Alright here's the next chapter hope everyone is having a good time. I'm going to take a moment to answer a few questions.

Keep in mind that I'll be taking things from different lord of the rings sources so it's not all canon material. It comes from the games, the movies, and the books.

With that being said.

Abrams 1559: You aren't wrong there are seven balrog. Three are sided with Aegon and Lilith. (One being the revived Gothmog) One is sealed away under Angmar, one is sealed away under mordor, one is dead, and one is unaccounted for. There's your seven my friend.

Dscot: No one is getting out of this unscathed, enemies will suffer, and be dominated or killed, neither Aegon nor Lilith tolerate dissidence within their ranks.

Dominus1389: That's an excellent idea. I'll have to keep that in mind.

38Solaire38: I'm sure the White Council will be terrified out of their minds when they hear that she's back. Saruman has always had a darker streak to him, he's always been prideful and selfish, I don't see that changing.

K if you guys have any questions let me know I try to answer in pm, but I'll also start answering at the start of chapters if you'd like me to, so let me know if you have any questions or suggestions. Otherwise let's get this show on the road.

Darkness Reborn

Chapter 15: The Advance of Shadows.

-King's Landing-

Troubling news had rattled the city. Word had reached them that an army was burning it's way across the Reach. Thousands were fleeing into King's Landing, the city had swelled to it's absolute limit now to the point where the streets were becoming a labyrinth of tents as people just chose to camp outside, since there was no room anywhere.

Word had reached the king's ear that a giant led an army of nearly ten thousand south across the Reach, setting fire to every village that they encountered. The speed of this army was incredible, they wasted no time in storming across the open plains of the Reach, their goal wasn't difficult to surmise. They were headed for Bitterbridge. The bridge sat on the Roseroad, and had been used to ferry food to King's Landing. If the road fell, the Crownlands would starve.

News of this invasion left the lords and ladies reeling, every day of court was a cavalcade of questions, demanding answers about what was going to be done.

The Tyrell and Lannister armies were both stationed in the Crownlands, and Willas Tyrell had been commanded to raise another army in the Reach. The choice was obvious that one of these three forces would have to defend the Roseroad. The issue in that, was the attack from the northwest. Raiding forces had been striking out from Harrenhal. If the armies moved south to secure their supply lines, than the raiders would push deep into the Crownlands.

Compounding the issue was that the Westerlands were being invaded. The same army that was pushing south across the Reach had seized the Gold Road, severing the Westerlands from the Crownlands.

With access to the Westerlands cut off, no reinforcements were coming from there, so the Lannisters had no way to reinforce. News was also becoming scarce from the Westerlands, they hadn't received a raven from Casterly Rock in weeks, not since the final raven reported that Aegon Targaryen's army was preparing an attack on Lannisport.

So now the Lannister-Tyrell alliance did not know what to do. Mace Tyrell seemed adamant about moving to secure Bitterbridge, but Tywin cautioned patience, as he feared acting without knowing exactly what they were dealing with.

All of the information they had received had been from fleeing farmers, and peasants, or from Varys' little birds. Those reports claimed that a giant was leading this second army, and this army was nearly ten thousands strong and filled with man-eating monsters.

Right now, Tywin intended to send scouts to Bitterbridge to see if they even still held it anymore. Ravens that were sent there, weren't returning, and he feared that the enemy may have already taken the crossing.

A very nasty day at court had managed to draw people's minds away from the coming disaster. Joffrey had thrown another tantrum when pressed for assurances that the city would not starve again.

Now the court sat anxiously quiet while the king brooded. This quiet brooding was interrupted when a guard came rushing in.

"Your grace!" The guard raced forward, stopping several yards before the line of Lannister men, and Kingsguard.

Joffrey stared down at the man, his eyebrows lifting curiously.

"Speak." Joffrey said in a huff.

"An envoy has arrived with Genna Lannister. They've come to turn her over to your custody." The guard informed him.

Joffrey looked confused and glanced over at his mother, who's eyes widened in surprise and she sat forward in her chair. She sent a glance towards one of the nearby Lannister men and mouthed for him to fetch Tywin.

"See them in." Joffrey commanded as he straightened up in his throne.

A few seconds later, a godawful sight was guided into the room.

Gasps rang out as a bound, and gagged, Genna Lannister was dragged into the room. She was accompanied by a Lannister servant, whom was also bound and gagged. Neither looked to have been harmed, and seemed to be in good condition, despite their long days of traveling.

The sight of the sister of Tywin Lannister bound and gagged, was not the only thing that shocked the crowd. Leading her along was a troop of monstrous creatures. A dozen vile and twisted orcs, lead by a lumbering and fat orc. The creature had a distinct under-bite that revealed a mouth of razor sharp teeth. His skin was a blotchy dark purple, and his eyes were puke green. The creatures all carried a scent of death about them, a smell that immediately assaulted the noses of those within the court. They marched through the crowd as all of the Kingsguard drew their swords, as well as every Lannister soldier in the room. Jaime Lannister who had now returned to the capital and his position as a Kingsguard, stood at base of the Iron Throne, staring down at the beasts with concern.

"What is the meaning of this?" Tyrion muttered, his eyes locked on the fearful look of his aunt. A woman who was often so composed and dignified, she looked terrified, and exhausted. Tyrion had never seen his aunt like that before, and it was a sight that would haunt him for weeks.

Cercei overheard his words and shook her head slowly, her eyes fearfully locked onto the monsters that guided her aunt forward. Cercei couldn't help but recall everything she'd heard about the monsters burning their way across the reach. Man-eaters, people had said. She had no doubt in her mind that these monsters were very much capable of such an atrocity.

"Joffrey Pinkskin. I come by the bidding of the great King of men and orc, Aegon Targaryen. My lord offers you these women, as a sign of good faith." The lead orc stated, as the troop came to a halt a few yards before the line of soldiers guarding Joffrey.

Joffrey stared down at the creature with fear in his eyes. This thing was monstrous, and inhuman. It was like something out of a nightmare. The other orcs around it looked no better. All of them sickly and vile. Devilish creatures, that openly growled, and sneered at the surrounding lords and ladies.

"What is the meaning of this?" Came the strong tone of Tywin Lannister. He marched into the chamber alongside two of his personal Kingsguard, passing by the troop.

For a moment he paused to glance at Genna who met his gaze with fear in her eyes.

After a moment, Tywin proceeded onward. His two guards joining the others, while he stepped up next to the throne and stared down at the orc troop, his gaze hard and piercing.

"Ah, the true power in King's Landing. As I said, I am here at my lord's bidding to offer these two as proof of my King's generosity and good faith." The orc captain began, tugging forward Genna and her servant. Both women had their hands unbound by the orcs and they were shoved forward, into the Kingsguard.

The guards grabbed them and shuffled them behind them. Genna quickly ripped the gag out of her mouth and stumbled up the steps, making her way over to Tyrion and Cercei, all the while glancing at her brother.

Tyrion met his aunt halfway, taking her hand and motioning for a guard to help her. It was obvious that she had been on her feet for a while, and could barely stand let alone walk. Despite how tired she way, she wanted nothing more than to get away from the monstrous creatures. Her servant simply laid on the steps, too tired to move.

"Is this all you've come for?" Tywin asked after a moment of silence.

"Ah… not all." The orc replied, and pulled free a tattered, muddy, Lannister banner that had been stuffed into a sack. He held it up for all to see before casting it to the ground. "Your castle has fallen. Your men are dead. Your lands belong to us now. My king extends to you an offer. A trade. The life of Kevan Lannister, for Sansa Stark. You are to deliver her to the meeting place outside of the city, there Kevan Lannister will be waiting. The two will be traded, a life for a life. My king says that so long as Robb Stark lives, Sansa Stark is useless to you. She has no worth, so accept the trade, a little girl, for a seasoned knight, with valuable information on your enemies."

Silence filled the court as many shared glances with one another, or let out gasps.

Among those in the crowd, Sansa Stark stood, her eyes widening in surprise as she heard the creature's demand.

Tywin sent a small glance towards Genna. His sister offered him a nod, to show that the orc was telling the truth. They had Kevan, and Casterly Rock had fallen.

Tyrion shook his head at that, and shared a glance with Cercei. Her eyes were wide in disbelief. She couldn't fathom what could have possibly brought down the mighty castle that she had once called home.

"Where would this meeting take place?" Tywin asked after a few moments.

"To the west of the city, ten miles. There's a small clearing off the side of the Gold Road. Thirty of your men to be met by thirty of ours. The girl, for the knight. You have three days." The orc replied.

"What happens in three days?" Joffrey asked.

"We stopped giving him water this morning, pinkskin. You figure it out." The orc replied, earning dark chuckles from his comrades.

"We will discuss this. Leave us." Tywin commanded, his voice ringing with authority.

The orcs let out hisses and sneered at him, but quickly departed. They offered the surrounding lords, some fright inducing looks, drawing out the fear in them as they moved out of the room.

Within minutes, the King's Small Council was assembled within the Small Council chamber. Genna Lannister having been brought in, with Jaime and Cercei attending as well.

"Is it true, Aunt Genna? Have they taken the Rock?" Tyrion was the first to ask.

