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Chapter Text

Afternoon, 12th day, 10th Moon,  280 A.C.

Howland Reed had just left Greywater Watch a few days previous and came into the sight of Moat Caillin. To the untrained eye, nothing had changed regarding the ruins of this castle, but any Crannogman could tell there was changes to the island in the middle of the boggy ground that held the previously submerged outer walls. His father and Lord Quagg had already finished the bulk of the work necessary for reconstruction of the foundations of the outer and inner walls of the keep. The difficulty now would be shipping in the stone for construction, with limestone from the quarries to the east in House Flint’s territory for mortar and the granite from the quarries near the newly constructed Grey Harbor on the Stony Shore halfway between Sea Dragon Point and the mouth of the Rillstone River.

The location of the granite quarries and the fact that transport needed to happen across House Tallhart’s, Dustin’s, and Ryswell’s territories was one of the reasons Howland was being sent North towards Winterfell, to ensure that there would be no interruptions to the transport of materials to Moat Caillin.  This was so House Reed and House Bogg could fulfill their obligations to House Stark with the reconstruction of Moat Caillin. Howland’s father said he was not very impressed with Lord Rickard Stark’s current heir given his lack of discipline and self-control had potentially threatened their project’s timeline, as Lord Rickard Stark had to renegotiate the current vassal agreements with House Ryswell and House Dustin, the latter of which held the bulk of the territory the convoys would have to cross with the granite as well as the one most wronged by Brandon’s dishonoring of their heir’s potential betrothed.  House Ryswell won a Stark betrothal from such with Eddard, the second son. 

Eddard was an enigma however to most in the North. He had gone missing in the Vale at the age of barely nine namedays and resurfaced at the age of ten and six. There were rumors that there was a Tyroshi slaver operation operating within the Vale under Lord Jon Arryn’s nose for several years, specifically one aimed at producing fighters for the arenas in Volantis and the cities along Slaver’s Bay. Eddard had escaped during a revolt of the slaves and was the only survivor having killed his captors, was nursed back to health, and resumed his fostering in the Vale. Rumors had it that Eddard had become a formidable warrior during his captivity and killed his captors earned a prominent scar on his face as the reward for such.  There were also rumors that he was a warg and a very powerful one at that.  This last part was the other reason Howland was being sent to Winterfell, as, if Eddard was a very powerful warg, it would be in the North’s best interests if he had the benefits of proper guidance and support from those who had the greensight.

Howland was merely a greenseer in training but he did show the natural gift of greensight. If all went to plan, he would be traveling to the Isle of Faces a fortnight after he returns with his father from the upcoming winter gathering of the Lords of the North in Winterfell. Howland adjusted his oil and wax treated heavy cloak over his light leather armor and high leather boots, as he made his way north along the Kingsroad. The leather of his armor and boots was a mottled dark-green almost black due to it being made from Lizard Lion hide. This along with the treatment to the materials made the materials waterproof, a necessity for living in the swamps of the Neck.  It did not do as much however as furs for the cold as he moved northward along the road.

After leaving Moat Caillin behind, Howland felt slightly dizzy and went over to a lone grove of trees slightly away from the road. Howland had these dizzy spells from time to time and they usually were a precursor to oncoming green dreams. This was no exception as he saw a not yet fully grown lion lizard scurrying across a moor from one marsh to another, only to be cornered and surrounded by feral dogs. Before the feral dogs could pounce, a scarred direwolf appeared and growled at the dogs. Upon the growling the dogs dissipated into the air as the lion lizard crawled upon the direwolf’s back to continue crossing the moor.  Upon awakening he setup camp in the hidden safety of grove of trees as the sun was just setting. The next morning  Howland set out north along the Kingsroad.

About a quarter-league north of the crossroads of Cerwyn road, a young Howland Reed ran into trouble.  Seven men, somewhat larger in stature than Howland, were standing on either side of the road, with two workhorses in front of  a cart. The cart seemed to be filled with burlap sacks which had other items in them, along with a few wooden chests. 

“Wot ‘ave we ‘ere?  A lost li’l boy?”  said one of the men. They were all dressed in simple and well-worn tunics and britches with an odd assortment of armor over such, as if it weren’t their armor to begin with. They were also armed with weapons which seemed to be of a quality indicating that these were pilfered from armories of  local town militias and not castle-based armories. Except for the one who was their leader. The seemed to have some odd looking armor on as well as some dark tattoos on his arms and face, and was carrying an odd looking hooked sword. His black hair seemed to be tied in the back with a short-braid which came to his mid-shoulder, and looked like it had been longer at one point but was cut. “Yer gonna ‘ave t’ pay a toll, t’ pass?”

“I am just a traveler. Let me pass,” replied Howland continuing along the road defiantly.  His small size made the men think he was younger than his true age of  five and ten.  

The man who addressed Howland merely put his left hand on Howland’s shoulder as he said , “A hund’rd silver stags’ll let y’ by. Hand it over... and that fancy trident y’ got. Looks like castle-forged steel.”  Howland merely shook his head, as he was able to palm a small knife in his hand. Coated with oil from the skin from a RedFrog, the dagger would be enough to paralyze with just one cut from the naturally occurring neurotoxin. The defensive poisoned armor the Old Gods gave this brightly colored frog a deterrent from predators would be enough to incapacitate even the largest of men. 

The man reached for Howland’s trident strapped to his back with his right hand whilst he grabbed Howland’s throat with the left. Howland sliced the man’s left hand with his knife and the man immediately let go, as the entire left side of the man’s body went numb. The man took a swing with his other arm at Howland, only for Howland to stab his attacker in the throat with the poisoned blade. The man crumpled to the ground dead, still holding a horrified daze, falling on top of the more diminutive young Crannogman, pinning him.

The man’s four fellow brigands stood up and approached Howland and their dead comrade, weapons drawn. Howland threw the dead man off and scrambled away crawling.  He happened upon pair of leather boots which were the standard style worn by  Northern men-at-arms out of the larger castles such as Winterfell or Castle Cerwyn. Howland looked up to see the boots’ owner was a young man about his age, with a scar on his face which ran from above his left eyebrow, across the orbit of his eyesocket,  to the underside of his lower left jaw. The face looked at him with an expression which read more like that of a wolf than a man. The scarred young man had a long face, cold yet bright grey eyes, and dark hair and was dressed in a simple wool grey tunic and trousers with a thick overshirt on top. 

The young man merely helped  Howland to his feet before politely putting himself in between Howland and the brigands. The young man said something, oddly in Valyrian, to the leader, “Se zokla iksis daor buzdari, belmurtys.  Ao morghūlis.”  The leader’s eyes grew wide as he drew his oddly hooked-sword and charged along with his five cohorts at the young man who challenged him.  

Howland watched as the young man moved as fast as the wolf he resembled. It seemed as if his attackers were moving like Southrons trying to navigate the bogs of the Neck on foot. The young man was dodged a swing of an axe, which appeared to be similar in design to those used by the Ironborn, by the first brigand who attacked him, countering by grabbing the man’s throat and literally ripping it out. Grabbing the now choking and bleeding brigand’s axe, he buried it in the forehead of the second man charging him with a similar axe. The young men then wrenched the axe from the second brigand’s forehead and grabbed a second axe with his free hand. 

The third and fourth men charged simultaneously, one armed with a short sword and shield, the other with a heavy mace. The young man was able to dodge their swings and return strikes enough to wear them down for a killing blow with the axes.  

The fifth man was a larger man who held a bastard sword, which looked like it might not have been castle-forged but was kept very sharp..  The young man dodged the first swing but blocked the second until they both were in a stalemate. Howland saw the larger man taunt the young man a bit trying to throw him off guard. The young man’s expression did not change as he shifted his weight breaking the stalemate, dodging the fifth man by moving to the side and behind him and spinning low slicing the tendons on the back of the man’s legs at the knees. The fifth man fell, dropping his bastard sword, as his legs failed to support his weight.  The young man then dropped the axes and retrieved the fifth man’s bastard sword, using such to decapitate his crawling wounded opponent. 

The young men then turned to the leader saying a familiar phrase in Valyrian, “Valar morghūlis,  Zakaro, se Dōthrāki.”  The leader charged at the young man with his hooked sword as the young man dodged him easily a few times before bringing up the greatsword when he saw an opening.The young man then impaled the leader through the heart with the bastard sword, killing him. 

The entire skirmish had taken only a few minutes, as young man walked over to a relatively stunned Howland Reed and addressed him in Common Tongue, albeit with a very uniquely softspoken Northern accent, “Are you okay?

“Yes,” stated Howland Reed after an awkward but short pause, before extending his hand in a friendly gesture, “Thank you, Thank you very much.. I am Howland of House Reed of Greywater Watch.”

The young man with the scarred face smiled, as he embraced the hand in reciprocation of friendship, “Howland of House Reed of Greywater Watch. I am Eddard of House Stark of Winterfell.”

Howland smiled, albeit a bit awkwardly, as he added,  “My congratulations as well on your betrothal and upcoming lordship of the Sunset Coast.” Eddard’s smile seemed to drop at the mention. Howland frowned apologetically. “Sorry, I assume you knew.”

Eddard shook his head, “I knew. I will do my duty for the North. I’m just not happy with the situation.”  Eddard walked back to pick up his pack which was left further down the road, slinging it over his shoulder. Eddard eyed the horses, “Do you ride, Lord Howland?”

“Not very well and it’s been a while since I have. Not much opportunity where I’m from,” replied Howland with a wink.

“I see,” replied Eddard. “We’ll take the cart then. Help me empty the contents onto the side of the road and we’ll move the bodies off to the sides as well. “  

As Eddard approached the horses, they seemed a little skittish until he began to speak to them as they calmed down. Eddard ran his hand along the top of one of the horses’ heads behind the muzzle saying something softly in Old Tongue which sounded to Howland like, “You will be returned to a nice stable for honest work and a good home.”

Howland moved three of the bodies to the side of the road as Eddard moved the other four. They placed the bodies against two piles of the heavy burlap bags and chests. As they finished they both hopped up on the driver’s bench of the cart and began moving northward along the Kingsroad.

Howland noted, “At this pace, we should be at Wintertown in a sennight.” 

Eddard nodded, “Aye.”

Chapter Text

Afternoon, 12th day, 10th Moon,  280 A.C.

It was still winter and Eddard could feel the biting cold of the North as he returned home for the first time since he left for the Eyrie almost a decade ago. Killing that sellsword turned petty brigand was a bit of satisfying closure to his seven years of captivity as little more than a fighting dog being trained for a slave’s life in some arena in Essos. Zakaro the Dothraki was one of the men who had captured him many years ago, and who escaped the slaves’ revolt at Vardokan son of Vrakka’s arena mainly by being sent by his superiors to carry the chest of silver dragons which comprised the earnings of the last round of arena batttles back to House Hersy for counting. The chest had never arrived and was most likely lost or spent, given Zakaro was hiding out as a common highwayman robbing travellers on the Kingsroad in the North. 

The encounter with Zakaro and his men was not all about vengeance and sating the bloodlust of being both a warg and having ‘wolf’s blood’. It had introduced him to Lord Howland Reed, who, unbeknownst to both young men, would become Eddard’s very close friend, as well as a goodbrother through the marriage of two of their respective children in later years.  They would spend the next few days riding North in the middle of winter along the Kingsroad, stopping at farms along the way to rest. 

Around five leagues from Wintertown during a stop at a farm, Eddard looked like he was feeling uneasy the next sunrise as he and Howland were preparing to leave. Howland sat Eddard down and saw his pupils go from wolf grey to a non-existent white. Eddard remembered later that Howland revealed that his father had told him about this sort of phenomenon with wargs: where they were pulled into a warging trance by their bonded animal when it is in distress. Howland stood by Eddard, noting to the farmer and his sons as they entered the barn that they will be staying the extra day. 

Eddard could faintly hear the conversation with the farmer as he was elsewhere. A large wolf, a larger breed than any he had encountered, was on his last years of hunting and was calling out to Eddard. 

Eddard found himself inside the mind of an elderly male direwolf somewhere in the Wolfswood. He was in the middle of a den with around a dozen or so other male direwolves and their mates. In the middle of the den was an elderly female direwolf laying on her side, her breathing shallow. It was evident she was taking her last breaths. It was also evident that her death was not natural as Eddard saw a couple of  crossbow bolts in the side of the female wolf. He could see another adolescent male wolf lying dead near her with four crossbow bolts in it and six pups each with skewered with a bolt.  Eddard’s mind grew angry as he saw the pups slaughtered senselessly, in addition to the anger that the wolf he was warged into was feeling for the loss of his mate.

One of the larger males stepped forwards toward the Elderly male and chuffed. Eddard heard the sounds and body language translated in his mind as “Father, it is time for my mate and I to become alpha.  We will hunt down the hairless ones who threatened our pack.”

“You will not,” came the reply. “At least not right away.”

“Why?”

“First, where is the dark runt?”

A small dark-grey almost black wolf pup stepped forward, being nudged by the alpha’s mate, as the elderly direwolf continued, “The hairless one who speaks to me from afar has a younger sibling who was bonded to your younger brother here.”  The elderly direwolf indicated the deceased adolescent male. “The white trees with dark leaves whispered that this runt should be brought to the younger sibling and I am to greet the younger sibling and his sister as well as his future mate. They will return the stolen bodies of our females to rest the lone large white tree with dark leaves in the large stone den sunrise direction from forest territory.” The elderly direwolf then looked at the pup,  “Dark runt, you will come with me to guide the hairless ones.”  

The elderly direwolf then looked back to the alpha, “The hairless one who speaks to me from afar is also part of a greater pack with our pack. I will be leaving the dark runt with them at the forest’s edge to wait for the hairless one who speaks with me from afar. After then, I will travel to him and then to the large stone den sunrise direction from forest territory before I leave for the hunting grounds your Mother is now. When I am with your Mother, the hairless one’s pack will be ours and ours will be the hairless one’s.  Belay our revenge on those not our pack until I have departed the woods with the hairless one. And then you will begin to hear his voice as he will hear yours.”

There were murmurs of slight confusion but assent to the elderly alpha direwolf’s speech to his son as Eddard heard the final words before the warging ceased, “You and your mate lead our pack now.” With that the old direwolf  left the den and Eddard suddenly found himself pulled back into his own body in the barn. 

Eddard snapped out of the warging and looked to Howland Reed. He said slowly, “We’ll need to go on foot the rest of the way,” stated Eddard. “We’ll be meeting an....old friend on the way.”

Howland replied, “Okay. I’ll let Farmer Cleos know. I think he was hoping we’d leave the horses anyways. He’s got a nice stable for them so they should be well cared for.”

Eddard nodded, “Aye.We’ll most likely be meeting our old friend across Hunter’s Gate at the edge of the Wolfswood. He’s halfway between Deepwood Motte and Winterfell in the Wolfswood currently I think, but can cover ground a lot quicker than we can. ”

Howland put his leather shield on over his back and placed his trident in his back scabbard, as Eddard pulled on his heavy tunic, still stained with the blood of the brigands. “At a fast pace we can make it in three or four days but we only have a couple days’ rations to get us to Winterfell. I suppose we're good if we stretch it.”

