their influence, that if he rises, he will overshadow the stallion who mounts the world. The time had come to carve their mark into Westeros. Viserius lands first in Dorne, where he finds a kingdom still simmering with resentment from the rebellion that took Ellia Martell and her children. An old pact made years ago now comes to pass. While Daenerys marries the Dothraki, Viseris marries the Martell. The people remember Rhaegar fondly, and the arrival of his brother, especially with an army at his back, stirs old loyalties. In exchange, Cal Drogo keeps his men in line, limiting raiding in Dorne as they make their way northward. The invasion moves swiftly into the Stormlands. The first clashes occur at Nightong in Griffin's Roost, where the combined Dornish and Dothraki forces shatter the smaller Stormlander garrisons. The Dothraki, masters of open field combat, decimate the Knights of the Stormlands, who are unprepared for the Horde's speed and maneuverability. The Dornish, meanwhile, hold key passes and harass supply lines, weakening resistance before major engagements. Renley Baratheon takes up arms against them. The Stormlords rally, but their forces are divided, and the Dothraki exploit these weaknesses, winning a series of minor victories. Renley himself leads a valiant stand at Bronzegate. He holds them for a time with his longbowow men, who rain down arrows against the Drachi screamers and force them to pull back. A clever ploy using straw dummies on horseback makes his host appear larger. But the Dornish see through this ruse and attack. The youngest Baratheon is forced to retreat where he regroups in Bitterbridge. Seeing their success and the sluggish pace in which Robert gathers his host, the Reach, led by Mace Tyrell, enters the war on Viseris's side. With the full might of the Reach joining the invasion, the war escalates dramatically. The Tyrells bring vast armies and their formidable knights clash with Robert's loyalists in the Stormlands and Riverlands. Sensing an opportunity, Balon Greyjoy declares for Viseris in exchange for free reign to raid the north. The Ironborn launched devastating assaults along the northern coasts, burning villages and laying siege to Deepwood M. Robert, furious at the invasion, calls on his allies in the Veil and the Riverlands to counter the threat. The Eerie sends forces under John Aaron's command, while House Tully mobilizes its bannermans to reinforce Robert's forces. Meanwhile, Renley is ordered to pull back to the Crownlands and regroup with the rest of the army. They flee northwards through the King'swood, where the Dornish men try to cut them off. But Robert's host soon arrives, and they clash just outside the woods. There, the Rivermen, Veil Lords, and the remnants of Renley's host clash against the combined might of the Reach, Dorne, and the Derthraki. The battle is brutal with the Reach's disciplined knights clashing against Robert's hardened warriors. The Dothraki wreak havoc on the battlefield, but Robert himself fights at the front, rallying his men with sheer force of will. However, he has Sir Barristan lead a daring charge through the woods, securing it for themselves and reigning arrows on the Dothraki from behind. Though the battle is inconclusive, it forces both sides to reassess their strategies. With their path to King's Landing blocked, Viserius must instead ride around these forces while Robert shifts onto the offensive. Meanwhile, Tywin Lannister remains neutral, carefully observing the war's progress. He continues to remind Daron of his offer, subtle influencing by promising his host if Daron agrees. As the war drags on, both sides find themselves locked in a grinding stalemate. The Riverlands become the primary battleground. As the Crownlands are blocked off, Renley leads the offensive to begin recapturing troops in the Stormlands, while Robert takes half the army and blocks their attack in the Riverlands. Though the Targaryen army makes slow progress, both forces clashed repeatedly over key strongholds such as Harrenhal and Derry. The Reach and Dorne push deeper into the Stormlands, but Renley's forces remain entrenched, refusing to give ground. The conflict stretches resources thin, and Winter's approach threatens to further complicate the war. As the Ironborn ravages the North's coasts, Ned Stark swiftly organizes his bannerman, repelling the invaders with a series of brutal counterattacks. The Ironborn, overconfident in their ability to raid unchecked, are driven back to their long ships as northern forces commanded by Daron, Ned, and Rob, launch a three-pronged assault to take back key castles. One by one, castles and villages are liberated with the Ironborn suffering heavy losses. In a matter of weeks, the Krakens are forced to retreat from the north entirely, their plundered riches abandoned. Despite this victory, Ned Stark remains cautious. The threat of the White Walkers looms beyond the wall, and he refuses to commit his full strength to the Southern War. We are not certain whether the Ironborn will return, and with the wildlings and white walkers north, I fear