"It was like nothing I'd ever seen. The Lion's Mouth fell into the ocean. The earth rose up to the walls and they just walked right over. Monsters and dragons, and those… things! They slaughtered thousands. Burned Lannisport first, constructed massive siege engines in hours, and brought the walls down by nightfall. The port burned, and then they came for us. Washed over the castle in hours..." Genna muttered, her voice hollow and distant.

Everyone listened in as she spoke, not knowing what to make of her words.

"She's in shock." Jaime began, knowing that it wasn't possible for the Rock to fall in only hours. Nor was it possible for the earth to lift up in such a manner.

"He killed Emmon! Called him forth after he took the castle. Cut his throat where he stood. The boy is vicious! The vile cruelty is his eyes. It was like nothing I'd ever seen. There was a monstrous trait about him. In his eyes I saw the Mountain's cruelty, your cunning, and the grace of Rhaegar Targaryen." Genna stated, turning her gaze towards Tywin.

The Hand of the King sat quietly, listening to her words. His face was stone cold, showing no emotions. Only those who had known Tywin the longest could see that internally, he was fuming.

"How could the castle have fallen so quickly? They had provisions for years, the Lion's Mouth ensures that anything other than a straight assault would fail." Jaime pressed her.

"Didn't you hear me?! The Lion's Mouth was destroyed! Like in the stories about the Children of the Forest. It collapsed in on itself, and then the ground lifted up and slid into the ravine, forming a land bridge right up to the top of the walls. The defenders on the outermost layers, were completely broken by the power on display. Aegon Targaryen led the charge into the castle. He cut down two hundred men, before the battle was over. They say a sorceress fights by his side. A being from beyond the Wall. Something monstrous and evil, that bred his army of beasts! The Young Wolf fought at his side, as well as two great wolves. Both absolutely monstrous, the size of horses they were. And dragons. A number of them. He had dragon riders too. Figures in black cloaks, they sat upon these vicious creatures, scored the walls with their talons, took our men into the sky only to rain their bodies down onto those left behind. They had giants fighting with them, massive creatures that took hails of arrows and just kept coming. The skies darkened as the army marched on us, and the sun didn't rise until after the castle fell..." Genna explained, her voice trembling with fear and terror. They could all see it in her eyes, she was absolutely mortified.

"That isn't possible." Maester Pycelle stated.

"Not possible? I saw it with my own two eyes! I saw the earth bend and twist to the whim of that sorceress. I saw her. Saw her sat at the table of our family. Skin as pale as freshly fallen snow, hair as black as night, and her eyes… like fire, burning within them. Hellish with monstrous delight. I saw her smile as the Dragon-Wolf cut Emmon's throat. I can still feel his blood slashing across my face!" Genna snapped in response, her knuckles turning white as she glared at the Grand Maester.

"The Castle and Lannisport have fallen." Tywin surmised the absolute of the situation. Knowing that nothing less, would have shaken his sister so.

"I can't believe this." Jaime muttered to himself with a shake of his head.

"And now the Dragon-Wolf wants his cousin back." Tyrion stated, after several long moments of silence.

"Yes. We traveled here together, they have Kevan." Genna responded as she tried to regain her composure.

"Why would he give us someone with knowledge of his forces, knowledge that could aid us in fighting against him, just to get back one of his cousins?" Jaime wondered aloud.

"The Starks are a tight-nit group. Plus, he doesn't see her as his cousin they were raised as siblings. Not to mention that Robb Stark is one of his biggest supporters. Getting Sansa back will secure Northern loyalty and cement his grasp on the North and the Riverlands." Tyrion replied, Tywin nodding in agreement.

"No, we can't give her back. She's the only thing stopping him from using his dragons to burn down King's Landing. We give her back, we'll have no shield to stop him." Cercei stated, her warning also earning nods of agreement, one from Tywin, Maester Pycelle, and Mace Tyrell.

"We cannot simply hand Sansa Stark over to them, even as a trade for Kevan. She is our only means to keeping his dragons at bay, and we need all of the time that her position here, offers us." Tywin began, his words earning wounded looks from Tyrion and Genna, neither of whom liked the idea of leaving Kevan in the enemy's grasp.

"So do we simply allow the allotted time to run out? Do we leave him to die of dehydration?" Tyrion asked, allowing his offense at the notion of abandoning his uncle to show in his words.

"No. He is a Lannister. If the dragonspawn wishes to tempt us, than we will show him our resolve." Tywin responded, his gaze hard and calculating. The loss of Westerlands and Casterly Rock was a severe blow to the Lannister name. Something had to be done to save face, or else the dragonspawn would have the support of all those who hated the Lannisters, long before he ever marched on the Capital.

-Later-

Ser Kevan sat tied to a post within a tent. His body ached, and he had trouble keeping awake.

He was left mostly alone within the tent, though occasionally a large ugly Uruk would enter and torment him for a short while. Yelling at him, berating him, occasionally beating him. Kevan hadn't seen a friendly face in days, it felt like.

They hadn't given him any water in over a day, and he was starting to feel delirious from the heat.

He was starting to hear his father's voice, it was almost like he was whispering something to him, but Kevan couldn't make out what it was he was saying.

He heard the tent flaps open and a heavy breathing filled his ears. He lifted his gaze to the towering form of the Uruk that had been his personal tormentor for the majority of this trip.

"Seems your brother has sent his reply. My scouts spotted several armored knights slipping out of city under cover of darkness. They're on their way here. My guess is that they'll attack us just before dawn. I would if I were them." The Uruk said to him. Kevan let out a tired chuckle at that. He knew his brother was ruthless and the chances that he would make such a trade were slim to none. Despite the benefits, dealing with the dragonspawn would legitimize his position as a rival, and weaken the Lannister name further. Tywin wasn't about to let that happen.

"So what now? Do you intend to slit my throat and leave me for them to find?" Kevan inquired, finding the idea almost comforting.

"No, pinkskin. The Dark Lord has plans for you. Death would be too quick." The Uruk replied with a vicious smirk as it untied his hands and hauled him to his feet.

The Uruk then proceeded to drag the tired knight out of the tent. Kevan quickly took note of his surroundings. He was in the midst of a dimly lit camp. Several tents filled his surroundings. A pack of orcs was hastily gathering a group of prisoners and forcing them into rough armor, matching that which the orcs wore.

Screams erupted from the troop of men as wooden weapons were nailed into their hands, and then the nails were bent, making it near impossible for the man to let go of the weapon.

Kevan saw this and a dread built within his gut. They were dressing up Lannister men as their own, forcing them to carry weapons, and then cutting out their tongues. Screams were soon replaced by mad gargles of terrors and pain.

"Your brother is coming to get you, I wonder how many he'll kill before he realizes our little switch." The Uruk tutted, letting out a maddening chuckle.

"You are a foul monster!" Kevan spat, before being tossed to the ground.

"Good to hear. I like having that effect on people." The Uruk responded as it drew a long straight dagger. The same dagger than had been given to him by the Witch King.

"Welcome to the winning side, Ser Knight!" The Uruk offered in cheer before stabbing Ser Kevan in the gut with the blade.

Kevan let out a gasp as a burning pain shot through him. He felt the tip of the blade snap off in his gut as the Uruk pulled the blade free and tossed it into the mud.

After a few seconds, the blade itself turned to dust, a sight that caused Kevan's blood to run cold as the pain in his gut grew worse.

"Let's get going boys. Time to head back!" The Uruk commanded, urging the rest of his troop to finish with their work and depart the camp.

As they vanished into the surrounding forest, Kevan Lannister was left to bleed in the mud alongside other survivors from Casterly Rock.

The pain in his gut grew worse until eventually he was unable to draw his thoughts away from it. His vision eventually began to blur as his veins began to burn and the pain of a hot knife being sliced up through his guts, filled his senses.

Soon he was gasping as the sound of hooves trampling the dirt, filled the area. Followed swiftly by arrows cutting through the air, and piercing several of the maimed Lannister men in orc disguises.

The sounds continued to grow louder and louder as the trampling of horses shook the ground around Kevan's writhing form.

He heard shouting reach his ears and hands on his body, everything was beginning to feel so cold. He could barely see anything other than vague shapes now, and the pain was getting worse.

Ser Kevan felt himself being lifted up, and that was the last thing he could recognize as the world grew dark and he lost consciousness.

-Later-

"Do we know what his affliction is?" Tywin inquired as he stared down at his brother's trembling form.

"I uh- I've never seen this type of poison before my Lord. I am consulting with some of my notes, to see if there's anything that may give me some clue as to what's afflicting him. His wound is festering in a most unnatural way." Maester Pycelle noted as he examined Ser Kevan's body.

"He knew we were going to refuse." Jaime noted as he stood beside his father.

"And he left a trap to embarrass us. Those were Lannister men he maimed and left as targets for our attack. The boy is far less green than we anticipated." Tywin replied, his eyes cold as he stared down at his brother.

"How is he doing?" Came the inquiry from Cersei as she entered into the maester's laboratory.

"Not well." Jaime replied as his eyes fell onto his uncle's wound. The skin around it had turned gray, and his veins were running a dark purple. Slowly his uncle's eyes were beginning to turn white, as the color faded from them.