“Wintertown is south and to the west of Winterfell Castle if I remember correctly,” suggested Eddard as he picked up his pack. “We could grab a bite to eat at the Smoking Log perhaps en route through town to our destination.”

Howland Reed sighed, “Very well. Do you mind if I ask you a question?”

“No,” said Eddard hesitantly.

“I take it your old friend bears a striking resemblance to the sigil of House Stark,” said Howland. 

“Yes. Why do you ask?”

Howland replied mirthfully, “Just guessing. It would be good to see the living sigil of a friend’s house. It would be a welcome change from home seeing all the Lion Lizards.”

Eddard nodded with a slight smile, if it could be called one, and stated, “Let’s get moving. The sooner we’re off the better.”  His smile dropped as he realized that Benjen was a warg too and may have been warged into the adolescent wolf during its death. 

Chapter Text

Morning - Sunset, 15th day, 10th Moon, 280 A.C.

Lyanna Stark rode along the road from Torrhen’s Square through the Wolfswood on her cream coloured palfrey, Morninglight, at a regular trotting pace. As usual she was dressed in her usual woolen riding britches and boots, with a heavy fur-lined cloak and fur-lined leather boots, all in the light-greyish hues of her houses colours.  Riding in a reddish-brown palfrey named Sunfire was her foster sister, Barbrey Ryswell, wearing almost the exact same outfit save for the color-scheme was black with bronze colored fur trim, and a lacquered metal clasp depicting House Ryswell’s sigil holding her cloak on.  Both women had their hair braided in a long single northern-style braid. 

Lyanna had sent a raven to her younger brother Benjen. They were going to meet him where the trail from Sea Dragon’s Point meets the trail from Torrhen’s Square in the middle of the Wolfswood five leagues west of Winterfell.  There was a hunter’s cabin there and whoever arrived first would await the other and they would head into Winterfell together. For their protection they travelled with two of House Ryswell’s guards who were riding coursers from the Ryswell stables and carring castle-forged steel swords and armored in typical northern ringmail. 

They arrived at the hunter’s cabin in the mid-afternoon. The cabin itself was a large cabin with a large common room with two private rooms off to the sides and an attached barn with a stable with stalls for horses and kennels for hunting dogs. As Lyanna guided Morninglight into one of the stalls  in the stable next to where Barbrey was placing Sunfire, she noticed three coursers already resting in the stables. Barbey briefly noted “ They look like Riverlanders most likely based on the saddles I’m seeing in the stalls next to Morninglight and Sunfire.”

Lyanna pointed out a couple of formidable crossbows propped up next to the stalls along with several quivers of heavy bolts. “Are they hunting or laying siege to a castle?”

Barbrey shrugged as she eyed the sigil on the side of one of the saddles, “House Terrick. Technically a vassal house to House Tully....” Barbrey grumbled slightly, “....but I hear the old weasel who guards the bridge has more influence over them than the old fish. I suppose it balances out. I heard House Charlton’s looking to leave the old weasel and join the frogeaters of House Blackmyre.”

Lyanna scoffed at Barbrey, “Crannogmen, Barbrey. And they worship the old gods just as we do.”

“Not for long given who Brandon left me for, Lya.”  Barbrey said. Lyanna understood where Barbrey was coming from emotionally on this. She had given her maidenhead to Brandon although he failed to mention the betrothal even during his time with Barbrey after they had returned from the Riverlands. Lyanna had stayed in the Rills with Barbrey during the time her father and older brother were in Riverrun. If she had known, Brandon would have faced Barbrey’s wrath rather than her affections upon his return from Riverrun, and the mess that was left would not have occurred.  “I’m guessing the Godswood of Winterfell will be paved over with stones to create a giant Sept worthy of  that Southron cunt, thus completing the grey-rats’ plan to sneak the Andal invasion in through the back door.”

Lyanna looked at Barbrey with an expression of doubt, “So Brandon’s betrothal to Catelyn Tully is a conspiracy for another attempt at the Andals finally infiltrating and successuflly invading the North? ”

“It was your Maester’s idea for Brandon to....” said Barbrey before Lyanna put up her hand. “And I suppose it was Maester Walys’ idea for me to be betrothed to Robert Baratheon as well?  Given Robert’s reputation,  he’s the Andal equivalent of Brandon with the number of girls he’s been with. I’m fairly certain there may be some noblewoman in the Stormlands who now is complaining that Robert is marrying that Northern Savage and will tear down all the Septs to plant groves of Weirwood trees.”
 
Lyanna stated this with a smirk looking Barbrey directly in the eye, letting her know how silly her thoughts were. “The truth is Brandon seems to do all his thinking with his loins sometimes. Dad says it’s ‘wolf’s blood’ but that’s not wolf’s blood , that’s just his nature....short-tempered and tends to cater to his own pleasures, whether it's drink or women....but the long and short of it is Lady Catelyn Tully will be the Lady Catelyn Stark of Winterfell and the alliance between the North and the Riverlands will hold because of that, just as the alliance between the North and the Stormlands is being founded on my becoming Lady of Storm’s End and marrying Robert.”

Barbrey seemd to want to argue slightly, “But why her? She hasn’t done anything to deserve him.  Brandon loved me. Why did she steal him from me?”

”Don’t blame Lady Catelyn, Barb. And quite frankly I know my older brother doesn’t love anyone other than himself.” Lyanna hated taking sides against her own family, but as far as she was concerned Barbrey was the sister she never and soon to be goodsister through Eddard. In Lyanna’s mind, her sister was wronged by her older brother,  “She was just as wronged as you were by his actions, even if she’s unaware of such.”

Barbrey opened her mouth as if to say something, but Lyanna knew what she was going to say and put her hand up, “I would suggest not push the issue, Barb, or bring up the subject in Lady Catelyn’s presence whilst she’s up here for your betrothal feast.”  Lyanna continued, “You’ll be getting the bulk of the better deal anyways, being Lady of Sea Dragon’s Point, and through your husband, essentially owning the Sunset Coast.”

Barbrey sighed smiling, “I suppose being wealthy because of the new harbors and the trade that comes with such will have its benefits. I’ll miss you though, when you’re Lady of Storm’s End and Lady Paramount of the Stormlands.”

Lyanna winked, “Oh I’m sure I’ll be bringing a few large-boned black-haired, blue-eyed sons and daughters to the Rills and the Sunset Coast occasionally to visit their Aunt Barbrey and Uncle Eddard... and, of course, get some excellent Ryswell-bred destriers for my sons and some good palfreys like Morninglight for my daughters..”

Barbrey smiled slightly. Lyanna could tell her train of thought had changed, “What’s Eddard like?”

Lyanna was at a loss for words, “To be honest, none of us know.  All I do know is what Benjen had told me that father had told him and Brandon.  He was captured and lived like one of Rogar Bolton’s fighting dogs for seven years before turning on his masters and escaping. There are rumors circulating that he may be a warg. I asked father what he was like now and ... ”

“What did he say?” said Barbrey as Lyanna trailed off somewhat uncomfortable with the answer her father gave her. Last thing she wanted was to scare her future goodsister but she did wish to be honest.

“Father avoided the subject actually but he finally said, ‘Your brother is still quiet but he is anything but the meek boy when he left.’” Lyanna said, as she added, “Benjen knows a little more, but he’s pretty sour to the fact Ned’s going to be Lord of Sea Dragon Point as he thinks taking his Lordship from him.”  Lyanna noted to herself that essentially that is exactly what was happening. She knows Benjen was proposed for betrothal to Barbrey early on but neither Rodrik Ryswell or Rickard Stark could sit with that idea. Benjen was viewed still as too young for Barbrey, being barely over eleven  namedays old at the time of the beginning of negotiations and there was also the fear that House Glover would essentially rule the Sunset Coast given the fact Rodrik Glover had was the Lord Regent of Sea Dragon’s Point until Benjen would reach the age of majority.  She remembered Barbrey’s father saying  he’d be damned if any Glover would tell him how the Stony Shore was going to be run.  Lyanna overheard such but remained quiet. Lyanna had a peculiar sense that Eddard might end up being the type however who would most likely be telling Rodrik Ryswell how the Rills should be run instead. 

Barbrey shrugged as they began to depart the barn, “I’m sure he’ll get over that.”

Lyanna turned her attention to the hunters, who seemed to be strangers in the North actually. They seemed more like rather rich Southrons journeying into the North for sport. There were approximately seven wolf pelts laid out on wooden furrier’s stretchers outside to the right of  the cabin’s front entrance. They appeared to  being prepared for transport back as trophies. Lyanna was very disturbed about two of the pelts which were unusually large; they were stretched similar to the  Northern Grey Wolf pelts next to them but they were almost twice the size. Lyanna was guessing possibly Direwolves, although the darker grey fur could be the Bluegrey Bears native to the far Northwest near the Wall and Bear Island.  Barbrey could tell the unease from her normally composed foster sister when seeing such. 

The hunters were from the Riverlands it seemed. Two, Walder Rivers and Emmon Rivers, were bastards from one of the older sons of Old Walder from House Frey and the other from House Terrick, a Lord Addam Terrick, second son of Lord Jason Terrick, whose lands bordered House Frey’s and House Blackwood’s.   Lord Addam stepped forward, a man of nine and ten namedays, with reddish-blonde hair and greenish-grey eyes, and the sort of smile that her father’s maester Walys would always describe as  ‘one which the did not convey any sincere pleasant sentiment at all and, in fact, invited the less even-tempered to physically strike such an expression from the wearer’s face.’. 

“Ah, Ladies,” Lord Addam said with a typical Southron courtly bow, “Welcome to this humble cabin in the midst of the Wolfswood of the North. I am Lord Addam Terrick of House Terrick of the Riverlands, here with my squires Walder and Emmon.” 

Barbrey was struggling to keep a straight face as Lyanna rolled her eyes slightly, a little more obvious in her discomfort with the current company,  Barbrey was the first however to break the tension and return the greeting accordingly, “I am Lady Barbrey Ryswell of House Ryswell of the Rills, along with Harlen and Chev, two of my father’s trusted guards.” Barbrey motioned to the two men who gave a simple respectful nod before motioning to Lyanna, “And this is my good friend and foster-sister, Lady Lyanna of House Stark. Currently, we are awaiting Lord Benjen Stark of Sea Dragon’s Point and his Lord Rodrik Glover, current Regent Lord of Sea Dragon’s Point.” Barbrey paused for a moment and started to possibly ask regarding the wolf pelts, “I see you have some wo__ “

Lyanna interrupted, eyes narrowed, “I assume you have a document stating you’re allowed to hunt in the Wolfswood?”  Her words were stern although she didn’t want to sound as angry as she was inside. Addam produced the document, handing it to Lyanna who began reading. She scoffed, recognizing her eldest brother’s signature on the document, “The only game you’re permitted to hunt with this document is Wintertail Deer and Boar. It says nothing regarding wolves.”

Walder shrugged, “Not as though anyone’s going to miss such. Got enough of them ‘round here...”

If looks could kill, Walder would have died instantly on the spot at the stare Lyanna shot at him. Lyanna opened her mouth slightly and was about to let them know the stupidity of their actions, but Barbrey, the stern diplomat, decided to educate the men on their mistakes, “Northern Grey Wolves are not like the Red Wolves of the Riverlands and Westerlands or the Southern Grey Wolves of the Kingswood, Lord Addam,” stated Barbrey. “I’m hoping that you’ve travelled at least three leagues from where you killed the Northern Grey Wolves whose pelts we saw outside?”

Emmon piped up, “Just over a days’ ride heading south to this cabin?” 

Assuming a slow pace this would just clear the range of the wolves. Barbrey nodded, “Well you most likely cleared the distance needed so the pack wouldn’t hunt you down in retaliation.” 

Walder and Emmon looked slightly nervous as Barbrey moved to Harlen and Chev, “Secure the horses in the hunter’s stable and secure the doors, just in case,” she ordered the two guards who nodded and followed her direction. Barbrey turned to the Riverlanders, “So you killed a couple of bears as well?”

Lord Addam remained close lipped, as Emmon began to say, “Those weren’t bears. They looked like di__”  Walder shook his head looking to Emmon indicating he should say no more. Emmon became quiet again. 

Barbrey looked at Lord Addam, “Are those fucking direwolves you killled?”  Barbrey had  a look of disdain on her face whilst Lyanna felt her anger boiling over too much for words to form.  Barbrey smirked mockingly, “I’m hoping for your sake the two whom the pelts belong to were killed in self defense...”

Just then Benjen Stark, wearing a similar look of anger to his older sister, barged into the cabin from the small hall leading to the the stables. He was followed by Lord Rodrik Glover, a pleasant looking relatively short man with a neatly trimmed greyish beard and a shaved bald head. Harlen and Chev followed behind Lord Rodrik Glover. 

“Who is the fucking cunt with a death wish  .... “ Benjen snapped before seeing Barbrey and Lyanna, “Excuse my language, Ladies. My apologies.” Lyanna broke a slight smile at Benjen as her anger waned slightly at seeing her younger brother being of like mind but it was clear that Benjen was much angrier. Lyanna had never seen him this angry, as he was normally cheerful.

Lord Rodrik Glover put his hand in front of Benjen as if to indicate that he would handle the situation. The older man stepped forward and stated deadpan, “Who was the person who had the dumb idea of killing Northern Grey Wolves *and* what appear to be two Direwolves on the edge of the territory of a known Northern Grey Wolf pack?”

Everyone stood stunned at the youngest Stark of just two and ten state such in his voice which hadn’t as yet deepened with his maturing into puberty. Chev merely pointed towards Lord Addam and his squires. 

Lord Rodrik Glover nodded towards Chev and stepped forward in the midst the group in the common room of the cabin and stated in his pleasant but authoritative voice, “I’ve gone to Shadow Tower a few times to visit my eldest brother, Toregg, who had taken the Black under less than ideal circumstances . But one thing I do remember is observations he made being one of the more capable and experienced Rangers in the Night’s Watch. His knowledge regarding the animals north of the Wall, in particular the larger predators, is unsurpassed. Maester Qorgyle at Shadow Tower and Maester Aemon at Castle Black have copied his notes on such for their libraries and have sent such to the Citadel.  I’ve seen a direwolf or two from a safe distance North of the Wall when Toregg took me on a couple of his shorter rangings.”  

Lord Rodrik looked at Lord Addam and his two squires rather pointedly, “I took a look at the heads of the two large pelts that you have outside. Those are both from female direwolves....which means their slightly larger and definitely far fiercer mates, if they are around, will be plenty pissed off. Direwolf territorial ranges are about five to ten times the range of  Northern Grey Wolves and they are twice as fierce when it comes to defending their pack. Snowbears don’t even fuck with them and give them a wide berth, to give you an indication of what you are up against when facing off with a direwolf let alone a pack of them.”  Lord Rodrik Glover paused for a moment, bringing his voice down to a more even tone, “So you better fucking hope you just killed two lone female direwolves which found themselves wandering south of the Wall in search of food in the winter.“

Lord Addam looked to Lord Rodrik, curious as to what the alternative was, “So what if they weren’t lost direwolves?”

