Chapter 1: Prolog

Last entry of Jacor Scalebreaker's journal

I tell my story so that all Scalebreakers may know the truth of our origins. It is neither one of glory or honor, but one of many regrets and revenge.

As a boy, looking out from my father's castle, I thought the sun could never set on the North, so vast did it seem. Part of me still does. It is by far the largest of the seven kingdoms and can fit the other six within it.

Not that the others care of course. Cold and damp, that's how the southerners see the North, but without the cold a man cannot appreciate the warmth of his hearth. Without the rain a man can't appreciate the roof over his head.

Let the southerners have their flowers and sun, we northerners have home.

Mine was once Winterfell the ancient seat of my… father's family, House Stark. Who have ruled over the North since the First Men and were once the Kings of Winter. Until the coward Aegon Targaryen set his eyes upon the North and beset his Dragons upon us. Torrhen Stark, the Last King of the North, and my father bent the knee that day. I did not.

By the time I was a man I had been constantly reminded about my status as a 'Snow.' My father resented me, his wife loathed me, and my half-brother ignored me. Only my half-sister Liya Stark cared for me within the walls of Winterfell. She had the kindest heart, but the fiercest and most stubborn personality. I don't know why she decided to care for me, but she did and probably more than I deserved.

My story truly started on my eighteenth name day. My father had been receiving letters from southern lords and kings. A man and his sisters from the east were starting to conquer the south upon the backs of creatures of scale and flame. All who bent the knee were conquered and all those who stood tall were burned down.

If my father ever agreed with the Lannisters about anything, it was preserving the family name. So on my nameday Lord Stark gifted me the honor of protecting my half-sister Liya. Little did he know that I had sworn to do just that years ago. Liya raised me, trained me and introduced me to the woman who would become my wife. She was always there to support me. I'd have shamed myself if I didn't keep her safe for that.

As more Kingdoms fell in the south the more my father grew paranoid. So in the name of preserving the Stark bloodline he sent Liya and I to Skyhold.

Many southerners have probably forgotten about the old ruin. I don't blame them. It had been several hundred years since a family held the title of Lord of Skyhold and about eight thousand years since Bran the Builder built it. Bran had created Skyhold before he created the Wall and was meant to be a fortress during the next Long Night. Then he got the idea of building a wall to keep the White Walkers out. Skyhold was Bran's home during the process of building the wall, but he later moved to Winterfell for its more central position.

Since then Skyhold was home to multiple minor families, all of whom failed to realize its potential. Which later led to its fall to ruin.

My father and I saw the potential it held. It was far in the North, almost as far as Queenscrown and hidden in the mountains that lay along the shore of the Bay of Ice. The keep itself was built on a crag island that was connected to the mainland by a large stone bridge. The mountain island kept the sea at bay and produced a calm harbor that could hold a fleet of ships. The hot springs nearby also kept the harbor from freezing and damaging any ships during a Winter.

Skyhold itself, even though it was thousands of years old and abandoned for a few hundred more, was simple in design, but strong and sturdy.

It took time, hard work and a lot of men, but Skyhold became the fortress it was meant to be under Liya's and my care. Many who followed us to Skyhold created a small village next to the natural harbor and a year later Skyhold was a proper lord's castle again.

Then the ravens stopped coming and only the whispers of the occasional refugee informed us of what had happened. The kings of the Westerlands and the Reach had banded together against Aegon and his dragons. From that day on everyone in Westeros understood the Targaryen's words "Fire and Blood." Thousands of men died from the flames of the beasts that Aegon commanded.

The banners were called the day after news reached my father and every able-bodied man took up a sword and marched with him.

Skyhold's army, that was meant to protect Liya, was reduced to a fraction of the number it once held. I never blamed the men for leaving, but all the same it sealed our fates.

As my father marched south to the Trident, the Targaryens made their own move. Who knew a dragon so large could be so silent?

In the dead of night one of Aegon's sisters stole my sister from her bed and flew her off to the south. By the time I was alerted, Liya was gone.

I immediately prepared to sail for the Trident to help my father kill the usurper who took my beloved sister. My sons, who were just out of childhood at the time, were to rule in my place. As the sails unfurled a runner from the keep yelled out to stop. He was holding a raven scroll with my father's mark upon it.