we cannot commit a larger force to this war. The South must make do without us. How can you say that? Robert is your friend. It pains me to do it. Make no mistake about that, nephew. But how can I lead men south while the threat remains here? Then give me command. Let me take those willing. That is a kind thought, my child. But while the war rages south, the truer war is here. We will need whatever men we have should the White Walkers attack. Suddenly, Deon raises his arms up on the table and slams them down, leaving it rattling. That's enough of this prophecy. I've had a belly full of these claims, and I'm sick of it. While we worry about the war beyond, there is a war at our doorstep now. A war that claims the lives of people who we are meant to save, and that we sit here and do nothing. You say that this conflict doesn't matter. But it will matter to Robert, to Stannis, and to Lord Aaron. And to be frank, it matters to me. If I are meant to be the true ruler of the seven kingdoms, then I should value their well-being just as well. My boy is right. I have forgotten that when I was lost in prophecies in the dreams of Rhaegar. But the time for dreams is over. Now is the time for action. Do not worry. I will hold the walled until you return. This I swear. Dron looks at his mother in surprise and finds steel in them. She stands up straighter and Deron offers her a nod. As he begins to prepare his army, he gathers a small but elite host, selecting warriors willing to ride south with him. Mance's radar sends a contingent of wildlings, including thin warriors and even several giants. Their presence shocks those in the north, but Daron welcomes them. Stannis sails his fleet to the north to bring Daron's host south, landing them near the Stormlands, where Renley Baratheon struggles against the Dornish and Dothraki onslaught. Though outnumbered, Renley's forces have managed to hold key defense positions, including Storm's End, but their strength is waning. When Daron's forces land, they strike swiftly along Storm's End, using the trees, the ths, and giants. They move unseen while the northern host rides out in the open. Dothraki and Dornishmen hurry to confront them. Seeing their small size and sensing an easy victory, they rain down arrows and spears upon them. Yet the Northmen do not rush back. Instead, they hide behind tall shields as their prince rallies them, maintaining order and preventing them from overextending. The surprising discipline doesn't stop the Dothraki, who see it as a weakness and press harder. That is when the wildlings attack. The giants unseen in the battle for generations are an unexpected force that shatters the enemy line. They are dressed in male shirts and wielding clubs. They send shock waves through the invading armies and sweep through them. The wildlings fight with savage fury, unrelenting in their charge, matching the Dothraki's ferocity. But while they are committed to the battle, the Northmen suddenly spring forward and unleash the rage that was building throughout the battlefield. While Renley's men sally forth and strike them from the rear, the Dornish and Dothraki forces are routed. Forced to retreat to secure positions deeper within the reach. Well done, my friend. Seems like Stannis's lessons have paid off. So, what is our next move? I didn't sail north just to save a castle. I came to upend the battle. Then, we should strike the Reach. Most of their forces are committed north to invading the Riverlands. If we hit them in the rear, we can coordinate with Robert. Hammer and anvil. It is a rather small hammer. Maybe. But perhaps we don't need to commit ourselves to war. I think I might be able to convince the Tyrells to reconsider their alliance. Their victory outside Storm's End rallies the Stormlanders, who rush to aid Renley and whose castles are liberated one by one. With their combined armies, the force strikes into the reach, leaving one and the giants to scatter the defenders at Bitterbridge. From there, the army raids and burns the villages untouched by the Dothraki, hitting their supply line. The few outr rididers who survive to report what happened bring tale of great beasts taller than any of their horses. Men in furs and bronze who are unafraid of the Dothraki. With this attack, they are cut off from Dorne, which they keep bottled up. The reachmen who attack them focus on defending their castles, but Renley uses that to his advantage, negotiating with them one by one and isolating the hardliners who refuse to surrender. He also makes a bold suggestion, proposing a marriage alliance between himself and Marjorie Tyrell. The Tyrells considerate, knowing that such a union could end the war and ensure their influence in court regardless of who wins. However, Viserius orders them to refuse it and decides to focus his war on the Riverlands, committing everything to smash Robert's host. The battle unfolds in Stonypt, where Robert rallies his remaining men in preparation for this fight. The battlefield becomes a sea of chaos as the first Dothraki charge. Their horses swift and cutting down knights before