Lord Rodrik looked at Benjen and Lyanna briefly, before answering, “If a pack of direwolves has established itself in the Wolfswood, this changes matters drastically for everyone who passes through the Wolfswood.” 

Lord Addam looked confused but Lyanna had caught the implications from Lord Rodrik’s statements. As did pretty much every Northerner in the cabin. Lord Rodrik decided to explain the implications however to Lord Addam, “A pack of direwolves in the Wolfswood means pretty much instead of avoiding the areas where normal sized Northern Grey Wolves reside for hunting or travelling, the entire Wolfswood is the territory of a pack of aggressive wolves most the size of coursers, some as large as destriers or larger. You killing two of their pack will have made it much more dangerous for anyone to travel.”

Barbrey thought for a moment and looked at Lyanna then Benjen and then to Lord Rodrik, “Give our horses a couple of hours to feed and rest. Then we head for Winterfell. We need to get out of these direwolves’ territory quickly and quietly then.”

Lord Rodrik looked to Lord Addam, “Are your horses rested? I suggest you come with us as well for your safety.”

“Yes,” replied Addam, “I’ll have Walder and Emmon pack the pelts.” 

“I’d suggest taking only the Northern Grey Wolf pelts if you absolutely must take them,” suggested Lyanna.  

Walder looked at Emmon and then to Lord Addam whose smile dropped and said coldly, “Noted.” The three Riverlanders seemed to move off on their own to one of the private rooms within the cabin,  to the point of evading interaction with the rest of the group in the cabin.  Lyanna figured it might be initially avoiding embarrassment, unless they had some ulterior motive she couldn't discern.

Lord Addam continued to give instructions in hushed tones to his squires as Lord Rodrik Glover and Benjen unpacked a couple of small sacks as well as two ceramic jugs of ale and another ceramic jug of mead with the sigil of House Mormont on it. Lord Rodrik stated, “Brought some smoked sunset whitefish from Sea Dragon’s Point and some other refreshments native to the area.”  Benjen pulled some cups and plates out as they sat down with the ladies at the table on their end of the cabin. Lord Rodrik and Benjen sat down after ensuring Lyanna and Barbrey were comfortably seated and served. 

Lord Rodrik leaned forward.  “I know there is a direwolf pack in this forest, by the way,” he said as he took a swig of ale from his cup. “Benjen had suffered something of a fit after we set up camp last night.”

Benjen seemed slightly upset by it, “Lord Rodrik....don’t ... I....”

Lord Rodrik said comfortingly, “It’s okay. I didn’t know what it was until I saw the weapons and those Riverlanders. Those crossbows they have are used for castle defense, meant for quick loading and they pull enough to penetrate plate. Looking at their quivers they spent more bolts than just killing the Northern Greys and those two female direwolves. And normally you recover those bolts if you can as they’re a little more expensive than mere arrows.”

Lord Rodrik took a deep breath as he leaned forward, “I’m pretty sure Benjen is a warg,” he said nodding to Lyanna then Barbrey. “I saw his grey eyes become white as snow and he seemed to be in a trance for an hour or so when were sitting around the campfire. Then he ended up having a fit or seizure of some kind where I had to hold him still and then suddenly it stopped, and I had to hold him for a few moments.”  Lord Rodrik put his hand on Benjen’s shoulder as Benjen finished his piece of the whitefish before he ate some bread and then took a swig of ale himself from his cup. 

Benjen put the cup down, “I don’t know what happened but I found myself surrounded by direwolves but I was a young direwolf myself.  Then I just saw what would have been two females get hit with crossbow bolts from nowhere. I saw another female and her pups shot with several bolts whilst three were nursing and the other three were playing near her.  I charged in the direction of the bolts as I felt I needed to stop them...I smelled where they were...I could also sense the entire pack closing in to where I was.”  Benjen poured himself some more ale, “I caught several bolts myself shortly afterward. I felt the last one go right through my skull as I died. Next thing I remember is waking up with Lord Rodrik wiping blood off my face off with a wet cloth.”

Benjen said softly, “I remember you praying in Old Tongue as I woke up Lord Rodrik. Thank you again.”  Lord Rodrik nodded.  Lyanna saw how the ordeal had affected her brother and embraced him in a hug. Benjen then stated darkly, “The direwolf pelt on the right was the nursing mother.”

The group continued to eat their meal and then went about packing their supplies for the journey to Winterfell once sunset had arrived.  Benjen decided to assist Barbrey and Lyanna handing the saddles for Morninglight and Sunfire to them, when he suddenly fell back against the stall. Lyanna saw the grey of his eyes disappear to be replaced with pure white.

“Lord Glover!” shouted Lyanna as Lord Rodrik came rushing over. Lord Rodrik seemed to assess what was going on. “Okay, let’s just relax and make him comfortable until he comes out of this warg. With any luck, he may give us an idea of where the pack of direwolves are.”

Lyanna merely nodded as Barbrey looked on concerned. It seemed like a good hour had passed when Benjen returned to consciousness He stood up shakily as Lord Rodrik helped him to his feet and looked to Lord Rodrik as he gained his composure.  Benjen opened his mouth to speak and nothing came out initially, almost as if he was getting used to how his mouth worked again and how to speak. 

“They will meet us outside in I’m guessing within the hour,” said Benjen. 

“Who?” replied Lyanna. 

Benjen didn’t respond as he merely ran off to another stall to saddle his own horse. Lord Rodrik Glover followed without saying a word himself to prepare his own horse and ready themselves for travel. They were readied rather quickly as Lord Rodrik and Benjen left the barn with their horses before Barbrey and Lyanna.

The horses all had to have the coldweather blankets placed upon them as winter nights were much colder than the days, even though the palfreys Lyanna and Barbrey rode and the coursers Benjen and Lord Rodrik rode were Nothern bred.   Additionally, both Lyanna and Barbrey spent some extra time rebraiding each others hair both in a tight bun in back, as they had to keep their heads covered against the cold of night. 

Lyanna and Barbrey exited the barn on their palfreys to an odd site in the sunset.  It appeared as though while Lyanna and Barbrey were still getting ready for the journey, Benjen and Lord Rodrik had pulled the two direwolf pelts down and were placing a bunch of what looked like the flayed corpses of the same direwolves on a wagon being led by two of the workhorses from the stable. Lord Rodrik went to secure their ‘cargo’ with some ropes covering both corpses and pelts with their own tarps, as Benjen walked to the south and raised his hand as if waving to within the darkening forest. 

As Lyanna looked towards the forest, she saw two shapes emerge from the forest. In the rapidly fading light, she saw they were two male direwolves. One was about the size of a small wolf with deep dark bluish-grey and black fur, just a pup who moved cautiously along, and immediately sniffed Benjen in greeting. By the way his tail was held and the brief affectionate nuzzle the direwolf gave his raised hand as he lowered it, Lyanna had a sense that this one and Benjen were already familiar with one another.  Benjen picked up the wolf and hugged it tightly, the direwolf pup seemingly content with finally finding Benjen.

Behind the direwolf pup was a massive adult male direwolf.  He was easily larger than most destriers and was almost the size of a snow bear. He moved slowly however and his fur seemed to be almost white with a strands of light-grey interspersed. The aging direwolf had a significant scarring on his muzzle and ears from many battles with other predators. 

Benjen spoke, “This pup’s name is Shadow. He was the runt of the litter from the previous season and was hidden behind his mother and grandmother, as his infant cousins were killed along with his aunt.  His uncle is now alpha of the pack and his grandfather is here to observe the pack, er... family of his warg and now his son, the alpha’s, warg.”  Benjen hopped into the wagon along with Shadow, as Lord Rodrik mounted his own courser with the reins and bridle set so he could pony Benjen’s along . 

The elderly direwolf stopped in front of Lord Rodrik briefly before rubbing the side of his muzzle along Lord Rodrik’s back. Lord Rodrik stated, “I think I just got scent marked.”  The elderly direwolf did the same with Harlen and Chev, Harlen being a bit shaken by the ordeal.

The elderly direwolf ambled towards Lyanna and Barbrey slowly. Morninglight and Sunfire seemed to be slightly skittish at predator larger than them, but calmed down as the elderly direwolf chuffed briefly at them. The elderly direwolf looked at Barbrey for a few moments before sniffing her leaning his massive muzzle against her cloak much more gently than he had done to Lord Rodrik. 

“I’m afraid to ask...” said Barbrey

Lyanna looked over as the direwolf approached her, “My guess is the whole pack is on their way here. We’re being marked as such so we can have some safe passage, I suppose,” said Lyanna, as the elderly direwolf merely looked at her and moved on, not bothering to mark her, and walked towards Lord Rodrik and his horse and the horse he was ponying. The direwolf chuffed slightly as if beckoning Lord Rodrik to follow.

Barbrey worried slightly as Lyanna was silent. Benjen began moving the wagon forth following Ser Rodrik and Chev with  Lyanna and Barbrey taking up the rear along with Harlen. 

“He didn’t mark you Lyanna,” said Barbrey worried. There was no answer for a few beats, “I said....

“I heard you Barb,” said Lyanna, shaken by a realization about the elderly direwolf. “I think Benjen and I don’t need to be....marked.”

“Why?”

“I swear on the Old Gods those were Eddard’s eyes that looked at me,” said Lyanna. “If they were, Benjen and I are already part of the pack.”

Chapter Text

Very Early Morning 16th Day, 10th Moon, 280 A.C.

Eddard snapped out of his trance and seemed to stir. Howland finished prepping a couple of rabbits to roast over the fire in the small grove  about a few hundred yards west of the KingsRoad. Howland smiled as he saw Eddard’s rather calm expression with a slight smile. Howland  placed two beheaded, skinned and dressed rabbits impaled on some sticks over a small bonfire. The sticks holding the rabbits were suspended above the flames by two logs on opposite sides of the small bonfire taken from a nearby felled tree.  Howland then began to watch the rabbits cooking as Eddard shifted closer to the fire as well. 

“Well?” said Howland as he handed 

“Well what?” replied Eddard in a slightly defensive manner.

Howland looked at him and leaned forward with friendly yet honest look on his face. He was curious as to what Eddard saw during his warging.

“You’ve been warged for quite a long time, Eddard.  At least five hours by the distance the moon has travelled in the sky since sunset and you were warged an hour before sunset. I figured I’d ask what’s new with your bonded direwolf?” asked Howland in a concerned manner. 

Eddard then proceeded to tell Howland what had occurred during his warging:  his bonded direwolf’s son, now the alpha of the pack,  had his trusted ‘vassal’ direwolves hunt down and locate the hunters and traced them to a hunting camp. They had observed them for a day from afar, noticing that the hunters had company who were not hunters. They had called the elderly direwolf and his son to observe from afar. 

Through the elderly wolf’s eyes, Eddard had seen Benjen arrive and become very upset once he saw the pelts of the two female direwolves. The direwolves had a view through one of the windows of the humans arguing inside the cabin, seeing Lord Rodrik appearing to be reprimanding some Southron looking man and his two squires.  Eddard remembered his father telling him about Lord Rodrik Glover who was fostering Benjen and preparing him for a Lordship being not unlike his brother Toregg, possibly the most capable and knowledgable ranger in the Night’s Watch.  Eddard’s thoughts noted that Rodrik was most lilkely knows direwolf pack behaviour and will be moving everyone out rather quickly once their horses are rested.  Since Eddard’s and the Elderly Direwolf’s thoughts were intermixed during the warging, the elderly direwolf picked up on this.  However, the thoughts of the elderly direwolf knew that the pack would be attacking very soon unless something was done. Eddard/the elderly direwolf negotiated with the alpha to hold off on the attack until Eddard’s brother and their party was safely away. 

Shortly afterwards the elderly direwolf had noticed the dark runt next to him and Eddard/the elderly direwolf noticed that the dark runt was of two minds as well.  The plan was for Eddard/the elderly direwolf to scent mark the members of Benjen’s party as they departed. He was surprised to see Lyanna and did not scent mark her. Eddard also briefly mentioned to Howland that Lyanna was travelling with Barbrey Ryswell. The direwolf pack would be able to tell she was part of the same pack as Benjen and the dark runt without such. The party would take the discarded corpses and the pelts of the two female direwolves with to be buried in the Godswood of Winterfell. Howland had assumed this was to appease the Old Gods as well as a sign that Benjen and Eddard are now tied to this rather large Direwolf pack which is resident in the Wolfswood. Given the dark runt had decided to stay with Benjen  as his companion, the Starks were indeed part of a larger pack which included the very beings which their sigil depicts.  Eddard/the elderly direwolf had  travelled with the party for a time until  the first small clearing about about two leagues outside of Winterfell which is about the time Eddard had said he had returned from the warging. 

Howland did the calculations in his head for the distance travelled normally by horse noting by where the moon was in the sky, Eddard may have been missing almost an hour even when compensating for having a slower wagon. Howland did remember that he was soon to bond with the son of the old direwolf. Howland surmised that Eddard may have jumped from warging into the father to warging into the son.  Howland could only guess what he Eddard had felt being warged into the alpha of a vengeful direwolf pack surrounding three humans and then observing the unleashing of such primal vengeance.  And switching animals is only accomplished by a powerful warg. Howland decided not to pursue his notice of the discrepancy since he already knew the answer and focused on some lighter subject. 

Howland said after Eddard relayed the account of his warging to pass Eddard the aleskin as he checked on the rabbits cooking over their fire to ensure they were cooking evenly, “So you saw your betrothed through a direwolf’s eyes whilst warging.”

Eddard took a swig and passed the skin back to Howland, “Aye.”

“Guessing she’s fairly attractive. Yes?” said Howland in a prying manner. 

“I guess. When I’m warged as I see through the direwolf’s eyes but I see with his mind’s ... judgement, for lack of a better term.” stated Eddard in a matter-of-fact manner. 

“How so?” asked Howland, somewhat curious.

“It never really occurred to me whilst I was warged into the direwolf that I was looking at my betrothed tthough a direwolf’s eyes. I simply thought as the direwolf did, “ said Eddard, finally taking a swig from the aleskin before handing it back to Howland. “I just saw a ... one of the hairless ones’ females.”

“Hairless ones?” Howland laughed, jovially for a moment. 

Eddard didn’t seem to get the humor at first, “Eh, that’s what at least the direwolves call people. We’re all pretty hairless compared to them...” 

“Fair enough,” said Howland, still chuckling before taking a swig of the ale first. 

 “So is she beautiful? Er....Barbrey Ryswell .. your betrothed?”

”She’s tall at least when I saw Lyanna next to her,” said Eddard. “From my memory of the image I saw she is very beautiful. Very tall and lean but curvy I guess in the right places. She seemed very ... graceful in her movements from what I remember.” 

Eddard paused for a moment as if lost in the moment trailing off for a moment, “Apologies, Howland, as I’m not exactly as eloquent as a bard at describing someone through words.” Eddard chuckled a bit. 