"Is there anything that can be done for him? Anything to ease his pain?" Cersei asked.

"None of my remedies seem to do anything to the pain. He is fading quickly and will not last for long. If I knew what poison was used on him, perhaps I could manage something, but as it stands, I do not know what is afflicting him." Maester Pycelle responded.

"Perhaps Qyburn should take a look?" Cersei suggested after a moment of silence.

Tywin was quick to offer a nod of agreement, even as Pycelle began to protest.

"He is my brother, Grand Maester. I will afford him whatever care he requires in order to survive. If you cannot treat him, I will find someone who can." Tywin replied, his voice stern as he dressed down the Maester.

"I'm hoping you have a plan, with how we're to respond to this. Whispers are already spreading that the West has fallen." Jaime said quietly to his father.

"A plan is slowly forming. For now we must ensure that our position here is secure. We now know of two things that the dragonspawn wants. The throne and his cousin. We have both, now we simply need to devise a way to use both against him." Tywin replied, as he turned and headed out of the room, leaving behind a final command for him to be informed the moment Kevan's condition changed.

-Elsewhere-

Sansa Stark sat quietly staring at herself in the mirror. Ever since hearing news about Jon, about him being a Targaryen, and her cousin, and the rightful king, she'd felt confused, but also elated. Her idea of a knight in shining armor had long since been shattered by King's Landing the people who lived there, but Jon was still something she believed in, someone she believed in. On top of everything, despite all that he was doing, he was still thinking about her. The fact that he'd be willing to trade a seasoned knight, someone like Ser Kevan Lannister, for her, proved that he was still thinking about her and that he still cared.

She couldn't help but smile at the thought, and the hope that he would avenge their family's suffering, and return all of her suffering onto Joffrey and his family.

At the thought of vengeance, she felt a heat pass through her veins, and her hands curled into fists unconsciously. When the time came for the Lannisters to pay, she hoped that Jon allowed their suffering to endure.

-Two Days Later-

Qyburn worked tirelessly over the body of Ser Kevan Lannister, studying the effects of whatever unknown poison was used on him. Nothing could be done to ease the man's pain, nor could any cure be located. Further and further, the knight seemed to fade, until his skin was as pale as the moon, and his eyes were a milky white. Despite being an old man already, Ser Kevan had seemingly aged thirty years or so over the course of a few days. He was thin, and frail, with the only coloring he possessed, being that of his veins, which bulged and held a deep purple coloring. Any attempts to extract blood revealed a black, oily substance, that reeked of rotten meat.

Qyburn had effectively taken over Maester Pycelle's laboratory as he labored over Ser Kevan, studying his affliction and what was happening to him. Here today, he could finally say for certain that this was no mere poison. The studious former maester knew this could only be some sort of vile sorcery.

He had told as much to Cersei and her father, warning them that whatever was used on Ser Kevan, had no ordinary cure.

Other than the occasional gasp for air, Ser Kevan made no other noise. His family came to visit him, but none could stand to look at him for long. Maester Pycelle had already offered his suggestion that Ser Kevan be put out of his misery. A diagnosis that Qyburn agreed with, now that he'd conducted his own studies. Countering sorcery wasn't possible, without some sort of sorcery of your own, and despite his curiosity to see what would happen if such methods were employed, Qyburn was far more curious to see what would become of Kevan Lannister, when this darkness was finished running it's course.

Would he simply continue to wither until he was naught but bones and flesh? The man was already close to such a state. Qyburn was eager to see what the end of this vile sorcery would be.

Qyburn stared down at a small patch of flesh that had been removed from Ser Kevan's body for examination. He was studying it, when he felt an unease enter into his heart. The feeling of dread that suddenly gripped him was enough to shock him out of his observations and caused him to tremble.

It was late into the night, and the laboratory was dimly lit by candlelight. The fluttering of cloth, touched at the man's ears, and he suddenly felt a presence within the room with him. It felt as though something was standing right behind him.

Slowly Qyburn reached for a nearby candlestick. He held it close as he slowly rose to his feet. The feeling of dread that tug as his senses, grew. He felt a chill pass through his body, and all parts of him seemed to run cold as he slowly turned around to gaze out across the supposedly empty laboratory.

Qyburn expected to find someone waiting there, but his eyes beheld nothing. No person stood in the room, no one else was there except for him. He stared out across the room, uncertain and unnerved, when his eyes suddenly fell onto a curious sight.

Slowly, Qyburn made his way across the room. Each step seemed to magnify the feeling of terror, as he approached the resting place of Kevan Lannister. The man had been laid out on a padded bed, that had been brought into the room. He hadn't moved from that spot since arriving, and yet, to Qyburn's uncertainty and dread, the bed was now empty, the blankets pushed aside.

Qyburn stared down at the empty bed for several long moments before turning his gaze out to the rest of the room.

Using the candle as a means to illuminate the darkness his eyes were quickly drawn to something that caused him to freeze.

There, standing in the center of the room was a shadow. Invisible to the eye, though Qyburn could see the shadow of a man spread out across the floor, from his own candlelight.

To his surprise and terror, the shadow moved, shifting as if to look at him.

Nothing was there, and yet he could clearly see the shadow upon the ground.

Qyburn didn't know what to make of it, that shadow just seemed to hover there before suddenly it moved. Qyburn watched as the shadow strode away, marching up the steps that led to the exit.

To the amazement of the former maester, the door to the laboratory opened, signifying that the shadow could interact with the physical world, and it quickly departed.

With it's departure, the overwhelming feeling of dread, seemingly left with it, though an aura of cold fear remained hanging in the air, almost like an after-effect.

"Amazing." Qyburn muttered as he slowly began to follow after the shadow.

The castle slumbered as the shadow made it's way through it. It moved unseen to the armory, where two guards stood, both half-asleep. Both men were roused from their boredom as a feeling of dread overtook them, and they shared a look with one another, both noticing that the other felt the same unnatural feeling.

"What the hell is that?" One asked the other.

"No clue, it feels like..." The other began only to stop as his eyes fell to his comrades sword which was rising out of it's sheath, he slowly pointed at the sword, as it drew free from the scabbard, the other guard turning his gaze to the floating sword that hung in the air before him.

"Ghost!" He began to cry out, only for the blade to lash out, slicing into his throat.

A scream of fear erupted from the other guard as he began to draw his own sword, only for the blade to strike out at him as well. The blade was driven hard into his open helm, piercing him in the eye and killing him instantly.

Blood spilled across the floor, as the key to the armory lifted free from one of the two corpses.

The armory was open, and the shadow entered in. Diligently, it began to arm itself.

The wraith of Kevan Lannister dawned a familiar armor. The armor of the Lannister soldier, something that was recognizable to him, and wouldn't immediately draw attention. The infamous armor of house Lannister. The armor itself, allowed the wraith to appear almost completely normal, especially in the dark. Only when someone got close could they see the absence of a head beneath the helmet.

Taking a fresh sword, the wraith departed the armory, heading out into the castle to fulfill it's goal.

Meanwhile, Qyburn quietly made his way through the halls, following the cold feeling of dread in the air. Any time he would pass a guard or a servant, discussing the strange chill that seemed to permeate the area he would warn them that an intruder was within the castle, and that they should inform others.

It wasn't long before a contingent of guards began to follow the former maester, many of whom didn't quite understand what he was following, but were nonetheless convinced of the validity of his claims, when his path led them to the armory, where two fresh corpses awaited them.

"Inform the king!" One guard shouted, as they quickly began to spread out, each one searching for the unknown intruder.

Over the course of the following minutes, the royal family was gathered in the throne room, the Kingsguard and a contingent of Lannister men, stood ready to defend the room from attack.

Tywin was the second to last to be escorted in, the only one remaining was Tommen. He arrived just as fresh reports arrived that more bodies had been discovered.

"What is happening!" Joffrey demanded.

"An Assassin is in the castle, your grace. Some of our men are already dead." One of the Kingsguard answered.

Joffrey went quiet at that, and slowly began to pace.

"I want this assassin found, immediately." Tywin commanded to a contingent of guards. Earning nods, they quickly headed out, intent on tracking the assassin down.

Elsewhere in the castle, the wraith of Kevan Lannister, held a guard by the throat.

"Please, don't hurt me!" The young man begged as a blade was pressed to his throat.

"Stark! Sansa Stark!" The wraith demanded.

"She's probably been taken to the throne room with her husband. That's where you'll find her." The man explained, trying desperately to stay alive.

The wraith stared down at him for a long moment before releasing him and marching away.

Moving through the castle were three Lannister guards who were escorting Tommen to the Throne Room. He had been up late and down in the kitchens searching for something to eat, when the castle suddenly came alive with activity.

The guards made their through a hallway, closing in on the throne room when from the shadows of a side hall, a figure wearing their armor emerged.

"Come quick! We must get the prince to the Throne Room." One of the guards demanded, sparing the figure a half glance.

A flash of steel was the last thing he saw as his head was separated from his shoulders.

The remaining two guards shoved Tommen behind them as they focused on their attacker.

A loud screech filled the air as the wraith advanced on the two, causing both to stumble back in terror, one man even dropping his sword.