they can lower their lances. Behind them, Reachmen and Dornishmen rush through the gaps. The Dornish men fight fiercely, their spears clashing against the armor of the Westerosi Knights, while the Reach's forces form disciplined shield walls to hold the line. In the center, Robert wields his Warhammer, trying to close the gap. But the strength he once had is failing, and now he struggles to fight, relying more on his king's guard to protect him. They hold for a time, but more and more warriors pour through the gap. It is impossible to staunch the tide. To his left, the rivermen clash with the Dornish, trading arrows and spear volleys as small bands of men rush in between them, trying to break the line. To his right, the Veilmen and Reachmen have turned their side into a whirlwind of movement as their cavalry forces clash. Then, at the height of the battle, Daron arrives with his forces. His host, a mix of Northmen and Stormlanders, and even wildlings, flanks the enemy from the rear, catching them off guard. giants. Their massive forms towering over the battlefield, hurled boulders into the enemy ranks, scattering them like leaves in the wind. The tide of battle shifts dramatically as Daron's forces push forward, severing the enemy's formation and forcing them into chaos. Viseris, seeing his forces crumbling, rallies what remains of his loyalists and attempts to reach Robert himself, believing that if he can kill the usurper, he can still claim victory. But Robert sees him coming. With a triumphant bellow, Robert meets Viserius in the heart of the battlefield. The clash is brief. One swing of Robert's Warhammer sends Viseris sprawling, his golden crown cracking against the mud. The last Targaryen prince gasps in pain. But before he can plead for mercy, Robert brings his hammer down a final time, ending his life. Cal Drogo, unbroken even in the face of defeat, rides through the battlefield, cutting down all in his path. Is a rock dripping with blood. He locks eyes with Robert and charges, seeking the greatest warrior among the usurper's ranks. But Sir Barristan intercepts him. Their duel is fierce. Steel clashing against curved blades. Drogo's speed and savagery nearly overcomes the old knight, but Sir Barristan's strength and experience went out. A crushing blow to the chest sends Drogo to the ground. With a final strike, the king's guard kills the great call. The remaining Dothraki leaderless and scattered flee or surrender. With the battle won, the dead and dying litter the field. Robert finds Daron. For the first time, there is no contempt in his gaze, only pride. He places a heavy hand on Dhon's shoulder and nods. You did well. Seven L's. Better than well. You won this battle. I should have said that long ago. You've said it now, you grace. I know the years have been difficult. Enough with the excuses. I made the years hard on myself. I should have let you help long ago. You were not my son, but I damned well wish you were. Let me at least make things right by saying this. You are my heir. If you mean that, there is one thing I must ask. The long night. Really? Now, it's not a rumor or a fantasy. I've seen the effects myself. Why do you think these wildlings are here with me? Damn. So, it is true. All this time, I've wished Ra was just some mad fool. All right. He turns to his men. All right, listen up. This boy here is my heir. He says there is trouble brewing up north, and I believe him. So, we're marching north right now to save Ned Stark's ass. If any of you have a problem with that, you're free to join the Dothraki back across the narrow sea. A cheer goes up in the crowd as they raise their swords in the air. Stannis watches, unreadable, but escorts Daenerys towards them. I do not want war with you. You are Rhaegar's sister, and you deserve to live in peace. Stay in Westeros if you wish, or find another home. The choice is yours. Help us fight and I shall ensure you live your days in peace. Daenerys looks over the battlefield. The bodies of those who had followed her brother now lay motionless in the mud. A distant look passes over her face. There is a place, a house with a red door in Braavos. I wish to go home there. Then it shall be so. The wind howls like a living thing, carrying with it an unnatural chill that sinks deep into the bones of men. The wall has been unyielding for thousands of years. Now stands fractured, its defenses shattered by a sound that has not been heard in living memory. The horn of winter has been blown, its call echoing across the frozen expanse. As the White Walkers advanced through the empty northern landscape, they found it half buried and long forgotten in the Fist of the First Men. And with its sound, the White Walkers advance. Even as fear grips the hearts of those gathering, Lyanna Stark holds firm. She does not wield a sword, nor does she dawn armor, but she is the heart of their defense. She rides up and down the lines, rallying Northmen, knights watchmen, and wildlings alike. She speaks not just to their sense of survival, but their honor, their duty. Old grudges are buried beneath the