”Well I don’t think anyone will be mistaking any of us in the North as 

“ I suppose I’ll be able to describe her better when I see her with my own eyes. One thing I do know however is I couldn’t tell you what color hair she had or what color her eyes were though given direwolves don’t see color.” 

Howland chuckled, “I suppose you’re looking forward to meeting her soon?”

Eddard’s smile dropped, “Under other circumstances, I suppose I would. I’ll do my duty for my House.” Howland could sense almost a wolflike growl as he noted he may have touched upon a sore spot inadvertently. He quickly changed the subject.

“Well, I for one cannot wait to see Jyana again,” said Howland with a smile. 

Eddard raised an eyebrow, “Oh?”  Howland was inwardly relieved he’d successfully lowered the hackles on his new friend.

“She’ll be arriving at Winterfell a sennight after we arrive along with her father and my father for the Winter Gathering of the Lords of the North,” said Howland. “We’ll have a few days together before I have to leave South for the Isle of Faces. We’re to be betrothed formally upon my return, but I’ve always known we’d be together. I think she has as well.”

 Howland took another swig out of the aleskin and turned the rabbits so that they would be cooked evenly, “She’s got the prettiest green eyes I’ve seen and her hair is very dark and curly. She keeps it relatively short though. Those long Northern braids your sister and your betrothed most likely wear don’t fare too well in the marshlands.”

“How did you know she’s the one for you though?” asked Eddard somewhat skeptically. “I don’t think anyone would really know until....”

“I know. But I’m not just anyone,” said Howland, getting slightly more serious in the discussion. “I had a vision about two years ago of a woman carrying a three green spears who threw one at a lion lizard striking it in the heart and bringing it back to life....” Howland trailed off into a dialect of old tongue as he did, “I’ve seen glimpses of our children as well as your children ... I’m still however sharpening my skills as a ....I still have to pass the trials...” Howland found himself stumbling on his words, typical of his thoughts moving quicker than his mind could form words regarding such. He did notice however that Eddard

“Of course, you’re a greenseer,” said Eddard. 

“And you are a powerful warg, perhaps more powerful than you may realize,” said Howland in a concerned voice. “It is not an easy gift the Old Gods have given you with such power. Believe me I understand somewhat with having to deal with having green dreams, sometimes in the middle of the day whilst I’m doing something else.”  Howland stopped for a moment as he removed both rabbits from over the fire, and handed one to Eddard. “The Old Gods saw fit to make us travelling companions on this journey to your home in Winterfell. “

As he ripped off a leg, Eddard said, “Thank you, Howland. I hope you know I...”  Howland noticed a shift in Eddard’s demeanor as if he was attempting to try to say something he felt uncomfortable with. 

“Relax Eddard. And eat up, you need the energy after today’s warging,” said Howland in a pleasant voice. “We’ll split the one you’ve got now. Save me one of the legs at least, and we’ll split the other around midday. Sunrise is in a couple hours and it will be a slower pace due to our lack of sleep. We’ll have time to talk about more serious matters when we arrive at our destination and are rested enough to have our wits about us.” 

Eddard continued to eat the rabbit as Howland wrapped the other rabbit in some clean linen and put it in his bag. Eddard handed Howland a leg as Howland finished off the aleskin.  They extinguished the fire with some nearby dirt and set about heading back to the Kingsroad northwards as the first rays of morning light appeared in the east.

Chapter Text

Morning 16th day, 10th Moon, 280 A.C.

Lord Rickard Stark walked down the hallway from his bedchambers already dressed and walked past the rooms of his children in the Great Keep. He did noticed something odd as there were guards on duty outside of Lyanna and Benjen’s respective chambers. He approached Tobyn, the guard in front of Benjen’s room. 

“I take it my two youngest have arrived home,” stated Lord Rickard Stark. 

Tobyn nodded, answering a bit stiffly, “Yes, m’lord. They came in Hunter’s Gate just after sunrise.”  Rickard could tell the guard Tobyn was new and a bit nervous at being addressed by him. 

Rickard peeked in to see Benjen fast asleep next to a mass of dark grey and black fur.  “Shouldn’t that dog be in the kennel?” he immediately said. 

“M’lord Stark. I ‘eard Lord Benjen when ‘e came in couldn’t be separated from the animal,” said Tobyn as they both peered in at Benjen. Rickard began to enter the room to check on his son more closely as Tobyn put his hand up to his lord, “And that isn’t a dog, m’lord. The shift commander says it be the sigil of our Lord Stark’s house, m’lord.”

Rickard’s eyes grew wide as it sunk in. The mass of fur began to move and its head popped up with a big yawn showing off it’s rather massive and powerful jaw. Rickard saw the paws as the animal stretched and they seemed to be overlarge for the animals size and bulk. Rickard realized that this wasn’t a fully grown wolf, but a direwolf pup. The direwolf pup opened its golden-hued eyes and looked directly at Rickard. The eyes shifted briefly to a grey color hten back to the original golden hue as Benjen stirred. 

“Morning Da’,” came the groggy sounding voice from Benjen. 

Rickard smiles briefly, “Good morning, son. I take it Lord Rodrik Glover brought you back here as well.”  He motioned to Tobyn, who nodded and returned to his post outside the door. Rickard pulled up a chair next to Benjen’s bed, still fascinated by the direwolf pup who was almost as large as a hunting dog or smaller northern grey wolf. 

“Yes,” said Benjen as he sat up, rubbing his eyes for a moment as the direwolf pup gave his size an affectionate nuzzle. Benjen instinctively hugged the direwolf pup for a moment.

“I see you’ve found a new friend,” said Rickard.

“His name is Shadow,” said Benjen. “His fur was dark and he is always silently with me, I figured the name fit.”

Rickard noted this as his thoughts moved to the eye color change that he noticed, “Are you a ... “

“Yes, I am a warg father, just like my brother Ned,” replied Benjen, in what Rickard considered a disturbingly casual manner as if he were answering a question about the weather. Rickard opened his mouth as if to say something but Benjen had more to say, “Not as powerful as Ned however.”

Rickard said, “I wasn’t expecting you until later today. You didn’t have to ride all night from Sea Dragon Point.”

“We had to leave the hunter’s cabin near the fork in the trail throught the Wolfswood. It wasn’t safe with the hunters there,” replied Benjen, yawning widely as he seemed to be struggling to stay awake. “We said our goodbyes to Shadow’s mum and her auntie in the Godswood this morning.”

Rickard remained calm but that last statement alarmed him somewhat, “I’m assuming Lord Rodrik Glover accompanied you back.”

“Yes, he helped get me and Lya and Barb and Harlen and Chev back here along with Shadow’s Grandpapa who guided us a little over half the journey,” answered Benjen

Rickard asked , “Harlen and Chev?”

Benjen, replied, “Barb’s guards from House Ryswell.”

Rickard nodded. Of course, Rodrik Ryswell would not be sending his daughter and future good-daughter through the Wolfswood without sufficient escort. They’re most likely soldiers from his own militia, thought Rickard.  “So you were guided by an older direwolf halfway home in the wee hours of the morning...”

“Yes,” said Benjen laying back a bit sleepy. “We had  to leave the cabin as Shadow’s pack was ... angered....at some hunters. Shadow’s grandpapa marked Barb, Harlen, Chev and Lord Rodrik so they wouldn’t be harmed. They didn’t mark Lya and I as we’re already part of the pack.”

Rickard noted that Benjen was tired, “I’ll speak with Lord Rodrik then in a bit after I meet with . Get some rest, son.” Benjen nodded and laid back down. Shadow followed suit letting out a slight whimper as he laid his head down on Benjen’s chest.

Rickard left Benjen’s room and headed past Lya’s, peaking in briefly to see both her and Barbrey Ryswell both fast asleep in Lya’s bed, covered by furs. He noted one Ryswell man was asleep in a chair at his post next to the older Stark guard Brenyk, who had a daughter about Lya’s age who worked in the kitchens whom Old Nan had apparently passed on her recipe for kidney pie to.  The other Ryswell man was standing sentry next to Brenyk.  Brenyk nodded as Lord Rickard passed, “Morning, M’Lord.”

The Ryswell man followed suit with a bow of his head, “Good Morning, Lord Stark.”

“Harlen?” said Lord Rickard Stark guessing the name. 

“Aye, Lord Stark,” nodded Harlen.

“Assuming Lya’s in there with Lady Barbrey Ryswell,” said Rickard addressing Brenyk.

“Yes, M’lord,” replied Brenyk. “Both fast asleep and safe, M’lord.”

“Good,” said Rickard in response as he moved on. “Thank you, Brenyk. When Lya and Barbrey wake, tell them to I want to see both of them in my solar as soon as they’re ready and escort them there. After that take Harlen and Chev to the Guard’s Hall for some rest and a meal.”

“Yes. M’lord,” said Brenyk as he resumed his sentry duty at the door whilst keeping.

“Thank you, Lord Stark,” said Harlen in a polite manner. 

Rickard headed down the hall to the Lord’s Solar to see a waiting Maester Walys Flowers and the Castle’s Steward, Eldric Poole. “Where’s Cassel this morning?” said Rickard as he entered the Solar to take his seat at his desk, whilst the Maester and Steward took their seats after their lord had taken his. 

Poole stated, “Ser Rodrik Cassel is in the midst of organizing a ranging to the hunter’s cabin at the intersection of  the trail  from Torrhen’s Square and the trail from Sea Dragon’s Point. This is to recover the three bodies of the hunters presumed to be nearby according to what had been reported to us by Lord Rodrik Glover, who I had just finished getting settled in the Guest Keep for a much needed rest.”

Lord Rickard Stark noded, “I see. I had got a little bit of the story on the situation from Benjen. Can you give me a summary of the events since their arrival, Steward Poole?”

Poole nodded and explained in detail that he was summoned at sunrise to receive Lyanna and Benjen along with Lord Rodrik Glover and Lady Barbrey Ryswell and her two guards. Benjen had insisted on keeping Shadow with him and additionally insisted on holding a ceremony burying the two female direwolf corpses wrapped in their own pelts which were brought in with the wagon owned presumably by the hunters. Poole had woken some of the groundskeeping crew to assist with the burial in the Godswood near the Heart Tree but not disturbing its roots. He arranged for Lord Rodrik Glover to have chambers in the Guest House and sent some of the night staff with him to get settled, whilst others under Poole’s management brought assisted in getting  Benjen and Lyanna settled. Poole had stated Lyanna insisted on staying with Barbrey given something had shaken her.  Poole had asusmed it was the impending attack on the hunters for killing members of their pack Benjen had mentioned. 

“When Lord Rodrik Glover awakes I’ll ask him for a full account on what went on,” said Rickard. “One thing I do know is we do not issue hunting permits for the Northern Grey Wolves. I know we don’t and I know House Glover doesn’t.”

Maester Walys stated, “Lord Rodrik Glover had stated that the hunters had obtained a permit from Brandon Stark. But when presented with the permit it was only for Wintertail Deer and Boar. I have our copy of the relevant signed document right here.” Maester Walys handed it to Lord Rickard across his desk. 

“Well if they’re poachers posing as hunters who got in over their head, I don’t think they’ll be miss_ ...” said Rickard Stark until he sees the signature of the primary hunter. Lord Addam Terrick, second son of Lord Jason Terrick. “Fuck,” Rickard said out loud. “The second son from one of Hoster’s vassal Houses. That explains Cassel not being here.”

Rickard sighed, “We’ll have to wait until Cassel sends back word with his first report before I send a raven to House Terrick. If there’s any query from anyone outside Winterfell we’re unaware of anything going on in the Wolfswood, just a report of missing hunters and we’re doing out utmost to locate them. Understood?”

Maester Walys nodded, “I am concerned that it appears as though they were specifically hunting wolves. Cassel may be able to determine whether they were specifically there for hunting direwolves or whether they were just ‘targets of opportunity’.  I’d like to be there for Lord Rodrik Glover’s  questioning as well. If it is hunting direwolves, then it is a direct attack on House Stark, albeit more symbolic than actual, depending on whether they’re poachers for profit or someone else has hired them to do so.”

Rickard nods, “What’s your assessment then, Walys? I already know House Terrick seems to pay its fealty more to the Twins than to Riverrun, and the Riverlands isn’t as unified as Hoster Tully would like us to believe.”

Walys stated, "I do not think Hoster Tully would send one of the sons of his Vassal Lords North to hunt direwolves or wolves for that matter. House Frey on the other hand..."

Poole muttered a comment, "Hmmmp....I would not be surprised if Lord Walder Frey charged the second son of Lord Terrick two direwolf pelts or a marriage to one of his many ... less than attractive daughters for his return trip across the bridge."

Rickard sighed, "At any rate we'll know more when we talk to Lord Rodrik Glover.  Starting to wonder whether getting involved with the Riverlands is worth it."

Maester Walys nods, “The alliance started initially as a trade alliance with Seagard for the Sunset Coast, but with the Crown becoming more unpredictable especially after Duskendale, it is good to have the realms tied together for stability and mutual defense.”

“It’s been unpredictable since I went south in ‘64, Walys, right after Eddard was born,” said Rickard, “Lord Tywin’s been the only one keeping the Seven Kingdoms held together. But you are correct on why realms need alliances.”

Walys notes, “Well I had received news that Tywin Lannister has resigned as Hand, after Aerys made his eldest son a Kingsguard.”

Rickard nods, “That is very concerning. Who’s his replacement?”

“Lord Owen Merryweather,” replied Walys.

Rickard pulled his hand across his face, “Kingdom’s about to fall apart and the delusional monarch sitting on the Iron Throne surrounds himself with sycophants.” Rickard sighed and leaned back, looking at Walys, “What other news of the North?”

Walys stated, “We received a raven from Castle Cerwyn regarding further news on the corpses of seven men along with what appeared to be a substantial cache of loot believed stolen from travellers. The one who was  has been identified as Zakaro the Dothraki. Apparently he was wanted in Essos in Tyrosh and Volantis according to some of our sources for stealing from the same cartel that Lord Jon Arryn had rooted out from his realm recently.”

Rickard stated, “Any evidence pointing to perhaps the Slavers coming into the North?”

“Outside of what we’ve heard from House Stane and House Crowl regarding the occasional slaver ship passing through Skagos before and after stealing wildlings from beyond the Wall, Nothing.”

“Okay,” said Rickard. “Keep Lord Cerwyn in the loop on anything you hear and let him know if he needs additional troops patrolling that stretch of road to let me know. I may have to contact Wyman and work something out with House Manderly as well since most hitting that crossroads are coming to and from White Harbor.”

Walys offered, “No news regarding Queenscr...er, Achyldenloch, since the House Umber and House Norrey since it is Winter and not the planting season as yet, but I believe Lord Umber’s heir will be here to pay his respects. I believe he’s been recently married to a Karsi Norrey tying the Umbers and the Mountain Clans together for this venture with House Stark.”