The remaining armed guard let out a terrified scream, and tried to swing his sword at the entity, which they now realized did not have a face beneath it's armored helm.

His strike was blocked and a gloved hand grasped his throat. The man quickly lost consciousness as his throat was crushed by the wraith's strength.

He was dropped to the floor, as the remaining guard turned and fled, leaving Tommen behind, cowering and trying to crawl away.

The wraith stared down at the young prince for several moments before following after him.

Tommen was panicking as he heard the footsteps of the terrifying thing close in on him.

He was grabbed by the back of his neck and hauled to his feet.

"Please don't hurt me!" Tommen begged as the entity started to drag him along, placing it's sword at his throat as it did.

Inside of the Throne Room, Cercei was busy demanding to know where her youngest was. Tyrion and Sansa stood side by side watching as everything played out. The main doors into the throne room were suddenly opened as a troop of guards that had been stationed outside, backed into the room, weapons drawn and facing something outside.

This drew all attention in the room, as the guards continue to back up into the room.

Tywin was the first to spot the figure in Lannister armor, holding the prince at sword point.

Cersei soon spotted this as well and started to advance only for Jaime to grab her arm and pull her behind him. He was quick to draw his sword, as were the other Kingsguard.

"Seven hells..." Tyrion muttered as he noticed the absence of a face beneath the helmet of this invader.

"What are you?" Tywin demanded as he too noticed the absence of a body beneath the armor.

"Give me the girl!" The wraith demanded as it pulled Tommen up and held him in front of it like a human shield. It's voice sounded monstrous, a violent hissing from the back of the throat. It sounded like it hurt to speak. The feeling of dread the entity gave off, unnerved almost everyone in the room. Only the stoutest of heart were unaffected by it, such as Tywin Lannister.

"What girl?" Tywin demanded as more guards rushed into the room and surrounded the entity.

"Stark..." The Wraith groaned in response as it pressed the blade harder into Tommen's throat, actually drawing a bit of blood as it did.

Silence permeated the room as Tywin glanced over at Sansa, who stared wide eyed, and in disbelief at the creature.

Tywin returned his gaze to the wraith, and then to the frightened and struggling form of Tommen, held in it's grasp. To lose Tommen would be a dreadful blow to the stability of the realm. He was the spare, after all. If Joffrey were to die, Tommen would guarantee that they still had a rightful claim to the throne. However, if they lost Sansa Stark, they would lose their shield against Aegon and his dragons. Neither prospect was good for them.

"You think we'll simply allow you to take her? You wouldn't make it a hundred yards." Tywin threatened as more guards entered.

"Your threats are meaningless! The darkness demands her! Deliver her to me, or I will sever the boy's head from his body!" The Wraith roared in response as it placed it's free hand on top of Tommen's head, grabbing a fistful of hair.

The young boy let out a cry of pain and fright as his eyes danced between his family members, hoping one of them could save him.

"Sansa..." Tyrion whispered quietly, drawing her attention away from the spectacle and down towards him.

Tyrion looked up at her meeting her gaze, after several long moments he took in a deep breath and offered her his hand.

Understanding dawned on her, and she received his offer. Slowly, Tyrion escorted her through the guards, and before the wraith.

"Tyrion!" Tywin began when he spotted his youngest son.

"What you doing?" Jaime hissed as Tyrion passed him.

"Saving my nephew. Sansa isn't a prisoner anymore, she is my wife. The decision to exchange her in fair trade belongs to me. Only one other man has that authority in the eyes of the gods, so unless the king wishes to see his brother beheaded, I will do what needs to be done." Tyrion responded, throwing a momentary glance at Joffrey, half expecting him to actually demand that Tyrion stop the trade and allow the creature to kill Tommen.

As Tyrion led Sansa forward, the wraith released it's grip on Tommen's hair, moving it's hand to the back of his neck, while it's sword also shifted, going from his throat, to being pointed at his back.

"You want her? Here she is. A life for a life." Tyrion said as he and Sansa paused several feet before the wraith.

"A life for a life. Take the boy, and know that the darkness held him in it's grasp and let him live. Not all are so fortunate." The Wraith hissed in response as it slowly pushed Tommen forward, releasing Tommen's neck and reaching out over his shoulder for Sansa's hand.

"I don't know what this creature has planned for your escape… but do please be careful." Tyrion whispered to Sansa as he released her hand and reached out for Tommen, as the boy was inched closer.

"Thank you, Lord Tyrion. For everything you've done." Sansa offered in response as she reached out and took the Wraith's gloved hand.

Tommen caught Tyrion's hand and immediately pulled away from the wraith, Tyrion backpedaling with him and ushering him towards the guards and up to his mother, who received him with a tearful hug.

The wraith held Sansa's hand for a moment, it's empty helm, staring at her for several long moments.

Sansa stared back, as she felt a darkness pass through where her hand touched it's. This darkness passed up her arm and into her chest. She felt her legs give out and she collapsed onto the ground, the wraith now standing above her, staring down at her.

"The Dark Lord commands thee. Rise, wolf blood. Rise and hunt!" The Wraith hissed down at her, as the darkness circled her heart, and a memory flashed through her mind. The nightmare she had once had, being bitten by Jon, the forest, and the blood. The giant wolf, the howling…

Sansa could hear her own heartbeat, drumming in her ears. Pain started to wrack her body and she let out a cry.

Her cries continued for several long moments as she began to change. Her body shifted, her limbs grew and twisted.

Cries of fear and surprise rose up from the surrounding guards as Sansa Stark transformed into a werewolf, her wolf's blood being fully activated by the power of darkness.

Within moments she tore free from her clothes and assumed her full wolfish form, one that mirrored Aegon's though a bit smaller, and with fur matching her hair color.

"Gods..." Jaime muttered in disbelief.

Many of the guards began to back away in fear as the large wolf-like creature that Sansa had become, now turned it's gaze towards Joffrey and let out a monstrous snarl.

Joffrey let out a frightened whimper as he took several steps back and his Kingsguard tightened formation around him.

Sansa began to advance, snarling louder as she did, only to suddenly stop and turn her gaze out to the west. The wolf perked it's ears, almost like it could hear someone calling out to it.

With a snarl, the wolf began to advanced towards the throne, the wraith trailing by it's side.

Many began to back away, save for Tywin Lannister.

Letting out a howl, the wolf rushed forward, leaping over Tywin and slamming into a cluster of guards, sending a half dozen men to the ground. With another leap, the wolf leaped up onto the Iron Throne, taking hold of several high swords, and using them as leverage to leap up onto the high window overlooking the throne. The wolf easily smashed through the glass the crawled out through the opening.

"The wolves of Winter march upon the kingdoms of men. The Lion and the Stag will fall! Darkness shall reign!" The Wraith hissed drawing the attention of all back to it.

"What are you?" Tywin demanded, asking the creature once more.

"Ser Kevan." Came an answer from the entrance-way. Qyburn stood there, examining the situation.

"Kevan?" Tywin replied, confused.

"The brother you once knew, is dead. I have risen in service to the Witch King." The Wraith hissed in response, his words earning dumbfoundment from all those present, and it broke Tywin out of his domineering stance, momentarily shaking him to his core.

Before any of them could recover from the shock of what they'd just heard, the wraith let out an ear piercing scream, that tore right into the very souls of all those that surrounded it.

Those of the weakest wills, clutched at their ears and fell to the ground screaming. All the rest, could only grit their teeth and try to resist the aura of dread that washed over them.

Using the moment confusion, the wraith tossed down it's sword, and than immediately removed it's helm. Within moments it had unburdened itself of the Lannister armor, the last vestige of clothing dropping to the floor, rendering the creature invisible to the naked eye.

"Your world shall fall. The Dark Lord comes for thee. You cannot run from from it, you cannot escape it. You face death itself. The world of men, is doomed!" The newly born Cargûl, delivered it's final words before retreating unseen from the room, passing by the guards, even shoving a few aside as it simply left, knowing none of them could halt what they could not see.

Silence filled the room as the feeling of dread departed with the wraith, leaving nothing but a haunting emptiness behind.

Tyrion was the first to speak after many long moments of silence, but when he did, his words encapsulated what everyone was thinking to some degree or another. "We're fucked."

-Outside of the city-

"Come on girl… the Dark Lord commands you to go to him." A servant of Aegon said, staring down the reddish werewolf, that was Sansa Stark.

Several men, all disguised as simple peasants stood in a clearing, torches in hand and held before them to ward off the vicious werewolf. The leader of the troop held alongside his torch, a burning glass candle, and from within it, an essence projected outward. Whatever was calling for Sansa, it was coming from this candle.

The wolf drew closer as a voice began to emerge from the candle, audible even to the men around.

Some unknown sorcery passed through the air, causing the werewolf to begin to teeter before falling into a dreamless sleep.

As soon as the werewolf collapsed the men quickly set to work, binding the beast in ropes, and hauling it into the back of a nearby wagon.

"Come on boys, let's deliver the Dark Lord's prize." The leader of the troop commanded as they finished placing the slumbering werewolf into the confines of the wagon and began to head off into the night. They would make their way to Harrenhal, and then Sansa would be taken into the west, where even now, castles began to fall as the army of the Dragon King, surged outward and began cutting down all who resisted the new ruler of the Westerlands.