urgency of this moment. These are not wildlings, not crows, not northerners. These are the last defenders of the living. And if they fall here, all is lost. The first wave slams into them like a storm. Whites, their eyes burning with cold fire, crash against shields and swords, clawing, biting. The Night's Watch, once sworn to hold this line alone, fights now beside those they once called enemies. Giants swing massive clubs, sending whites flying like broken dolls. Direwolves tear through the ranks of the dead. Their howls mingling with the screams of battle. Lyanna does not falter. She is there in every moment, ensuring the wounded are pulled back, the fires stay lit, and the men do not break. She picks up a sword from a fallen ranger and helps defend against the onslaught, but the dead do not tire. And for every white cut down, another rises. It is not a battle of strength, but a battle of endurance. And endure the living do. They endure the chilling nights, the terrible noises the dead unleash, and the horrors of battle that await them all in the hopes that Robert and Don will arrive. It lasts for weeks, and despite everything they have prepared, the cracks begin to show. Though Ned does everything he can to help prepare them, they struggle to hold the dead back. All along the wall, portions of it fall as the living numbers deplete. Soon, it becomes clear that they cannot hold the dead forever. Some urge Lyanna to flee and regroup in Winterfell, but she refuses. She knows her son is coming, and she knows it is her responsibility. She had allowed Rhaegar to do horrible things, but she will at least make sure they are not for nothing. Gripping her sword, she hears the gates of Castle Black begin to buckle. She raises it over her head, preparing to fight whatever comes. But then horns sound behind them. Banners whip in the frigid air. The stag of Baratheon, the direwolf of Stark, the flaming heart of Rolar, and the dragon of Targaryen fly together. Robert Baratheon rides at the forefront. His Warhammer raised high. Stannis, grim as ever, commands his men with the unyielding precision. The remnants of Daenerys's host stand beside him. And at the heart of it all, Daron Targaryen leads the charge. his sword raised above his head. As the dead break through the gates, they meet them head-on. Knights of the Reach and Riverlands cleave through the whites with shining blades. Dornish spearmen thrust their spears forward and stand beside stormlanders in a shield wall. Northmen and freefolk fight side by side, the fires of their torches and the heat of their fury pushing back the cold. Even a few Ironborn rush forward, hacking at the dead. Malisandre stands at top a ridge, her voice raised in incantation, summoning flames to consume the dead. The battle rages for hours, the ice of the land turning slick with blood, both red and black. The white walkers themselves emerge, spectral figures wreathed in frost, their chilling presence sapping the strength of all who come near. One by one they fall, cut down by Valyrian steel and obsidian as per the instructions of Mance. Dron stands amidst the frozen battlefield, his breath forming mist in the frigid air. The Night King approaches, silent, unyielding, his eerie blue eyes glowing like twin beacons of death. The clash is fierce, frost meeting fire. The Night King is impossibly strong. Each strike of his ice forged blade sending shock waves through Darren's bones. But Dron does not falter. He fights with the strength of all who came before him. Of Rhaegar's dream, of Lyanna's unwavering faith, of Robert's grudging respect, and of the thousands who trusted him to lead them. He will not let the dead claim this world. With a final defiant roar, Dron surges forward, dodging a frostlaced slash. His sword gleaming with the heart of life drives through the Night King's heart. The ancient creature lets out no scream, only a whisper of frost and shadow as his body fractures. Cracks spread like lightning, and with a final shudder, the Night King shatters into ice and dust. All around them, his army collapses. The dead crumbling into nothing. The storm breaking at last. The long night has ended. As the armies return home for the first time in years, Lyanna rides south, not as a captive, but to help her son rule to see the man he has grown into. Though he's not king yet, Robert now trusts him as his heir, helping him rule. Meanwhile, Stannis transports Daenerys's forces back across the Narrow Sea, while Renley helps her find the house with the red door. She renounces her claim to the Iron Throne, but remains an honorary member of the nobility, allowed to visit whenever she wishes and granted a generous stipen to live out her days in peace. Ned turns his attention to the land beyond the wall, helping the free folk rebuild their homes there and reclaim the towns lost to them. That's our theory. Westeros is a land filled with exciting stories and possibilities, and we love exploring them. If you want to accompany us on this journey across the seven kingdoms and beyond, then please like, share, and subscribe to our channel.