Rickard responded, “Well I suppose thank the Old Gods for the neglect that the Crown has shown the North also means they’re looking the other way when we decide to go back to being able to provide more for ourselves to last through the Winter. I’ll be seeing Jon Umber on his arrival here.”  Rickard paused for a moment, “Moving on. As far as other projects of reconstruction, any news from House Reed and House Quagg?”

Maester Walys handed Lord Rickard a raven scroll after which Rickard breaks the seal and reads it. The scroll reads:

Ground preparation completed. Foundations of outer walls complete using existing stone. Stonemasons from House Flint and House Slate recommend beginning of walls within next few moons once ground has settled. Assuming safe passage for blocks of granite from Grey Harbor quarries secured as well given the Ryswell betrothal as is funding for labor through House Stark’s coffers?  Sending my son Howland with full report on everything. 

Lord Alaric of House Reed and Lord of Greywater Watch

P.S. Howland has the greensight and has pledged himself to assist the sons of House Stark being gifted by the Old Gods. 

Rickard stated, “They’ve finished the foundation for the outer and inner walls of Moat Caillin for reconstruction. Now it’s a matter begining the construction on the walls and shipping the granite in. Their big concern is House Ryswell and by extension House Dustin given the land shipping from the Stony Shore logistically that should be solved in a fortnight.”

Walys stated, “Yes. Lord Rickard, we may be robbing the left hand to pay the right.”

“What is your concern?”

“The Glovers and their own vassal houses as well as the Mormonts are not happy with the change in who the Lord of Sea Dragon Point is,” said Lord Walys.  “There is talk that Rodrik Ryswell wishes to rule the Sunset Coast.”

Rickard raised his eyebrow, “And why do you think he agreed to the betrothal to Eddard?”

Maester Walys stated, “It is a known fact that those who have been in captivity as long as Eddard tend to be ... “

Rickard leans back , “Weak. Easily manipulated and dominated, losing sense of self, et cetera.....I’m assuming you’re going to say?”

Maester Walys nodded somewhat unsure , “Yes.”

Rickard states, "You know there are rumors about Eddard to the contrary."

Maester Walys nods, "Yes, but..."

Rickard leaned forward. “What I say does not leave this room, understood?”

Poole and Walys both nodded.

Rickard began, “Lord Jon Arryn does not want this publically acknowledged, especially given there are indications that some folks who live behind the Black Wall in Volantis are involved, those with possible ties to the Crown.  Tyroshi slavers were working within the Vale and had been for almost a decade. It was a rather extensive operation involving the Vale Mountain Clans and a few of the minor Vale houses.”

Rickard continued, “The operation itself had the sole purpose of turning out the most vicious and hardened fighters for the fighting pits in Slavers’ Bay or if vicious and disciplined enough, sold as obedient soldiers similar to the Unsullied out of Astapor. This went on for years unnoticed until the Vale Mountain Clans started working with House Hersy among other minor houses in running the gambling operations in these arenas.” Rickard paused, “Eddard had survived seven years of this, before leading six fighting slaves in a bloody revolt against their captors in one of the arenas. Eddard was the only one of the slaves who rebelled to survive, but not after klling everyone in the Clan of the Bloody Ram and the Brothers of the Black Goat, as well as twenty four sellswords and ten Tyroshi slavers.”

Rickard took a breath, “Lord Jon Arryn’s raven to me indicated Eddard was anything but weak and easily dominated. He is very intelligent, very cunning, and is near unmatched in single combat. Lord Arryn also noted that House Tollett reported some unnatural happenings whilst he was healing at the castle in Grey Glen. Apparently wolves had gathered around the castle and were howling day and night since Eddard had arrived there and suddenly stopped two days later when Eddard was more lucid and awake.  This I think was confirmed by my conversation with my younger son Benjen this morning. Eddard is a warg as well and Benjen indicated that he may be a very powerful one.”

“Eddard is more likely to bring all the Houses along the Sunset Coast to heel than he is to be dominated by Rodrik Ryswell”  said Rickard before pausing for emphasis, “...or Rogar Bolton.”

“Rogar Bolton?” queried Poole.

“Bolton’s lands are nowhere near the Rills and his son Roose’s first wife, Elspeth Condon, had died under suspicious circumstances. Tell me: what would motivate Rodrik Ryswell to betroth his eldest daughter to Roose Bolton?”

Walys merely nodded in realization as Rickard continued, “Rogar Bolton thinks he’s one of the Red Kings come again and seems to be waiting for the opportunity to act on it. Brandon’s dishonoring of Ryswell’s younger daughter Barbrey and Rodrik Ryswell’s subsequent outrage gave Rogar Bolton the opportunity to move some pieces into place.“

Walys remained thoughtful, “Perhaps Eddard can work through familiar relations to counteract such? How much like his father is Roose? We rarely see him. There have been whispers amongst the smallfolk that Elspeth Bolton was flayed by Rogar in order to teach Roose a lesson in obedience, so perhaps Eddard can work with that given Roose is married to Bethany and will be his goodbrother once Eddard weds Barbrey.”

Rickard Stark pondered the suggestion for a moment, “We’ll table this discussion for now on how to deal with the Boltons and their influence on the Ryswells. Most likely Eddard may find his own way of dealing with such. What’s next on the agenda?”

Poole stated, “We’re already having members of the various Houses coming in for the Winter Gathering of the Lords and the Betrothal Feast for Barbrey and Eddard. I’ve had my staff preparing all the Guest Keeps’ chambers for the great Houses. We have additional residences meant for longer winters within Winterfell’s walls which we’ve opened up for the additional capacity.”

Poole continued, “And Lord Jon Umber will be arriving on the morrow to pay his respects. I do believe we mentioned him earlier. I have him tentative for after the midday meal assuming he arrives in the morning."

Rickard replied, "Thanks Eldric. Walys if you don't mind I'd like to look over the finalized copies of the betrothal contract and the vassal house contract with House Ryswell."

Chapter Text

Late Afternoon - Night, 17th day, 10th Moon,  280 A.C.

Jon Umber, also known as the Greatjon due to his massive size,  had arrived down in Wintertown from Last Hearth along with some of the other Northern Lords’ sons including Galbart and Robett Glover and their young cousin Ethan, the rather rowdy Maege Mormont, and Rickard Karstark along with his cousins Cregan and Arnolf. He was looking forward to a long night of boasting , drinking and possibly picking a ‘friendly fight’ with other Northern nobles he would see only occasionally. 

The giant man however decided to pay his respects to his liege lord first before he headed back to Wintertown. He arrived at the Smoking Log last of the group and was greeted with an overly affectionate welcome from a slightly intoxicated Maege Mormont. 

“Maege, I’m flattered but I’m a married man, “ chuckled Jon Umber. He was half-tempted though. Despite Maege wearing black leather ringmail instead of a northern-style gown, it seemed to fit well in all the right places, barely hiding the fact that this woman had a beautiful figure. Jon Umber had known Maege since they were very young as well and the flirting just seemed to be a tradition given each of them shared their first kiss with each other but had gone separate ways regarding their romantic life.

“I know, just a bit o’ flirtin’,” the diiminutive she-bear chuckled, holding her ale, “How’s Karsi doing? I heard she just gave the Greatjon twin daughters.”

The Greatjon had married a Norrey woman to solidify the Umbers relationship with the Mountain Clans, given House Umber and all the Clans of the Northern Mountains working with House Stark to reclaim the New Gift, given away by Southrons at the threat of Dragonfire to the Night’s Watch who then left the farmland they were supposed to work neglected.  Greatjon remembered his  demand to rename the castle something other than Queenscrown. Achyldenloch was Lord Wull’s suggestion since it mean ‘Oak Forest Lake’ in Old Tongue. Oddly dull sounding name but that was actually the name of the once abandoned village and castle before it was renamed centuries ago. But it seem to have struck a chord with the Northerners who began refer to it as such again within the North. 

“Yes. She’s recovered well actually. Wish she were here but .... well House Umber has to make an appearance in Winterfell,” replied Greatjon,  “How’s your little ones?”

“Dacey just turned eleven  namedays,” replied Maege, “Brought her down from Bear Island actually along with her sister Alysanne. Aly’s upstairs asleep with Ros, daughter of Bronwyn who’s one of the brothelworkers who is off tonight. She’s looking after my kids while I’m down here in the tavern tonight. I’ll be heading into Winterfell tomorrow morning when Jeor gets here with the rest of the Mormont Clan. I was hoping perhaps Lord Stark might see to making her Lady of Sea Dragon Point with young Benjen but...looks like Benjen may be more in line to marry one of the Clan’s daughters.”

The Greatjon shrugged, “I’d wait on that anyways. Both Benjen and Dacey are still young. The Stark has enough on his plate right now to deal with as far as vassal contracts.”

Maege scoffed, “I heard. Fucking Rodrik Ryswell the nerve of ...”

The Greatjon put the index finger of his giant hand on Maege’s lips, “He saw an opportunity and took it. Also it isn’t Rodrik Ryswell who’s behind this. My guess is Rogar Bolton.” 

“How so?”

”Lord Ryswell’s eldest daughter Bethany was just wedded to Rogar’s son Roose. His second wife. I wouldn’t let my daughters near a fucking Bolton, especially after no one really knows how Elspeth Condon died. “  stated the Greatjon, “Frankly by fucking Barbrey Ryswell like he would one of the ladies in the establishment next door, Brandon Stark gave the Boltons and Ryswells the opportunity to move the Houses from the Northwestern Territories and Bear Island out of the way of control of Sea Dragon’s Point and the Stony Shore. With Lord Rodrik Glover out of the way as regent Lord of the territory since Rickard’s second son, Eddard, now the Lord of Sea Dragon Point,  as he is over the age of majority, Rogar’s going to make his move once Barbrey and Eddard are married and have an heir. Rogar most likely thinks Eddard’s soft since he’d been fostering with Southrons.”

Maege says, “So do you think Eddard’s soft?”

The Greatjon shrugged, “Met him once when were were real young, he was quiet. Held his own against Brandon in the sparring yard but never was aggressive against his older brother.”

The Greatjon shook his head afterwards as Maege said, “Well come on, let’s ‘ead over to our table and get you some ale.”  Maege guided the Greatjon towards 

The Greatjon smiled ear to ear. “Ah....that’s what I like to hear!” said the giant of a man as he followed the diminutive she-bear over to a table where others were seated.  Maege then decided to introduce the Greatjon in the manner only Maege could

“Okay, Jon, these three fine young men who seem to be immune to the seductive wiles of us Bear Island women are Robett Glover,” said Maege pointing to the young brown haired man who is just beginning to grow a beard. “His brother Galbart,” she continued pointing to the young clean-shaven man who looked slightly older and was wearing similar heavy ringmail to Maege. “And next to him is their young cousin, Ethan, who has recently been made Lord Brandon Stark’s squire” she finished, indicating the lanky young man with typical brownish Glover hair.  The Glovers all nodded to Greatjon in greetings. 
 
“Over here with the long face looking like he wants to see who can hold a scowl the longest,” said Maege jokingly is Rickard Karstark. Rickard had typical Stark features with dark-brown hair but had a long and narrow face. He was dressed in black ringmail with a black woolen surcoat with the Karstark sigil emblazoned upon it. 

Rickard Karstark responded, looking at the Greatjon as he stood up, ‘Well the fact I had to listen to some daffy Bear Island woman ramble on about her little daughter for hours, I view the arrival of an Umber Giant a welcome rescue.” Rickard actually smiled, “How the fuck are ya, Greatjon?!”

Rickard handed the Greatjon a pitcher of ale which he handled pretty much like a slightly large mug and took a swig after it was in his hand, “Good. Have twin daughters now. Heard your married a Stane?”

“Aye. I never understood why we hated the Skaggs so much. They’re still First Men and stick to the Old Gods as much as we do and they fucking hate wildlings more than us,” said Rickard. “My cousins Cregan and Arnolf are here as well. Father will be arriving in a couple of days for Eddard Stark and Barbrey Ryswell’s betrothal feast.”

Aside Robett grumbled, “Fucking Ryswells.”

Galbart shrugged, “Uncle Rodrik Glover should be stopping in here later. We’ll ask him for the full story on that.”

Rickard Karstark interjected, “Bloody hell quit grumbling. You’ll be dealing with lackeys of the Flayed Man to your south just like we do.”

Greatjon looked at Rickard Karstark, “I wouldn’t be so sure. Just came back from Winterfell. I briefly met Lord Rickard Stark’s young son Benjen who may end up with the Umbers and the Clans in Achyldenloch. The young Stark is a warg and has a direwolf pup following him around. I asked him about his direwolf on the way out through the South Gate, and he said Eddard’s a warg as well.”

As some other conversation was going on behind him, most likely more guests arriving at the table Greatjon assumed,  he continued,  “I’ve dealt with wildlings who brought their wargs with. They’re usually not exactly the type to be easily ordered around.”  

Rickard Karstark responded, “No they aren’t.”

Someone stepped in behind the Greatjon, “But you Umbers usually are. Move your chained giant bulk or I’ll make you taste my silver gauntlet!”  Maege cackled with glee at the mirth whilst she saw a man much shorter than him with a clean shaven pate and a well groomed but short grey beard, dressed in ringmail with a scarlet woolen cloak fastened about his shoulders with a silver gauntlet shaped clasp. The Greatjon move the table slightly aside as folks gave him room as if he were about to pummel the man for the insult. The short man merely had an ear-to-ear smile and before the Greatjon could react the man said in a pleasant yet somewhat gravelly tone which calmed the Greatjon,  “How are you, little Jon? Haven’t seen you since your grandfather Hoarfrost was bouncing you on his knee.”  Rodrik Glover was one of his father’s oldest friends and the Greatjon had pleasant memories of hearing of his father’s exploits with the ‘Glover uncle’ when they were his age.

“Rodrik fucking Glover!” said the Greatjon, grinning himself before taking a swig of ale from his pitcher, “I’m well actually. Married a Norrey, delivered  twin girls a few moons ago.”

“Good. Good,” said Rodrik, as Maege came to give him a greeting similar to the one she gave the Greatjon. Rodrik turned to curtail her drunken affections, “Tempting. Very tempting, my angel of a she-bear. But we have a sennight or so during the Winter Gathering.”

The Greatjon was curious, “So Karstark ‘ere and I were just discussing young Benjen Stark. I see he’s got a direwolf.”

Rodrik Glover nodded, taking a deep drink from his mug of ale, finishing it off as one of the Smoking Log’s wenches brought by another round of pitchers then grabbing another quickly, “Runt of it’s litter, survived his older brother and mother getting shot with bloody crossbows more suited for a castle siege. Part of the reason why I rode all night with Benjen and his sister, the Ryswell girl and her guards. Just found out the Wolfswood’s got the biggest fucking direwolf pack I’d ever heard of.”

Everyone was all ears on Rodrik Glover at this moment. The Greatjon said, “Assuming Lord Rickard Stark will be executing the poachers who shot the mother?”

“Won’t have to worry about that,” said Rodrik Glover. “Direwolf pack took care of that. Cassel’s runner just came back before I left. They found the bodies of the hunters.” Rodrik Glover took another gulp of his ale as Maege drank hers and filled her mug. topping off the elder Glover’s mug after her pout.