-Three Days Later, Casterly Rock-

Weeks it had been since the fall of the Westerlands to Aegon and Lilith's army. Lannisport and Casterly Rock were both in the process of being rebuilt and refortified. In Lannisport, ships were beginning construction as Aegon set his new subjects to a monumental task.

As the castle was rebuilt, Aegon began to draw up schematics for a new class of ships, the likes of which had never been seen before in Westoros. These ships were of Númenórean design, with Aegon's own advancements and modifications. Ships that would be similar in nature to the those of the Great Armament, the last king of Númenor unleashed in an attempt to seize Valinor, so long ago.

Even just a handful of vessels, with such might would be enough to overwhelm the galleys and longboats of the Greyjoy fleet, and eventually, Aegon would construct more, and unleash them upon Essos.

For now, schematics of these ship designs would be copied and dispatched to all of the ports under his command, and those with the capacity for such a task, would begin construction of these mighty vessels.

Aside from that, Aegon now held court out of Casterly Rock, where the Lords and Ladies of the Westerlands were commanded to come and swear fealty to the new ruling power, those that did not, were subsequently attacked as Aegon's army dispersed across the Westerlands, crushing any holdouts, and securing the kingdom.

Not long after the attack, Lilith had commanded that Gothmog return to Tantibus Arcis, and gather another army to march south. This force would be fifty thousand strong and would reinforce them. It would take several months to gather the army and march it all the way down from beyond the Wall, but if every was timed correctly, Gothmog's army would arrive at the Riverlands, around the time that Aegon was ready to invade the Crownlands.

While Gothmog gathered this army, Aegon and Lilith would secure the Westerlands, and make war on the Reach. Barring any attempts made by Stannis Baratheon or the Stormlords, once the Reach fell, Aegon could invade the Crownlands in force and seize the throne.

He would have around sixty-five thousand for the invasion of the Reach, not counting those that would hold the Westerlands once they moved south, and Aegon intended to raise an army of men within the Westerlands and forge an alliance with Dorne. If luck held he might manage to gather a few thousand men from the Westerlands, and maybe ten thousand from Dorne. If everything went as planned and he avoided major losses, Aegon would have a force of over a hundred thousand to attack King's Landing.

Other than outnumbering them, Aegon also intended to weaken his foes with starvation. The Iron Titan and his army now held Bitterbridge and Aegon had dispatched multiple raiding parties to strike out from the Gold Road and attack the Reach, raiding farmland and harassing caravans. While he worked on conquering the Reach, he would effectively starve the capital, ensuring that when he did march on King's Landing, their numbers would be even less.

While not planning or holding court, Aegon began conducting dark rituals deep within the mines of Casterly Rock.

Using his dark magics, Aegon conducted a ritual from his past, placing the egg of a chicken, beneath a toad, Aegon set about breeding the fearsome King of Serpents back into the world.

In the quiet dark, Aegon worked his magic into the unborn creature, using dark and twisted spells to alter it as the ritual to birth the mighty Basilisk, ran it's course.

Lilith reacted with great excitement when she heard of his plans to birth a Basilisk into the world. She had spent a great deal of her youth, enthralled by serpents and the like, and it was her study of such creatures that led her to the mighty dragons where her passion truly lay, but she couldn't deny that she still adored the fearsome beasts, and was excited to see one, once more.

Using his magic, Aegon manipulated the unborn beast, enhancing the strength of it's scales, which were once as hard as the dragons of their youth, it's natural armor would now rival that of the Great Dragons, being nigh impenetrable and without weakness, save for the inside of it's mouth.

Aegon also worked his magic to alter the beast and remove it's weakness to the crowing of a rooster. A process that would have been near impossible in his youth, Aegon now understood how to manipulate living things and twist such creatures to his desires. All that mattered was time, patience, perseverance, and skill.

Power was also a deciding factor, in all honesty, and Aegon now possessed such power in spades. All he needed to do was grant the Basilisk the ability to temporarily deafen itself at the sound of a roosters crow. A normal basilisk wouldn't die immediately from the crowing of a rooster, it took several moments of the sound to fully cause the Basilisk's heart to stop, so allowing the creature to temporarily block out all sound, the moment it began to pick up that distressing noise, would allow it to survive.

With it's weakness removed, and it's natural armor enhanced, the great King of Serpents would once more be unleashed upon the world, in all of it's glorious and improved form.

Upon it's birth, Aegon brought the creature for Lilith to see. A three foot long serpent, with dark green scales, and bright yellow eyes. It was a female, lacking any feathers upon it's head, and was born with a mouthful of razor sharp teeth, dripping with poison.

Upon examination of the creature, Lilith took note of it being more than just an upgraded Basilisk. Aegon had bonded the beast to him, much like his dragon Umbra, and his Direwolf Ghost. The Basilisk now shared a tie to her master, and was thus, more powerful as a result.

Aegon took to naming her Euryale, as she was the first of her kind, a new breed of Basilisk that was greater than her ancestors. Naming her after one of the legendary gorgons, made sense to him.

Lilith swooned over the infant serpent, enjoying it's presence and often meeting it's gaze in a battle of wills. Despite being freshly born, the young serpent was already headstrong, and obstinate.

Most of the time, the newborn basilisk would travel with Aegon, draped around his neck or coiled around his upper arm within his clothes. Aegon intended to teach the little serpent the languages of this world as well as Arda though for now he spoke to her in Parseltongue. He also commanded that she utilize a set of lenses that could slide over her eyes, to stop her from killing anyone she looked at. With these lenses covering her eyes, anyone who met her gaze would seize up in fright, but they would likely survive unless they had some sort of underlying condition that could cause such a fright to harm them.

Not long after Euryale was born, Aegon took the serpent to meet with Maester Aemon. He showed the newborn creature to his granduncle, explaining what it was, and how it differed from the so-called Basilisks that he had heard of. Aemon marveled over the strange creature, admiring her traits, and her serpentine nature.

A mighty and powerful creature, that Aegon explained, could even kill a dragon with it's poisons, if it managed to get close.

Even as a newborn, Euryale was already producing venom, and Aegon extracted a small amount which he gave to Aemon so that he could study it and it's affects. Aemon was grateful for the opportunity and took some time to familiarize himself with a poison that, according to Aegon, was more deadly than almost any other in the world.

Raising his newborn familiar and securing the Westerlands filled Aegon's time, until now when a raven arrived with news that Sansa had been freed and was now being transported to Harrenhal.

Hearing that, Aegon called for Robb, Arya, and Benjen to meet with him in private.

"My agents are taking Sansa to Harrenhal." Aegon informed them.

"She managed to escape?" Robb asked in reply, his face lighting up with a smile.

"Yes. Her wolf's blood was activated, and she managed to get out of the castle. Our agents managed to find her and are taking her to safety. Uncle Benjen, I would ask that you take a hundred riders, and head to Harrenhal to retrieve her and bring her here. With her wolf's blood active, she'll require training, so that she can learn to control it. Plus we can keep and eye on her here until it's safe to send her north." Aegon commanded, earning a nod of affirmation from Benjen.

"I'll go and get her. I'll see her safely returned to you all." Benjen offered to Arya and Robb.

"Ride hard uncle, but stay safe." Robb said to him, offering Benjen a hug, which he reciprocated.

"You both stay safe as well, and keep your cousin out of trouble." Benjen replied, patting Arya on the head and offering Aegon a smirk which he returned.

"We'll see you when you return uncle. Go with haste, before the Lannisters have time to catch up." Aegon said to him, earning a nod from the man who quickly turned to depart.

"You think they'll be alright?" Arya asked as Benjen left.

"Uncle Benjen is strong, and Sansa is stubborn, just like mother. They'll be back soon." Robb offered in reply.

"That's now four of the Starks who've had their wolf's blood activate. The chances grow for you to soon join our rank, along with Bran and Rickon." Aegon stated.

"I hope I do. Being a werewolf and all. Sounds perfect for me." Arya replied with a smile, earning a snort of Robb as he shook his head.

"Be careful what you wish for, Arya. You may just get more than you bargained for." Aegon countered with a smile of his own.

Arya stared back at him for a moment, before lightly shaking her head and turning to head off.

Both Robb and Aegon watched her walk away before sharing a glance.

"So I'm guessing they refused the trade?" Robb stated after a few quiet moments.

"Yes. Just as anticipated they moved to free Ser Kevan, believing me to be unprepared. Their doubt cost them the lives of some of our prisoners, and now Ser Kevan has joined the ranks of the Cargûl." Aegon responded, earning a slow nod from Robb.

"What's our next step?" Robb asked after a moment.

"Once we finish securing the Westerlands, we march into the Reach. It's wide and open there, there's almost nowhere for an army to be pinned by terrain, meaning we can dispatch multiple raiding forces across the plains, and have them harass the enemy while we prepare a major assault aimed towards Highgarden." Aegon replied to his cousin's question.

"You have thoughts towards such an assault?" Robb questioned him.