What I read that day would lead me and my sons down a dark path that I fear my family may never come back from.

My father had bent the knee and rose no longer King of the North, but Lord of Winterfell. That was not what truly upset me though. Liya was dead, burned by the beast that had carried her away. My father in his grief and horror fell to his knees.

I still loathe my father for that. He should have felt the anger I had and fought for justice… for what honor demanded. Now, after years of hatred, have I come to understand why he didn't, but still his actions only makes him less a man in my eyes and the rest of the North as well. Forever may he be known as the King who knelt.

The scroll had ordered me to Winterfell to attend my sister's funeral and bend the knee to Aegon the Conqueror. I refused.

I may have been a bastard, a Snow, but I was still of Stark blood and I knew many lords of the North were unhappy with my father's surrender. So, I called upon them.

Aegon didn't allow the lords time to reply. He flew to Skyhold and for the first time in my life I knew fear. Not of Aegon, no I would never fear that little white-haired smear of life. I came to know the fear the full glory and might of a dragon.

That is when I bent the knee. I would not subject my sons to Liya's fate. However even as I stared into the beast's eyes the fear did not overcome me. No, anger still held my heart like a vice and I made a silent promise that day as I swore my fealty to Aegon to rid this world of his fire breathing monsters.

The old gods must have felt the same rage that day as I did. Aegon ordered one of his sister-wives to stay in Skyhold to watch over the rebellious heart of the North. Her dragon stayed with her. That was their last mistake.

It took a year, but I studied the dragon for all its weaknesses. Aegon's sister, I had learned was an oblivious fool. How such mighty creatures like dragons ever bowed their heads to the Targaryens I will never understand. It worked in my favor though.

We struck in the dead of night like the Targaryens did when they took Liya. Half of my men went to capture Aegon's witch of a sister. The other half, my sons and me went to kill a dragon.

The dragon was awake when we had gotten to the cave it was being kept in. It had probably sensed our presence long before we started the climb. There was no hiding from a dragon.

I do not remember much from the fight. All of my pent-up rage had been released that day, but from what men survived came a tale far too grand. No doubt they exaggerated the details.

What I do know is that we proved that dragons are not invulnerable. They could be outsmarted and if they could be outsmarted they could be killed. I'll let the bards tell the tale of the battle. Be more entertaining anyway.

I sent a raven to Aegon's new city, Kingslanding. The coward brought every army he could muster, but I held all the cards this time. I held the sword to his sister's throat as Aegon landed on the bridge with his other sister flying overhead on her dragon.

I did not expect the clapping nor the smile on his face. He did not hold anger for the dead dragon nor the capture of his sister. He only recognized and respected me. Of course, he knew I could kill his sister at any time during those talks, but he knew I wouldn't. I, like every northerner, held my honor sacred, Aegon held no such morality; only a greed as large as the Narrow Sea.

Even if I did kill his sister-wife, Aegon would have just burned all of Skyhold to the ground. I could kill one dragon stuck in a cave, but two flying ones with no plan of attack? No, Skyhold would burn.

So I negotiated, my revenge was finished. Aegon took my sister. I took one of his dragons and his illusion of the undefeatable conqueror. I would become Lord of Skyhold and bend the knee to Aegon, return his sister, and my eldest son would marry Aegon's eldest daughter. My wife, Sanah, wasn't happy about that last part, but I was done fighting. True this was like accepting defeat, but better to live today so we could fight another.

The day will come when the Targaryens are at their most weak and we Scalebreakers will be there ready to cut them and their dragons down.

I am Jacor Scalebreaker, first of his name and Lord of Skyhold. I bid my descendants to remember our words "Bent, but never broken."

A.N.

This is not how the rest of the story will be structured in case you, the readers where wondering. The next chapter will pick up close to the first episode of the Series. I hope you enjoyed the background of this story.

Any questions posted in a review or p.m. I will try to answer without giving away any plot. That said, please write a review below and tell me what you think.

Also, a special thanks to my new Beta for helping me edit this piece! Without him a lot of the grammar would have been far worse.