“Bet they had trouble identifying them,” remarked Maege. “Must’ve torn them apart.”

“No,” said Rodrik Glover. “They were actually fairly intact. The runner said Cassel and his rangers found them with a large chunk bitten out off their necks with their necks snapped, lying in the middle of a grove of weirwoods half a league from the hunting camp.”

Rickard Karstark piped in “Sounds like the Old Gods sat in judgement of them.”

Rodrik Glover looked at Rickard Karstark, “The alpha of that pack sat in judgement of them. My guess is he’s the one who killed them too. The direwolves follow the old way.”  Greatjon took this in with the older Glover’s reference. The way of the North is the Old Way. If a lord judges the sentence to be death for one who committed a crime or offense, he will be the one to swing the sword. “At any rate, I would be very careful hunting in the Wolfswood. The pack is a dozen or so direwolf males, not counting their mates and pups, which is a good size. I think Toregg documented about two or three larger than that north of the Wall, but it’s sizable.”

Rodrik Glover continued, “Lord Rickard Stark’s a bit pissed too from what I gather as it’s been a mess. The hunters were a Lord Addam Terrick, second son of Lord Jason Terrick, a minor House in the Riverlands. His two squires are Frey bastards. Lord Stark was sent a raven to Manderly just this morning. The Silent Sisters from the Sept in White Harbor are going to be arriving tomorrow at Winterfell to transport the bodies away.”

The Greatjon had one question burning into his mind, “They had hunting permits though didn’t they?”

Lord Rodrik Glover nodded, “Aye they did, signed by Brandon Stark for Wintertail Deer and Boar.”

The Greatjon also asked, “What happened to the pelts?

Lord Rodrik Glover took a deep drink responding, “We held a ceremony early yesterday morning in the Godswood to appease the Old Gods. Benjen and Shadow both prayed as the Shadow’s mother’s corpse which include the pelt and that of another female who was nursing a litter were buried as near as we could to the Heart Tree. We marked the graves with weirwood saplings. The Northern Grey Wolf pelts I think are also being brought back to Winterfell. Not sure what’s happening with those.”

Maege piped in after downing the rest of her ale, “Starks will probably keep them. I don’t see them being send down to House Terrick.”  

The Greatjon was still curious, “Wait a moment.  You said buried the corpses of the two direwolves yesterday morning, but Lord Terrick was only found today, Lord Rodrik.”

Lord Rodrik Glover sighed, “We got a warning from the direwolf pack themselves. Benjen was bonded to the pup, named Shadow. An old direwolf  and Shadow showed up the night we arrived at the hunting cabin and then the old direwolf led us back until about halfway back to Winterfell.  Benjen noted to me upon our return that the old direwolf was being warged by Eddard until about I guess half an hour before the old direwolf departed us. We took the corpses and pelts of the direwolves with us on the wagon used by the hunters to transport such.”

“So Eddard Stark’s a fucking warg?” asked the Greatjon. 

Lord Rodrik Glover nodded, “Aye. And a fairly powerful one at that. I’d be a betting man he’s no longer bonded with the older direwolf and bonded with the alpha of the pack. There’s no way an already aggravated pack would allow Cassel and his men through to retrieve the bodies of Lord Terrick’s second son and his squires, let alone kill them in the first place like it was an execution. No wild predator does that.”  Lord Rodrik Glover then looks at his young kin, “That’s why I’m not worried about Rodrik fucking Ryswell ... or Rogar Bolton ... If Eddard turns out to be the man who I think he is, he may just put the respect for the Old Gods back into that Red King pretender.”

Maege had one of the chambermaids from the Inn standing next to her, evidently trying to bring her back to her room. The Greatjon shrugged, thinking it most likely being three nameday old Alysanne waking up wondering where her mother is. 

A few hours passed and the Greatjon was on his fifth pitcher. Lord Rodrik Glover seemed to be the only one pacing himself. And everyone in the inn was singing along with a bard predictably playing the Dornishman’s Wife or the Bear and the Maiden Fair. 

A large blacksmith named Imre Ironarms from Green Moors, a small village, halfway between Winterfell and Torrhen’s Square, who looked like he had giant’s blood as well decided to challenge the Greatjon to an armwrestling contest. The patrons in the bar all placed bets on who would win, and all was going well until...

The Greatjon felt some ale splash across his arm causing him to lose his concentration and allow Imre Ironarms to win the round. The Greatjon was not only angered but also to the point of drinking where his judgement and restraint was impaired. The Greatjon stood from his seat at the table, and even Imre Ironarms stepped back a bit as the Greatjon looked for the source of the who threw the ale. 

The Greatjon found his target immediately. A small Crannogman wearing  light leather armor which was an odd mottled dark green and black and high leather boots made of the same type hide, was getting up from the floor and had two empty pitchers of ale in his hand. The Greatjon began to charge the small Crannogman to put the fear of the Old Gods in him for the slight of bathing him in ale during a match he had money riding on. 

The Crannogman scrambled backwards as the Greatjon charged, “Get back here you little frogeater. You want to throw ale at people, you threw it at the wrong....”  Just as the Greatjon was about to reach the Crannogman who was crabwalking backwards frantically to escape his grasp, he felt two points of impact on his shoulderblades and shoulders, and an increasing pressure on his neck and head. His breathing became labored as his whole world turned black.  The last thing he heard  was a low voice which sounded halfway between a wolf growling and a man speaking, “I think you need to sleep this one off, Umber.”

Early Morning, 18th day, 10th Moon,  280 A.C.

The Greatjon awoke much later to a tongue licking him. He awoke to see a dark-grey furred wolf sniffing the left side of his face and licking him. The wolf  backed off when he heard a boy’s voice say, “Shadow, to me.” The wolf  moved back over in the dirction of the boy’s voice.  The Greatjon slowly sat up and focused his eyes to see he was actually in a bed at the in, wearing only his tunic and leather armor britches, his boots and the rest of his clothes on the the table opposite the bed. 

He looked over and saw a boy of maybe two and ten or three and ten at most with very dark hair and wolf-grey eyes as well as a long face standing next to the dark-grey wolf. Standing next to the boy with her hand on his shoulder was a young girl slightly younger but slightly taller with long dark hair in a very formal hairstyle of interlocking northern braids with a wreath of blue winter roses woven in. The boy was dressed in a dark grey woolen britches with a tunic  and a belt around hist waist with a loop holding a short sword. The girl was dressed in a white-linen formal gown with grey-woolen trim and a dark grey formal heavy cloak with greyish fur around collar and shoulders, the clasp was the sigil of House Mormont.  The girl looked at the Greatjon for a moment, “Ma! Lord Umber’s awake!”  That must be Dacey. She’s grown like a weed since I last saw her, thought the Greatjon. The boy looks like a Stark. Must be Benjen. 

The Greatjon saw Maege Mormont enter the room wearing and informal northern-style gown, holding a smaller version of herself  in her arms before she put her down on the floor. Three nameday old Alysanne made a beeline for the wolf before hugging it tightly.  The wolf seemed to endure the  toddler’s affections after a quick sniff of the child.  

Maege looked at the Greatjon, “How are you feeling?”

“Bit of a headache. Never blacked out like that after only that many pitchers of ale,” replied the Greatjon. “What in the Old Gods name happened to me ?”

The boy answered chuckling,  “Someone thought it would be funny to trip Lord Alaric Reed’s son whilst he was carrying two pitchers of ale back to the table where he and my brother were sitting. He accidentally spilled both in your direction. My brother decided to save Howland Reed from your temper.”

“Brandon did that?” said the Greatjon.

Benjen shook his head, "Brandon's still heading hear from White Harbor with the House Manderly."

The boy chuckled looking at Dacey who was also amused. The Greatjon noticed that the two were holding hands. Maybe Maege will get her way on this if that is Benjen Stark, he thought briefly. Maege shook her head, "That was Eddard Stark who leaped upon you and put you in a hold until you passed out.”

Chapter Text

DACEY I
Late Afternoon - Night, 17th day, 10th Moon,  280 A.C.

Dacey Mormont was bored. Her mother decided to bring her down to Wintertown a few days early and there was literally nothing to do. Her little sister Alysane had a playmate at least with little Ros. Bronwyn, Ros’ mother, was a nice woman but knew nothing about what interested her. How does one really discuss the best way to hunt elk with someone whose experiences with such is limited to stories related by a hunter that had her in the brothel?, she thought.  Dacey wasn’t going to be trapped in this darn room at the Inn for another day. 

Dacey decided she might go hunting herself at the edge the Wolfswood. The perimeter was maybe half a league away. Dacey figured maybe catch a good sized Wintertail Deer or maybe a few rabbits. Dressed in heavy woolen tunic and britches along with a heavy dark-grey cloak with her house’s sigil on the clasp, Dacey grabbed her bow and quiverful of arrows and ran out the door whilst her mother was downstairs with the other lords, most likely drinking and flirting with the overly large Umber her mother referred to as the Greatjon. She  rolled her eyes at the thought of that and headed down the backstairs which allowed access to the rooms at the Smoking Log Inn but did not go through the tavern portion. 

Dacey gradually moved from the clearing into the woods as a light snow began to fall, which made visibility slightly worse given the sun’s rays to the west were gradually disappearing behind the horizon. But she was lucky as after a couple of hours it was night and the full moon had risen enough to give her better visibility than before. Dacey had spotted a rather large Wintertail Stag and nestled in beside a large tree around fifty yards. 

She raised her bow slowly as she took aim at the stag and nocked her arrow and took a breath. Just as she released the arrow, she felt a breath on her neck causing her to instinctively pitch forward. The arrow would have been straight through the stag’s eyesocket if was not startled. The arrow was slightly high grazing the bottom of the left brow tine of the antlers. The stag was immediately startled and darted swiftly back into the forest. 

Dacey looked to see where the breath came from and was face to face with a wolf with dark bluish-grey colored fur watching her silently for a moment. It cocked its head to the side for a moment as its eyes flashed from a golden hue to greyish then back to golden. A warg,  she thought. Just my luck. 

“You made me miss,” Dacey said at the wolf. The wolf had a different reaction than she had thought it would have and she looked down as it buried its snout in its forepaws which looked overly large for its body and his head and jaw seemed overly massive for the size of his body. Then it dawned on her this was a direwolf  and it was just a pup. 

Dacey placed her hand on the direwolfs head tentatively to scratch it behind the ears, praying to the Old Gods she would not be missing the arm afterwards. She was rewarded with a relatively calm wolf who seemed to enjoy the attention, “Is your warg still in there?” The direwolf pup seemed to whimper slightly as it demanded a little more attention instinctually. It was evident that the warging may have broken for now. “Can you take me to them?” The direwolf pup seemed intent on trying to play with Dacey letting out a rising whimper, batting it’s front paws at her. “You don’t understand anything I’m saying to you, do you?” said Dacey futilely, then to no one in particular she says, “Here I am speaking to the sigil of House Stark and I ... “

Once the direwolf pup heard the word ‘Stark’ and hopped up beckoning Dacey to follow heading back towards Wintertown. Dacey ran back over the now snow-covered ground towards Wintertown. They arrived at the North End of  Wintertown and the direwolf pup picked up the pace as he went to intercept an older man bald man walking with a younger boy.  Dacey picked up the the pace herself and could feel her lungs burning and her legs getting sore as she pushed herself to catch up with the direwolf pup. The boy stopped and said something to the older man. The older man continued onward into town as the boy awaited the direwolf pup.

“Shadow, to me,” said the boy in a calm and somewhat cheerful voice. The direwolf hesitated slightly, looking back towards Dacey briefly, then went to the boy’s side. The boy had dark hair which was somewhat shaggy and about shoulder length. He had a long gaunt face and greyish eyes with a slight tint of blue in them. Dacey stared at the boy for a moment noting he most likely was a Stark or related given his features. Dacey finished her running a few yards in front of the boy, out of breath and shaky on her legs.

“H....H.....Hello,” said Dacey out of breath. She fell forward and the boy stepped forward to catch her and helped her to steady herself. 

“Never seen anyone try to outrun a direwolf let alone chase one, “ said the boy smiling. “But there’s always a first time for everything.”  He was still holding her by her elbows from catching her as he stepped back, grabbing her right hand, “Forgive me for being rude and not introducing myself. I am Benjen Stark, Son of Lord Rickard Stark of Winterfell, and ... I guess ... future Lord of Achyldenloch now....”  Benjen kissed her knuckles briefly in a manner befitting a young Lord greeting a young Lady. 

Dacey’s eyes went wide. This was the boy who was supposed to be Lord of Sea Dragon’s Point until recently from what her mother had said. Her mother had been hoping for a betrothal soon and a wedding in a few years which would make her Lady of Sea Dragon’s Point, as well as unite House Mormont closer to House Stark.  Dacey wasn’t too keen on this as she felt she should be like her mother, and be ready to marry when she was ready if she even wanted to. Looking at Benjen now she wasn’t so sure as she seemed at a loss for words, “I’m Mormont Lady of Dacey House....I mean...I’m Lady Dacey of House Mormont.”  Dacey seemed to be turning red in her cheeks with embarrassment. 

Benjen smiled with a slight chuckle, “I was heading to the Smoking Log Inn with Lord Rodrik Glover. Care to join me, Lady Dacey of House Mormont?”

“No...Yes....I mean....”

“Well which is it ?”

Dacey composed herself briefly, “My mother is staying there with my little sister Alysane. Alysane is being watched by Bronwyn, one of the .... “

“Whores. Yes, I’ve met her she’s nice.” said Benjen jovially.

Dacey’s eyes narrowed, “Aren’t you a little young for.... “

“Just because I can hold a conversation with a whore occasionally does not mean I’m a customer of hers,” chuckled Benjen. 

Dacey had a laugh herself when she thought about it for a moment, “Fair enough.”

“You’ve probably worked up an appetite after chasing Shadow, Lady Dacey,” said Benjen. “Care to head to the Smoking Log Inn with Shadow and myself?”

“Uh...” said Dacey “I’d rather not...I basically had to sneak out of the room as I was bored.”

Benjen thought for a moment then offered his arm, “Up for a tour of Winterfell, or at least the kitchens?”

Dacey smiled slightly and accepted the offer. The two walked along the mile long path towards the South Gate (also known as Wintertown Gate),  Shadow following along beside them. They walked in the massive gatehouse in the outer wall passing by a couple of guards who merely nodded recognizing Benjen. The main bridges were already lowered as Benjen, Dacey and Shadow walked towards the inner gatehouse at the South Gate.

There were two guards at the inner gate and one nodded saying, “Evening. Lord Benjen”

“Evening, Tom. I met my friend Lady Dacey Mormont en route to Wintertown and figured we’d come back here for something from the kitchens instead. Shadow most likely will want a run around the Godswood.”

“Aye, M’lord. Enjoy your visit to Winterfell, M’lady Dacey.” replied the guard with a good-natured tip of his helm. 