"I have a few ideas. Come, let me share them with you, see what you make of my plans, and see if together we cannot refine out attack to a razors edge." Aegon answered placing a hand on Robb's shoulder gesturing him to follow. The two quickly made their way to where Aegon had established his council chambers within the castle, so the two could go over maps of the Westerlands and the Reach and go over what information they had on the enemy.

With Sansa now returning to the safety of her family, any hesitance towards future assaults was removed. The Lannisters had lost their last remaining piece with which to threaten them with. Now they would face total war.

-Four days Later-

Aegon sat in his bed, Lilith cradled in his arms, the two laying together, staring out at nothing in particular as they basked in each others presence.

Both were quietly thinking, neither had spoke in about an hour, when suddenly Aegon shifted and sat straightened up.

"What is it?" Lilith inquired, noting his sudden reaction.

"Olórin. Gandalf the Grey, one of the Istari. He has come to Dol Guldur." Aegon replied, his eyes lighting up in flame as he focused on his Avatar in Middle Earth.

"Why is he there?" Lilith asked.

"He has come at the behest of the Brown Wizard, Radagast. I knew the troublesome little wood sprite would bring me a greater prize." Aegon answered as a cruel smile spread across his face.

-Dol Guldur, Middle Earth-

The Dark Lord watched as Gandalf the Grey retreated through the castle alongside the former dwarven king, Thráin. Gandalf had used his magic to restore some of the dwarf's sanity and was trying to question him, but Thráin knew that Sauron was near, and knew they had to retreat.

Sauron overhead Gandalf assure the old king that a 'key' and a 'map' were both safely in the hands of Thráin's son, Thorin.

Thráin reacted with fear at that, and began warning Gandalf against any attempt to reclaim the Lonely Mountain when suddenly, Azog the Defiler emerged from the shadows and struck the Grey Wizard, sending him onto his back.

Gandalf was quick to return to his feet, and use his magic to hold Azog back as he collected Thráin and the two began to retreat.

Using a burst of white light from his staff, Gandalf was able to blind his attackers and he retreated through the castle alongside the old dwarf king.

The two were set upon by wargs, and barely managed to outrun them, only for Gandalf and Thráin to run right into the Dark Lord's Avatar.

Gandalf's eyes went wide as he beheld the living shadow that quickly swelled with power as Sauron channeled his essence through the Avatar and lashed out at the Grey Wizard.

Gandalf used a shield of light to protect himself and the old dwarf from the lashing tendrils of shadow that assaulted him.

A battle of wills began as the Avatar pounded against Gandalf's shield, while Gandalf summoned all of his strength to resist the attack.

For the first time since it's creation, the Dark Lord was now fully focused on puppeting his Avatar, channeling his dark power through it, while holding back just enough to prevent it from breaking down.

An opening occurred for just a moment in Gandalf's defenses as the old Dwarf king despaired and begged the Wizard to tell his son that he loved him.

The moment Gandalf was distracted by the dwarf's requested, the Dark Lord struck out, pulling the dwarf away from Gandalf and out of his protection. Seeing no further use for him, the old dwarf was torn apart by the tendrils of darkness before they resumed their assault on Gandalf.

Their battle of wills resumed, the fortress around them shaking and beginning to crumble as light and dark smashed against one another.

Finally, the Dark Lord had enough power gathered, and his Avatar's shadowy form, ignited into flame, so focused was Sauron's will on his Avatar that his image began to project itself as a pure black form, wreathed in hellish fire.

Sauron focused his power onto Gandalf's staff, turning it to ash in the Wizard's hands as he shattered his shield and threw him up against a stone wall.

The Grey wizard was only able to utter a single word as he realized the true nature of his foe.

"Sauron!" He hissed out, as tendrils of darkness shot forward from the flame and hammered the wizard's body, injuring him and driving him into unconsciousness.

-Casterly Rock, Westoros-

Aegon let out a menacing chuckle, as a cruel grin spread across his face.

"The Wizard is mine." Aegon growled out, his eyes locked with Lilith's. She smiled back at him, her smirk, equally terrifying as she saw into his mind, and bore witness to the battle that just played out.

"You truly have grown strong, baby brother. You cast down one of the mighty Istari from a world away. Truly magnificent." Lilith offered him praise, enjoying how truly incredible his strength was. Even with all that she had done to improve her own strength, even with the natural advantage she had, had over him when they were children, even after the power-up she had undergone when Eru brought her back to life, and she was freed from the confines of mortality, her little brother's power was still something that amazed her.

Rituals, dark sorcery, sacrifice, and all other manner of abhorrent act had increased Lilith's powers during her time as a human, and yet, Harry had always managed to trail her. Though never surpassing her, he had always managed to remain a threat, despite everything.

Now Lilith saw something more in him. A potential to surpass her as a threat. He wasn't blessed with great powers, he was always strong, but never a freak like she had been. She had done all manner of unspeakable thing to herself in order to enhance her powers. If those things she had done, reflected in her physical form, she would have been far more hideous than even her predecessor Voldemort had been.

Harry had never taken those shortcuts. He had never made those selfish sacrifices. He worked for all that he knew, and he fought for his power, he always had. Now, thousands of years later, he had grown into a monster, all his own, but with his growth came a cleverness, and skill that had reflected in his youth. His powers grew, but he never forgot the struggle to gain it, and that made him cautious, and clever, and devious.

He was like a legendary warrior, standing before a mighty dragon, when comparing the two of them. Both figures were magnificent in their own ways, and were capable of carving out a legend of their own. A part of her wondered what he would be like if he regained his ring, and began to partake in some of the rituals she had endured in her youth. Twisted magics to enhance his powers further, alongside his Ring of Power, all of that combined, and he may just become a greater threat than even her.

As he was now, he was stronger than any of the Maiar. Probably stronger than any two Maiar. With his ring though, with all of that power returned to him, he would elevate his own strength to match that of the gods, becoming as powerful as the Valar themselves.

Seeing him elevated to that level, the thought excited her. It made his desire, his dream, seem like it could one day be real. The ability to stand as her equal, twin gods of darkness.

Everyday he trained with martial weapons, everyday he plotted and planned and schemed. His powers grew with these actions, though he had always had an uncanny ability to chase her, no matter how strong she was. Hiding from Eru Illuvitar had put a stall on their game, but now that they were free from his gaze, her beloved brother was free to chase her once more. She simply needed to encourage it more openly.

If she focused on refining and improving her own powers, than he would start chasing her, as he had in their first life, so long ago. He would scale whatever heights she climbed to, no matter how long it took, or how arduous that task. He would chase her, and this time, morality would not constrain the actions he took to make it to her. If that drive was fully reignited, she had no doubt that he truly would stand as her equal one day.

The Goddess of Darkness, and the Master of Death. Twin Dark Lords of ultimate power. Such a thought filled her with excitement, and she decided at that moment, that she would see that drive in her brother reignited fully. He would reach her level of power, and she would hone hers to the razors edge that he accomplished with his own.

"With the Grey Wizard in my possession, others will come to rescue him. The time has come, unfortunately. The enemy will now know for certain that I have returned." Aegon stated.

"They will still believe you to be weak. That is still our greatest advantage. So long as they do not know of me, and believe you to be in a weakened state, we will be able to move more freely, for the moment at least." Lilith responded, earning a nod of agreement from Aegon.

"Yes, indeed." Aegon agreed.

"What will you do with him?" Lilith inquired.

"He will remain imprisoned in Dol Guldur, and I will use the evils of the that place to drain his power and weaken him. I will either consume all of his strength and empower myself with it, or I use his weakened to state to turn him to our cause. I will see if he can be corrupted." Aegon responded.

"Good… very good. Another of the Maiar turned to our cause will be a great boon." Lilith agreed.

"Thorin, son of Thrain, marches on the Lonely Mountain, with a key and a map, allowing him to sneak inside. Their actions will stir Smaug from his slumber, and we must be ready to capitalize on the Dragon's awakening. Azog will lead the army at Dol Guldur to the Lonely Mountain. The kingdom of Erebor and it's riches will be ours for the taking." Aegon explained to her.

"When the dwarves rouse Smaug from his slumber, that will be our opportunity to interact with him. Once awake, and his attention turned away from the hoard of gold he has, he will no doubt sense your call, and if he has any sense, he will answer." Lilith added.

"Yes. Our plans move forward. Now let us see how our enemy reacts." Aegon stated, his gaze and attention focusing back through his Avatar as orcs rushed around the unconscious form of Gandalf, and dragged him away to be imprisoned.

-The next day, Harrenhal-

Sansa Stark heard a whisper that startled her awake. Her whole body ached and she found herself covered in a blanket, but also nude.

She rose up, scanning her surroundings, unsure of where she was or what was going on. The last thing she could recall with any clarity was the creature in the Throne Room. She remembered stepping up to it, being traded for Tommen's life, and then… nothing.

"You're awake." A voice stated, Sansa turned her gaze and found an unknown man standing at the entrance to the room she was in. She was currently sitting on a cold, hard bed, and the room she was in was dark and damp.

"Where am I?" Sansa asked as she pulled the blanket tighter around herself.

"Harrenhal." The man responded as he stepped further into the room and tossed a set of clothes onto the end of her bed. "Put those on. You're uncle has just arrived."

"My uncle? Wait, how did I get here?" Sansa tried to ask, but the man was already walking away and he did not stop to reply.

Sansa quickly dressed, and stepped out of the room where the man was waiting for her. He gestured for her to follow him and she did so, though hesitantly, as they made their way through the ruined fortress.

"You didn't answer my question. How did I end up here?" Sansa asked as they made their way forward.

"You transformed into a werewolf and escaped the city of King's Landing on your own. We drew you to us, and you were placed into a deep sleep by the dark lord's magic. We brought you here, and you returned to normal while you rested, you've been asleep for several days. King Aegon dispatched his uncle to retrieve you, he arrived not long ago and I was sent to retrieve you." The man explained to her, earning a but of confusion but she pressed on regardless, taking in the strange sights of the ruined castle as she did.

Orcs and men trained within the castle as well as all manner of beast, Sansa couldn't help but stare as she was led into a large open room where Benjen was waiting for her.

"Uncle Benjen!" Sansa let out gleefully as she rushed over to the man and threw her arms around him.

"Sansa! Thank goodness you're alright." Benjen replied with a smile.

"What are you doing here? Shouldn't you be up at the Wall?" Sansa asked as the two separated.

"The Night's Watch was disbanded by King Aegon." Benjen replied simply, Sansa stared back with a bit of confusion.

"Come, we should talk. We'll rest here for the day and return to the Westerlands tomorrow. I'm sure you have plenty of questions." Benjen offered, earning a nod from Sansa. The two returned inside, and Benjen spent the next few hours explain to Sansa what had happened while she was held prisoner in King's Landing.

Some of it she already knew, but the full extent of what had gone on, truly left her flabbergasted.

Not only was Jon actually her cousin and the rightful heir to the Iron Throne, but he had also forged an alliance with a sorceress beyond the Wall, and with her armies had taken the Far North and the Wall, and had now conquered the Westerlands. Three of the Seven Kingdoms were now under the rule of King Aegon.

Sansa didn't know how to feel when she heard that Aegon was meant to be wed to this Sorceress. A part of her felt betrayed, but it was a small, childish part that had been beaten down and driven into the deepest recesses of her mind by Cercei and Joffrey. She understood that such a political marriage was the reason that Aegon had managed to accomplish all that he had, he was doing what was smart, and as much as it hurt to know that even when reunited, they would never have what they once did, Aegon had done what was right, and because of it, he was winning the war.

Sansa's spirits were lifted when she heard that Arya had been found, and that Bran and Rickon were safe and well in Winterfell. At the very least, not the Stark Clan looked like it would recover from the Lannisters attempts to destroy them, and for that, Sansa was grateful.

"How is he doing, Jon, or Aegon, I mean?" Sansa inquired.

"He's doing well. Growing stronger every day. I hardly recognize him sometimes, he's got a cleverness to him. This cunning that I've never seen before. I can only expect that he got it from his father, because it's not something I recall any of our family members having. Besides that he spends most of his time with Robb, plotting and planning, and if he's not with Robb he's with Lady Lilith." Benjen answered.

"What is she like?" Sansa asked carefully.

"Terrifying." Benjen replied, honestly. His answer earned a confused look from Sansa so he decided to expand on his reply. "She's got an intensity to her. Most of the time she never says anything, either during meetings, or councils, she's just waiting in the wings, watching, listening. When she does speak, there's an air of authority to her voice, something focused. She's cunning, and charming. She's also powerful, in a way that cannot be explained. You have to see her, and see what she's done in order to truly understand." Benjen replied, his eyes averting as he thought about the strange and terrifying displays of magic he had seen the so-called sorceress conjure up.

Even now, people were beginning to whisper that she was far more than she appeared. Not just a mighty sorceress, but something beyond human. There were some, who whispered of a goddess in the flesh.

Sansa was silent at that, curious and a bit worried. What could that mean if even her uncle was weary of this strange woman. In the end she would simply have to see her for herself.

"Enough of that though. You'll form your own opinion of the woman when you meet her. For now there is something more pressing for us to talk about. Werewolves." Benjen began, focusing his gaze on her and earning a curious look from his niece.

As Benjen explained to her, the secret power of their family blood, and what it allowed them to do, Sansa couldn't help but remember a nightmare she had once had. Something so strange and confusing, that it had terrified her for days. Now that nightmare began to make more sense, seeing Jon turn into the wolf, perhaps it had been some sort of dream tied to her own wolf blood. She wasn't certain, but now she knew more than ever, that she had to return to Jon, perhaps if she explained her nightmare to him, he would have answers for her, about what it meant, and why it had happened.

-Casterly Rock, five days later-

Aegon sat at the high table of Casterly Rock. Behind him sat Ghost, the wolf having continued to grow, and now stood as tall as his brother, nearly as big as a full grown horse. Aegon quietly fed table scraps to Euryale, the small serpent had grown larger with each passing day. She was now over four feet in length, and her appetite seemed to grow as she did.

Aegon was otherwise alone with the great hall, save for a few guards, and the occasionally servant tiding up the place.

Half his focus was one the small serpent coiled around his arm, while the other half was on his Avatar in Middle Earth. He had spent the last five days, focusing his power onto the imprisoned Grey Wizard, slowly draining his life force and weakening him. The wizard sat quietly in his cage for most of the time, quietly muttering spells of protection to keep Aegon from overwhelming him again.

His spells grew weaker with time, as his will wore out. Seeing the large army at Dol Guldur march out of the ancient fortress and disappear into the world, demoralized the gray wizard and further weakened him.

Ever since this morning, Aegon had felt something through his Avatar, a familiar power coming from the Grey Wizard that did not belong there.

It was a power that was so familiar and yet, Aegon could not place it right away. More and more he found himself focusing on it, until now, where he had diverted a great deal of attention on the unknown power.

This power took him back, it reminded him of something from his ancient past. For some reason he couldn't help but think of his ring, yet he knew for a fact that it wasn't the power of the one ring that he was feeling.

So then what was it?

It felt like flame… this strange power of the wizard. Flame… what in his past reminded him of flame, and of his ring?

Aegon's eyes suddenly went wide, and smirk spread across his face. He shot to his feet, starling Ghost awake, and quickly apparated out of the room, leaving the guards and surrounding servants dumbfounded at the sight.

He appeared high on a wall of the castle overlooking the sea. Lilith was there, staring out into the west. She turned to him curiously, sensing his excitement, and taking not of his grin as he appeared beside her.

"What is it?" Lilith inquired.

"Narya. The Wizard has it! Gandalf the Grey. He has one of the three elven rings!" Aegon responded excitedly as he directed orders through his Avatar, ordering his servants in Dol Guldur to interrogate the wizard and demand to the location of the other two rings. If Gandalf had one, than surely he knew of the location of the others. This was a most unexpected boon, and Aegon intended to capitalize on it.

-Dol Guldur, Middle Earth-

Aegon watched through his Avatar as a massive Uruk pulled Gandalf down from his cage and tossed him hard onto the stone. The orc began to demand the location of the Elven Rings as it kicked Gandalf around. The Wizard offered no reply other than seizing a chain on the ground and lashing the uruk across the face.

Black blood erupted from the Uruk's mouth, which he spat on the floor and let out a roar. He quickly seized Gandalf and placed his hand upon a slab of stone while drawing for a long blade. He intended to cut the wizard's hands off, and as he did, Aegon was able to use the opportunity to see through the concealment spell that the wizard had placed over the elven Ring of Fire, Narya.

The Uruk noticed it too, and held that hand upon the stone, intent on taking the ring and delivering it to Sauron. As he raised his blade to chop off the wizard's hand an unnatural sight drew the wizard's gaze towards some nearby steps.

The Dark Lord's Avatar remained unseen, though watched with immense curiosity as the ancient elf, Galadriel climbed the steps unto the ruined platform where Gandalf was and there she issued a threat to the Uruk.

"I have come for Mithrandir. If you try to stop me, I will destroy you." Galadriel warned, fixing the uruk with a hard gaze.

How she had made it this far without him noticing was concerning to Aegon, though his senses were a bit cloudy through his Avatar, and he had been focused on Gandalf all day, so perhaps that, plus a concealment spell of some sort, allowed such an infiltration.

Quietly, Aegon summoned the four Nazgûl within the fortress, as he focused his senses on the aid, Galadriel no doubt brought with her. He quickly took note of several other presences within the fortress, strange unknowns hidden beneath a concealment. No doubt Gandalf's allies had come in force to free him. The time for Sauron's reveal, was at hand.

The Uruk tossed Gandalf aside and made to challenge Galadriel. In response, and with a wave of her hand, his body blasted into gore, as a shockwave of light, rippled across the sky.

The essence of magic she unleashed, revealed another familiar power to him. He could see it, upon her finger. Nenya, the ring of Water. Now two of the three were known to him. One with Gandalf, and one with Galadriel, the only question was where the third resided? Who would Celebrimbor have trusted the final ring too? If one was with Gandalf, than perhaps another was with Saruman the White Wizard?

Regardless of the answer, now the Dark Lord knew where two of the three Elven Rings were. Even if Galadriel and her companions managed to escape with Gandalf, Sauron had still gained a valuable piece of information.