They confinued the hallways of the Southgate entering the south ward of Winterfell. Benjen pointed out the building as he entered, “By the way to your right is the the south stables and a smaller guest house along with the south stablemaster’s residence, and to your left is the woodsman’s residence along with the large building we store all our firewood for the south part of the castle.” Dacey was still trying to get over how big Winterfell actually was given her frame of reference was actually Sea Dragon’s Point which had just been built.”We’ve got all the keeps where most of our staff live as well as food storage and our ‘farm’ in the ward beyond to the left, and in the ward to your right is the tiltyard, a few more residences and our brewer’s residence and brewery....Yes we make out own ale.” Benjen looked at the morningstar at Dacey’s side and offered, “Maybe you and I can spar in the tiltyard or practice our archery in the ward near the First Keep with Ser Rodrick Cassel sometime later whilst you’re down here.”

Dacey was taken aback, “You don’t mind if ladies....”

“What shoot a bow? Carry a weapon?” said Benjen. “You’re a she-bear. I’d be surprised if you didn’t know how to use a weapon. What with Bear Island having to deal with the threat of the squids constantly. Besides my sister would probably have a few things to say to me if I did mind.”

Dacey and Benjen continued across the yard to the next gate which was to the Ward of the inner keep. It was a castle unto itself with several buildings inside, the largest being the Great Keep opposite the Inner Keep Gatehouse. The Great Keep of Winterfell alone was even larger than the Castle at Sea Dragon’s Point, and that castle Dacey had said was the biggest she had seen in her life, even larger than Last Hearth or Deepwood Motte or the huge longhouse of House Mormont on Bear Island. 

“Winterfell is it’s own huge town,” said Dacey thinking out loud, “In fact it’s bigger than Wintertown.”

“True but remember Wintertown is seasonal, it’s pretty dead during the Summer, save for the Smoking Log Inn and surrounding buildings used as residence for travellers not staying in Winterfell,” said Benjen. “My father however says if his plans for the North go as planned Wintertown might need to expand into a regular town just due to the trade coming in on both shores and Winterfell and Wintertown being the major midpoint which isn’t a military outpost between White Harbor and Rillstone Harbor.”

“But you’re not going to be Lord of the Sunset Coast anymore,” said Dacey. 

“And what difference would it make with my father’s plans, if I am or If I’m not?” replied Benjen as they continued to walk towards the gatehouse of the Inner Keep.

Dacey looked at Benjen, “I think that’s why some folks are angry regarding Rillstone, notably my mum.  We wanted you as the Stark on our coast with a Glover as your Castellan, from what my mum had been saying, “

“You’ll still have a Stark as the Lord of Sea Dragon’s Point and effectively everything between there and the Kingsroad from the Neck all the way up past  Winterfell  to just North of Long Lake,” stated Benjen. Dacey noted it sounded like Benjen knew something she didn’t but would soon find out. 

“But my mum says Rodrick Ryswell....”

“My future goodfather knows horses and the Rills,” said Benjen. “He doesn’t know direwolves.”  Benjen stopped holding Dacey by the shoulders for a moment, “I know you know I’m a warg as you addressed Shadow as such before Lord Rodrik Glover woke me from my warging to walk into town. I’m also one not to lie to the someone so beautiful that I can’t take my eyes away from them, whose company I’ve enjoyed this past hour or so. Believe me when I say my brother Eddard ....”  Dacey’s mind tuned out everything after she heard his sentence about him thinking her beautiful. That had never happened before. She snapped back to reality hearing Benjen’s final words in the sentence. “... when you meet Eddard.”

Dacey merely nodded. Benjen seemed to give her a glance for a moment as if he might need to repeat himself regarding the statement about his brother Eddard. They continued through the Inner Keep’s gatehouse as Benjen pointed out the Great Hall, “We’re all going to be in there in a few days for the feast Winter Gathering of the Lords and for my brother Eddard’s betrothal feast. I’m not sure if you’re staying in the guest rooms on the upper floors there or in the guest manse which overlooks the Godswood. “  The continued forward to the Great Keep, “And ahead of us is the Great Keep, where my family stays and some very important guests. Most likely House Ryswell will be staying in the spare rooms there since their daughter Barbrey is about to formally be betrothed to  my brother Eddard.” Shadow followed along and Benjen noticed for some reason he kept brushing his side against Dacey who would respond with a brief scratch behind the ears or a pat on his side. 

They walked towards the stairs of the great keep end and walked up before going inside. Benjen stated, “Okay large building. Easy to get lost if you don’t live here. We’re heading to the kitchens in the servants’ corridors since it’s the quickest route. Just remember once we get to the large spiral staircase which is the rear east tower to take the doorway on the right as the doorway straight ahead leads to the corridors behind the glass gardens.”  Benjen smiled as he said this. 

“You sure you want to be a Lord of a Castle?” said Dacey playfully. “With your directional skills, you could be the best First Ranger of the Night’s Watch.”

“Tempting as it is, I have a duty to my pa_ .. House,” said Benjen. “Brandon will be Lord of Winterfell, Eddard will be Lord of Sea Dragon’s Point, I will be Lord of Achyldenloch, and our cousin Rickard Karstark will be Lord of Karhold. My father has made direct vassal contracts with House Manderly, House Flint, House Glover, and House Karstark to ensure us Starks have something better than just surviving to the next generation when he’s gone.”

They rounded another corner and Shadow began to run ahead as he could smell the kitchens. Shadow entered the kitchens area followed by Dacey into an area which seemed  much brighter due to the number of candles in the cast iron chandeliers above. The room had ovens and hearths on one side and on the other were some tables mainly meant for food preparation although one at the end had bench seating along one side.  Dacey saw an old woman being assisted by another woman about her mom’s age bringing out a bunch of pies about half a foot each in diameter and and third a foot in height topped with what appeared to be some light colored gravy.  Two other women were sitting on the bench as well, both were dressed as though they were noblewomen. 

The one on the corner was only a little taller than her with a relatively muscular build for a woman not from Bear Island or other places in the Far North. He had long wavy dark brown hair braided in a single braid down her back and a long face. Her grey eyes were almost the same color as Benjen’s.  Dacey guessed this was most likely Lyanna Stark, Benjen’s older sister, which meant the other woman was someone whose father had earned quite a few Houses’ ire along the northwestern part of the North. 

This woman was tall and graceful looking and didn’t look like she’d ever been on a hunt, let alone in battle or even handled a weapon. She was dressed similar to Lyanna    Barbrey Ryswell may worship the Old Gods and have descended from the First Men but she looks like a Southron Andal to me, thought Dacey. Or am I just thinking that because she’s a Ryswell and I don’t like what her father has done?

Benjen called to the four women, “Got room at the table for two more and a direwolf?”

The old woman smiled an almost toothless smile, “I knew you couldn’t stay away from here long, Small Benjen Stark.” She motioned for Benjen and Dacey to approach. Dacey thought at the old woman’s accent being almost archaic as if her original language was Old Tongue but wasn’t a wildling. Skagosi perhaps? thought Dacey. She called him Young Benjen Stark using Small as a title almost. Was there a Great Benjen Stark?

Shadow circled around to just beside Benjen. The old woman looked at Shadow, “And I saved some of the auroch bones with some meat still on such for a treat for you.” Shadow chuffed enthusiastically as the old woman motioned to the kitchen woman went to grab a platter of a couple of lower rear shanks, freshly butchered with blood still dripping from them. Shadow went to work on his treat immediately. 

“Nan, you are correct,” said Benjen as he bent down to give her a hug as if family, “We smelled Nan’s kidney pies as far as the edge of the Wolfswood and just had to return.”

So this was the Old Nan’ mum had told us about, thought Dacey. She had been around Winterfell forever. Mum said she was a nursemaid around the time of Benjen’s Great Grandfather, Willam and his brother Artos.  Maybe Great Benjen Stark was Artos’ son to Nan?

“And who’s the lovely she-bear?” said Old Nan, noticing the bear-shaped sigil on her cloak’s clasp. The kitchen woman began to distribute the kidney pies to plates in front of where  Lyanna and Barbrey were sitting, and the two seats on the bench next to Barbrey. Lyanna and Barb both gracefully put the linens in front of them on the front of their gowns in their lap.  

“Oh...how rude of me. Old Nan, this is Lady Dacey Mormont,” said Benjen. “This is Old Nan. She’d taken care of all of us when we were all very young and makes the best damn kidney pies I’ve ever tasted.” He then motioned to Lyanna, “This is my sister Lyanna Stark, who is back here from her fostering in the Rills. She’s currently betrothed to Robert Baratheon....”

Lyanna smiled as she picked up the mug of ale in front of her raising as if to give a toast, “Future Lady Paramount of the Stormlands at your service,” Lyanna said in good-natured but humorous tone. 

“Pleased to meet you, Lady Lyanna Stark,” Dacey smiled briefly, nodding towards Lyanna. Lyanna seemed to be studying her for some reason that she couldn’t put a finger on. 

“And this is her foster-sister and my brother Eddard’s betrothed, Lady Barbrey Ryswell,” said Benjen, motioning towards the other woman. Dacey forced a smile nodding in a similar manner as she did towards Barbrey, but there was obviously no affection there.

“Please to meet you, Lady Barbrey,” said Dacey.  It was obvious Barbrey felt uncomfortable around Dacey and the same was actually true for Dacey around anyone from Barbrey’s family. Benjen offered a seat to Dacey as well which was right next to Barbrey as he took the seat on the outside at the other end of the bench. 

Old Nan nodded to the kitchen woman who went back to the other side of the kitchen to clean up. She then looked at the four, “It’s getting a bit late so I hope you’ll excuse me as I assist, Marlyna with cleaning up,” said Old Nan. “I’ll be bringing my giantsblooded grandson Wylis a couple of pies for his dinner afterwards as I’m sure he’s finishing with his duties in the Great Stables..” 

Lyanna piped up before Old Nan walked off, “Thank you again for the kidney pies, Old Nan.” said Lyanna, who seemed to be ready to enjoy her  meal. Old Nan walked up slowly out of the kitchens and out the opposite end from where she, Benjen and Shadow entered, giving a feeding Shadow a quick rub on his back as she passed. Shadow responded with a brief whimper as he finished stripping the meat from the first shank.  The entire table proceeded to eat their kidney pies. Dacey herself was very hungry and had not tasted anything like this before, given the meals on Bear Island are much simpler and half the time usually involved some form of coldwater fish native to the Sunset Sea. 

Dacey finished devouring the kidney pie before anyone else although it appears Barbrey was a close second. Benjen seemed to be eating slowly for some odd reason as if he were saving room for some other meal. Dacey looked to Benjen who had half-finished his kidney pie and said, “You want the rest?”

Dacey didn’t know what to say as she was still hungry. She looked at Benjen, “You sure you don’t mind?”

“Sure, go ahead,” said Benjen. “One weird thing I found out being a warg is when the direwolf I’m bonded with eats, for some reason I’m not as hungry even though I hadn’t eaten anything. So it’s kind of hard for me to eat when Shadow’s eating.” Benjen shrugged, “I figured you probably worked up an appetite and a half from running all the way from the Wolfwood chasing Shadow.”

Dacey smiled, “Thanks.” Her expression softened and her smile grew slightly wider as Benjen rested his hand on her shoulder briefly. For a moment she blushed then she saw Lyanna watching her and Benjen’s interaction. 

Barbrey commented on Dacey’s voracious eating briefly and all Dacey heard was the word wildling. Dacey shot a glare at Barbrey, before shifting closer to Benjen on the bench.
 
Lyanna turned to Barbrey, “Be nice Barbrey. Shadow’s enough to work up anyone’s appetite. Besides odds are she may be our goodsister in the future.” Lyanna smiled towards Dacey. 

Dacey was taken aback, almost choking on her last mouthful, as she put down the fork. Benjen merely glared at his sister wondering what Lyanna was up to.

“What do you mean?  I mean we only just met although I find I like being around him alot.” said Dacey defensively.

Benjen interjected, “Lya, I was the one who asked her up here after seeing her through Shadow’s eyes.” 

Lyanna looked at Benjen then to Dacey, “So I assume he’s given you the tour of Winterfell?”

Dacey responded, “I got a tour of the ward around the South gate and  a peek at the neighbouring wards before we entered the Inner Castle and went straight to the Great Keep and through to here. I’m still in awe at how big Winterfell actually is.”

“You talk about anything else?” Lyanna pressed. Benjen was fidgeting slightly as Lyanna started questioning Dacey. 

Dacey shrugged, looking at Barbrey whilst, saying, “Well he implied that Lady Barbrey’s  father doesn’t know shit about anything but horses and his own land...and doesn’t know direwolves.”  Shadow wandered over having finished his meal and forced himself in between Dacey and Benjen. Dacey unconsciously found herself scratching behind Shadow’s ears. 

Benjen had his head in his hands before saying, “Dacey. I was leading into describing Eddard with that conversation. Were you listen__...”

“You said you’re not one to lie to me because I was so beautiful and you can’t take your eyes away from me,” said Dacey, fearing she may have said too much regarding Benjen, as her hand moved away from Shadow. Benjen’s mouth was agape and he was speechless, as he played the earlier conversation over in his head.  Shadow at this time chuffed towards Dacey leaning his head towards her indicating he wanted her to continue scratching. 

Lyanna stood up from her seat and put her hand on Benjen’s shoulder. She had then pulled Benjen away from the table towards the closest hearth in the kitchen for a moment, as Dacey continued to be the center of Shadow’s attention. Dacey couldn’t make out what they were saying as they were out of her and Barbrey’s earshot, but it seemed to be more of a friendly sibling debate with Benjen relenting finally and saying , “Okay you’ve made your point, Lya.”

Lyanna looked to Barbrey for a moment, as if giving her a signal. Barbrey nodded, chuckling slightly. Both women stood up motioning to the younger Dacey. Lyanna looked at Benjen, “I think it might be a good idea for Lady Dacey to accompany myself and Lady Barbrey on a tour of the rest of Winterfell. It is getting past the hour of the bat.” Part of Dacey wanted to stay with Benjen and the other part of her was curious about Lyanna Stark was up to. 

Dacey shrugged, “I’m curious. Are you sure you’re okay if I go with your sister, Benjen?”

Benjen nodded with a slight smile as Shadow hopped down off of Dacey with a slight whimper as if protesting for the cessation of scratches. Dacey followed Lyanna and Barbrey out of the kitchens as Benjen finished off the rest of his ale before giving Shadow a playful embrace before he and Shadow were walking off in the direction he came in turning towards the Glass Gardens. 

BENJEN I
Night, 17th day - Early Morning. 18th day, 10th Moon,  280 A.C.

Benjen felt Lyanna’s hand on his shoulder motioning for him to get up and walk towards the nearest Hearth in the kitchen. He was rather annoyed at Lyanna’s butting into things but usually she did so with good reason so he didn’t let his temper show. 

“What Lyanna?!”