With the Uruk dead, Galadriel picked up Gandalf and began to carry him out of the fortress. She made it down the steps of the platform to the area below when she was confronted by four of the Nazgûl.

The four began to surround her, Khamûl leading them, each of the wraiths stood in clad in black robes. The had been enshrouded, in preparation for heading to Erebor with the Dark Lord's Avatar to meet with Smaug.

Each drew a longsword and fanned out around the ancient elf.

Aegon felt through his Avatar, the concealment spell drop as Saruman, the White Wizard, emerged from the shadows on one side of the room. On the opposite side came Elrond, and Glorfindel, both fully armed and armored, ready for battle.

Aegon cursed internally, knowing full well that four of the nine would never stand against the combined might of Saruman, Galadriel, Elrond, and Glorfindel. Such a group could even threaten his Avatar, with how limited it's powers were.

"Are you in need of assistance, my lady?" Saruman inquired, as two of the Nazgûl, stood in his path and challenged him openly.

"You should have stayed dead." Elrond threatened as he and Glorfindel advanced on the two remaining Nazgûl who readied to fight.

With Aegon's Avatar so near, the Nazgûl were less likely to flee before the incredible might bearing down on them, but it was still a near hopeless battle for them.

Instead, of allowing them to be weakened by battle, Aegon chose to this moment to reveal himself.

An eruption of fire, consumed the platform that Galadriel had brought Gandalf down from, drawing the attention of those present. From within the inferno of flames, the form of Sauron, in full armor, advanced.

"You should not have come here." He intoned through his Avatar.

Elrond and Glorfindel tensed as he approached, but held their grown, the Nazgûl fell back to stand at their master's side as he slowly descended from the platform, fire advancing with him.

"This world, is mine. The west shall fall!" The Dark Lord intoned as he continued to advance. From behind Elrond and Glorfindel, a group of Rhosgobel Rabbits came rushing in from behind them, pulling a sleigh that carried Radagast the brown Wizard.

The sleigh pulled alongside Gandalf and Galadriel, where Galadriel quickly ushered the nearly drained Gandalf onto the sleigh.

"Flee all you wish… the time of Elves and Men is over. The age of Darkness, is at hand. This is my moment!" The Dark Lord intoned as he advanced, reaching the bottom of the stairs as Radagast urged his rabbit to move, and he quickly retreated with the injured Gandalf, taking him to safety and removing his ring from Sauron's grasp.

"Your powers are weak, your dominion over this world is ended!" Glorfindel challenged with fire in his eyes.

Screeches of rage, emanated from the wraiths, as the form of the Dark Lord shifted it's gaze towards Glorfindel, and Elrond, before returning it to Galadriel.

The ancient elf was weakening quickly, the darkness of Dol Guldur, and the presence of the Dark Lord was sapping her powers and weakening her will.

A menacing chuckle emerged from the dark lord, as the flames around his body pulled inward, and his giant armored form seemed to fall into itself, reshaping, into the ghostly figure of a man. This man, bore the face of Viserys Targaryen. Ethereal, and clearly faded, yet the appearance of what appeared to be a regal form, drew surprise from his enemies.

"You underestimate the darkness, and that will be your doom." Aegon's Avatar responded with a devilish smiled as it extended a hand to one of the wraiths. With a bow of subservience, the wraith passed it's sword into the Avatar's hand, and the Avatar quickly began to advance on the weakened form of Galadriel.

Elrond, Glorfindel, and Saruman rushed forward to defend her, Glorfindel reaching the Dark Lord first.

A flurry of strikes came at the Dark Lord as the elf who had once slain one of the mighty Balrog, charged fearlessly into battle with yet another champion of darkness.

The Avatar men his incoming strikes, blocking them as he the Dark Lord's full focus went into manipulating his Avatar. Each movement felt sluggish, slower, weaker than it would have been, have Sauron truly been there.

Yet even still, the Dark Lord held his ground. His time training as a human, had increased his martial skills, no longer was he as slow and cumbersome as he had once been. He had no doubt the ancient elf warrior still outclassed him, but his powers outweighed that of the elf, and he intended to make him work for this fight.

The Dark Lord knew he was unlikely to win, his Avatar simply couldn't withstand the power needed to overwhelm these warriors of the light. So instead he focused his attempts on testing what he had learned already during his time in a new body. He moved more swiftly, and struck with greater precision. It was obvious that Glorfindel could sense the increase in the Dark Lord's skill as the two traded blows with their swords.

Elrond attempted to join his comrade but two of the Nazgûl rushed forward to face him. The remaining two engaged Saruman to attempt to hold him back for a few moments.

The dark lord continued to trade blows with the ancient elf warrior, sword clashing against sword. Occasionally, he would strike out with a burst of power, attempting to catch Glorfindel off balance and send him flying through the air, but the elf made sure to avoid these strikes, choosing to dodge instead of block them.

Sauron pressed forward, pushing Glorfindel on the defensive as he launched a powerful flurry of blows against the elf. Each blow was blocked or avoided. The Dark Lord continued to press until he caught the elf in a chain of quick strikes that finished with a powerful downward strike that Glorfindel couldn't dodge and was forced to block.

The ground buckled beneath the elf's feet, and he was forced to a knee by the power behind the strike. He let out a huff as he held his sword against the superior strength of the Dark Lord.

He glared up defiantly and than rolled out from beneath the blade, quickly returning to his feet as he did.

The Dark Lord pursued him as he felt his excitement grow. This fight was starting to get fun.

Around him, Elrond and Saruman pushed back the Nazgûl attacking them, holding them off with relative ease, as the Dark Lord's Avatar continued to engage Glorfindel.

The two met, blade against blade, both meeting each other's gaze.

"So this is the might of a champion of the Valar? I must say… I expected more." The Dark Lord hissed, shoving Glorfindel back with his superior strength.

Than elf kept on his feet, and kept himself ready for the next attack. Aegon was ready to continue his assault, when a blinding white light erupted, from nearby.

He heard the wraiths let out ear-piercing shrieks as they immediately fled the incredible power behind this blinding light. Sauron turned his gaze towards the light, finding Galadriel back on her feet, her form was twisted as she drew upon the powers of her ring. In her hand she held a blazing light, that was unlike anything the Dark Lord had faced before. The light was so intense and powerful, it could have only come from one of the Silmarils.

His faded fair form vanished as hellish flames exploded around him and he reshaped into a shadow of his towering armored form.

"You have no power here, servant of Morgoth!" Galadriel declared as she challenged him, her will and the might of the light within her hand, burned at his form.

"Such power… that cannot be one of the Silmarils… and yet… it reflects it's light..." The Dark Lord thought as the light singed his Avatar's form.

He pressed back against her attack, channeling power through his Avatar and letting that power explode outward, causing the whole fortress to shake.

"You are shapeless! Nameless! Formless!" Galadriel shouted as she unleashed greater power, matching what the Avatar was able to unleash.

"Go back to the Shadows from whence you came!" She cried out, as she used her magic to attempt to banish him from these lands.

The Dark Lord felt his power teeter as his Avatar reached it's limit, whatever it was that was channeling the light of one of the Silmarils, plus the elven Ring of Water, and Galadriel's own might was enough to overpower the limited abilities of the Avatar.

He was about to retreat, when a presence passed into his being, a familiar presence urging him onward. He felt Lilith's reach out, taking his head in her hands and pressing her forehead to his. Her encouragement, was enough to keep him from retreating. With a snarl he let out almost all of the strength gathered within the Avatar, unleashing a potent blast of power that knocked Galadriel back, and dropped the elves to their knees. The only one that stayed upright from the attack was Saruman.

Galadriel let out a gasp of pain as she fell onto her back, she felt a burning pain in her arm, and to her horror, she found a hand gripping at her forearm. An ethereal hand gripped tightly around her pale skin, burning it, and causing the flesh to rapidly turn red.

Sauron held the elf by the arm, glaring down at her with hellish intent.

"Do not think this a victory. You have won nothing. My age has come!" Sauron declared before releasing her and retreating from the fortress. His Avatar was near collapse and he could not continue fighting until he repaired and refortified it. He left the wretched elf with a mark that would never fully heal, and from that mark, he would always know where she was.

Such a mark would be difficult to remove, and it would take time to accomplish it. For now, the stain of that mark would remind her of the price of defiance. He had no further need of Dol Guldur, at the moment. He could reclaim the fortress at a later date. He now knew where two of the three Elven Rings were, and that, in and of itself was a great boon. He would need to locate the Nazgûl and head out after Azog and his army. It was time to march on Erebor and claim it for himself.

At the same time miles away, the great dragon Smaug moved against the people of Laketown. It had, it's flight from Erebor felt a power echo through it's blood, a power so familiar and yet foreign to it. Once it was finished with Laketown, it would have to search out this power and find out what it was. Perhaps the time had come to meet with the rising darkness and see what the Dark Lord had to offer the last of the Great Dragons in Middle Earth.

-To Be Continued-

Alright, there's the next chapter, hope you all enjoyed, a lot happened in this chapter so I hope you all followed it well. I hope you enjoyed the chance to actually see Aegon fight in a battle where he was tested, even if it was only through his Avatar.