“She likes you, Benjen,” said Lyanna

“I’m pretty sure she doesn’t hate me,” said Benjen. He didn’t need to be told the obvious when he found the Mormont girl very interesting and had some admiration for her choice of weaponry as well as her prowess with a bow and arrow. Shadow seemed comfortable around her, oddly behaving less like a direwolf and more like a faithful puppy. 

Lyanna gave Benjen a serious look, “I want to make sure she wants to be around you for you. Ever since the thing with Brandon and Barbrey. It seems like everyone’s wanting a piece of House Stark. Maybe I’m just being paranoid....I ... “

Benjen nodded, “You’re not paranoid but, Lya, I was the one who asked her up here after seeing her through Shadow’s eyes.”

Lyanna turned towards Benjen, “But she’s from....”

“House Mormont who is a Northern House,” said Benjen casually. “All the houses of the North are gathering for the Winter Gathering of the Lords.”

Lyanna asked, “Yes and House Umber, Glover, Mormont and, from I’ve heard, most of the Mountain Clans are either arriving early.”

Benjen stated, “Well Lord Rodrik Glover is meeting his nephews. Rickard Kastark I know is out here to meet with father and Brandon as House Karstark is pretty much our kin. The Greatjon came out here to report to father informally on progress on Achyldenloch and to swear his fealty to House Stark as he is now officially heir to House Umber and Last Hearth. And Maege Mormont came down with her daughters to see the Greatjon and Lord Rodrik Glover.”  Benjen paused, stating what they both were thinking, “They’re most likely not happy with what your foster sister’s father is trying to pull with Sunset Coast and would like to see where House Stark stands in regards to this”

Lyanna countered, “Well Brandon should have thought of that before....”

Benjen shook his head, “This goes beyond compensation, Lya.”

Lyanna opened up here mouth to object but Benjen held his hand up, “For what Brandon did, the betrothal to any eligible Stark son plus the 50,000 gold dragons each to House Ryswell and House Dustin should have been enough. House Dustin had agreed and moved on, but for some reason House Ryswell felt they weren’t given enough.”

Lyanna noted Benjen sounded as if he was quoting their father, Lord Rickard Stark, but she recognized that the gruff lecturing tone of Lord Rodrik Glover must have rubbed off on Benjen as well.  Benjen continued, ““Before I left Winterfell around sundown with Lord Rodrik Glover,  we were in father’s solar with Maester Walys.  He was reading the latest revisions to the vassal house contract and betrothal contract that your foster father had sent with the both of you. Have you seen them?”

“They were in a sealed box. Lord Ryswell just handed it to me and just said ‘Make sure you give this to your father,’” replied Lyanna.

“Rodrick Ryswell is looking to cut House Glover and House Mormont from Sea Dragon’s Point. Rickard Ryswell is to be Castellan to replace Rodrik Glover,” said Benjen. 

Lyanna replied, “He’s only eight namedays old. Perhaps they want Lord Rodrik Glover to foster him as Regent Castell_....”

Benjen shook his head. “Royce Bolton, Rogar Bolton’s youngest brother, was named the Regent.”

“He’s a butcher not a ....” said Lyanna, before saying in “By the Heart Tree, Bethany....”

“My guess is she may be an unwitting hostage and the Ryswells are most likely being used by the Boltons,” said Benjen. “Considering House Ryswell’s demands in the contracts seem to want to stack appointments for major positions with Boltons with Ryswells and their vassal houses as secondaries as the expense of every existing agreement with other houses in the North, it’s not surprising that they’re not the ”

Lyanna nodded, “I’m sensing some conflict in Barbrey with pride in her mother house but also wanting to be a great Lady married to a Stark.” Lyanna sighed, “I love her and she’s been a sister to me but sometimes I can’t tell whether she’s wanting the betrothal to Eddard Stark for the power or to get back at Brandon or she really does want to be part of our family.”

Benjen nods, “Once she’s betrothed, she’s pack.”

Lyanna nods, “Agreed.”

Benjen nodded, “Father says Rogar Bolton’s looking to make a move against House Stark.” Benjen looked off into the distance for a moment, as Lyanna seemed to have a concerned look on her face looking briefly back at Barbrey and Dacey. Benjen stated, “Eddard is blessed by the Old Gods as I have been.  He will need to call both Rodrick Ryswell and Rogar Bolton with Father present during the Winter Gathering.”

“Should we tell Brandon when he arrives tomorrow from White Harbor with House Manderly?” Lyanna asked.

“No,” said Benjen. “Let father address the issue. I’ve seen his temper and he doesn’t think things through. Last thing we need is Brandon pulling a sword on any of the Boltons while they’re in Winterfell under guest right. The solution I have a feeling will lie with our other brother.”

“Speaking of solutions, a betrothal between you and your new friend would be a step towards appeasing House Mormont and House Glover,” Lyanna noted. 

“We’ve only just met, Lya.”

“Remember our duty to our house,” said Lyanna. “I’ve only met Robert Baratheon briefly in Riverrun during Brandon and Catelyn’s betrothal feast. I found ouf I was betrothed to him after Father returned from Storm’s End after the funeral for Robert’s parents with a betrothal agreement. Eddard hasn’t even met Barbrey yet. Brandon’s betrothed to a woman who has no understanding of the North whatsoever and seems very set in her ways.”

Benjen nods, “I suppose....”

“I’ve seen the way she’s been looking at you tonight....there’s something there, Benjen,” said Lyanna. “I had an idea tonight about getting to know Dacey as a potential goodsister.  Perhaps maybe even that will help also put Barbrey at ease as well.  Also, you seem to have a different recall of a certain conversation with Dacey than she did....”

Benjen listened to Lyanna and replayed what he said in his head. Believe me when I say my brother Eddard ... it echoed in his head as he began to think. He stopped for a moment realizing the sentence which Dacey had focused on : I’m also one not to lie to the someone so beautiful that I can’t take my eyes away from them, whose company I’ve enjoyed this past hour or so.  Benjen felt he pretty much had walked into that. It was an honest statement which had a lot more impact than he thought initially. Spoiled and pampered Southron noblewomen were used to having such said to them that they’ve probably become jaded to such, he thought, not girls from the Far North like Dacey. 

“Okay you’ve made your point, Lya.” 

Lyanna walked back to the table followed by Benjen. She departed soon after with Barbrey and Dacey in tow. Shadow whimpered slightly at Dacey’s departure. Benjen gave Shadow a playful hug as he downed the rest of his ale and headed to the Glass Gardens. 

Walking through the Glass Gardens, he noticed the gardener had laid out several long-stemmed pale blue winter roses on one of the tables along with several already in vases, the latter being readied for the guest rooms in the Great Hall and one floor of the Great Keep for when all the Lords and Ladies of the North arrive in the next few days. Shadow and Benjen made their way through the floral area to where the vegetable garden was and made a beeline on the small stone walkway between rows of tomato and pepper plants to a small exit door at the end. 

It was a shock as they stepped out from the warm Glass Gardens into the chilly winter open air of the North Ward. Benjen headed towards the Godswood, with Shadow running ahead. They reached the gate just south of the south wall of the Guest House which overlooked the Godswood. 

Benjen began to walk in when he spotted a young man who looked about his age and was his height, maybe a bit shorter.  It was almost as if he was waiting just inside the gate for Benjen. Shadow immediately, sat down in front of the young man who spoke in a Crannogman accent, “Well hello Shadow. We’ve been expecting you.”  Benjen looked at the young man who was dressed in a water-resistant heavy cloak over his light leather armor and high leather boots. His armor and boots were constructed from the mottled dark-green almost black hide of the Lizard Lion.  Benjen could make out the sigil of House Reed on the young man’s clasp.  

“Hello,” said Benjen. “You must be Lord Howland of House Reed?”

“I am,” said Howland, smiling a wide grin, “And you must be the younger warg descended from the Kings of Winter, Lord Benjen of House Stark.” 

“I take it you’ve had a pleasant journey from Greywater watch?”

“It has been enlightening but I will say my journey has only just begun,” said Howland cryptically. Benjen thought for a moment and then it dawned on him. 

“You have the greensight?” said Benjen

Howland Reed nodded, “The Old Gods have blessed me with that gift as they have blessed you and your brother Eddard with yours. I will be departing for the Isle of Faces in the God's Eye after I return to Greywater Watch." Howland smiled, motioning forward through the trees towards the clearing. Shadow eagerly ran ahead reaching the destination well before Benjen and Howland.  Benjen emerged from the trees behind Howland into the central clearing of the Godswood around the Heart Tree.

There Benjen saw his brother Eddard standing by the Heart Tree. He was dressed in a simple grey woolen tunic with the sleeves pushed up to the elbow and  grey woolen britches with a leather sword-belt and boots. His sword and scabbard were absent however. Benjen noticed his older brother seemed somewhat lean but very muscular, judging by his forearms which were exposed. Very prominent on Eddard's face was a scar which ran from above his left eyebrow, across the orbit of his eyesocket,  to the underside of his lower left jaw, covered now by  stubble as he needed a shave.  Eddard's eyes were an ice cold grey and his dark hair was tied back with a leather band. 

Seated on his hind paws about a couple of yards away from Eddard was a massive grey and white furred direwolf with golden eyes. Benjen saw that this direwolf was larger than the old direwolf that had guided them through the Wolfswood. This direwolf also had a few scars around its muzzle and on its side as it had  Shadow had padded over to sit just beside this direwolf. The larger direwolf snorted briefly at Shadow who returned a similar sount. Benjen recognized the large direwolf as the alpha.  On either side of where Eddard and the alpha were standing were six other direwolves with coats of various shades of grey, from dark-grey almost black to the lightest of greys. All were about the same size as the alpha. Benjen noted they all appeared to be waiting attentively as if for the beginning of a ritual. 

Howland Reed pulled Benjen back towards a tree briefly as they saw the old direwolf who had guided them earlier slowly walking towards the heart tree. It's joints seemed to be stiffened and its right back leg seemed to be dragging as it slowly walked towards the Heart Tree in the middle of the Godswood. The old direwolf moved as if it were enduring pain on its final walk. Once the old direwolf had reached the Heart Tree it leaned against it briefly putting its right forepaw forward to touch the bark. Eddard and the alpha followed suit, with Eddard stretching out his right hand to touch the giant weirwood tree.

After what seemed like an hour, the old direwolf turned around and walked slowly two paces before lying down, his breathing becoming shallower and shallower. Eddard knelt next to the old direwolf with his hand on the old direwolf's left shoulder attempting to comfort the direwolf in its final moments of life. The old direwolf then closed its eyes and grew still. Benjen watches as his brother Eddard remained somewhat stoic in his expression, although he saw a couple of tears escape his elder brothers eyes.  Eddard in something in Old Tongue to the now deceased direwolf.  Your death is a great loss. The Old Gods will welcome you into their pack, Benjen translated in his head.

Eddard stood up slowly with the alpha looking towards him for a brief moment before the alpha and the other direwolves let out a long and low mournful howl which echoed throughout the Godswood and no doubt was heard throughout all of Winterfell. There was a distant fainter howling heard from the North emanating from the Wolfswood. The howl was almost deafening at its peak, but gradually subsided. 

Benjen began to take a few steps towards his brother Eddard before Howland had stopped him. "Not as yet," said Howland as Benjen saw the direwolves gather around. The alpha approached one of the direwolves. The other direwolf was similar in coloring to Shadow and was just as scarred as the alpha.  The alpha growled at the dark direwolf and there was a growl back. The alpha then turned from that direwolf and went back to the Heart Tree next to Shadow. The other wolves gathered around the direwolf the alpha had growled at. Benjen knew what this was almost instantly: the dark direwolf was now the new alpha of the pack residing in the Wolfswood.

Eddard went back to the deceased elderly direwolf's body and put his hand on it. He was still mourning the loss as the former-alpha lower his massive head as well.Benjen then noticed every direwolf turn their heads southwest as he heard a lot of human footsteps approaching. Benjen saw his father, Lord Rickard Stark, emerge from the Godswood,  followed by Ser Rodrik Cassel and around eight of the Winterfell guards along with Lord Rodrik Glover and another man he guessed was Rickard Karstark based on his garb, namely the black woolen surcoat with the Karstark star sigil emblazoned upon it in white.

Benjen and Howland Reed had moved towards where Shadow was, near the Heart Tree as Eddard motioned to the direwolves with his hand as if he were telling soldiers under his command to stand down. Lord Rickard Stark did the same only briefly as Ser Rodrik Cassel ordered the guards to sheath their weapons and stand down.

Lord Rickard Stark approached his son Eddard and embraced him by the shoulders, "Eddard...my son.... " Benjen watched his father and could tell he was speechless as he could not seem to form words.

Eddard was equally at a loss for words, "It is good to be home, father."

"Father, we will need to prepare a tomb in the crypts for ... one of our House who has passed on," said Eddard finally breaking the silence, looking towards the deceased elderly direwolf.

Lord Rickard Stark nodded, "I will have Edric Poole fetch the stoneworkers as well as the sculptors for the statue."  Lord Rickard Stark looked at Eddard for a moment, before pulling Eddard close to him, to hug the son he had not seen for almost eight years.

Chapter Text

Late Afternoon - Night, 17th day, 10th Moon,  280 A.C.

Lord Rickard Stark shook hands with the Greatjon finished speaking and stated back to him, “House Stark accepts the fealty of House Umber through Jon Umber also known as the Greatjon.  I vow that you shall always have a place by my hearth, and meat and mead at my table. And I pledge to ask no service of you that might bring you dishonor. Rise Lord Greatjon Umber of Last Hearth.”  

The Greatjon rose from his one knee to his full height as Lord Rickard Stark stated, “House Umber has always stood by House Stark. It is good that one of the constants of this vast land is the Direwolf can always depend on the Giant. I thank you Greatjon for continuing the tradition. Thank you again for the detailed report on Achyldenloch and my congratulations on your new fatherhood and give my best blessings to your wife and daughters.“

The Greatjon softly said in his powerful voice, “It is always an honor to serve the Stark in Winterfell and thank you Lord Stark. I will let Karsi know the Stark in Winterfell cares for my family.”  The Greatjon shared a mutual smile with Lord Rickard Stark before he departed Lord Stark’s solar. Maester Walys stood nearby with a few ravens in his hands.

“So what is next on the agenda for today, Walys?” said Lord Rickard Stark as went to stand by his desk. 

Walys gave his Lord the first raven as he said, “Just two ravens, the first one originated from Driftwood Hall in Skagos but this is not House Stane’s sigil.” The seal on the raven was a wreath of  roses surrounded by old North runes which read ‘MhS’. Lord Rickard Stark smiled. Mentyr hen Sīmontan. Company of the Rose. Rickard began to read, noting that it was in a dialect of Old Tongue used by hunters in the Wolfswood west of Long Lake. 

Lord Rickard Stark, 

Rumors have reached us regarding your second son, Eddard. Lord Arryn has purged his land of the Tyroshi Slavers but their Volantene client from behind the Black Walls of Volantis, Vidar Tarraenos felt he was robbed of his prize, a pit fighter with true First Men blood and gifts from the Old Gods. Apparently the Doom has not cured those with Valyrian blood of their arrogance. We have it also on reliable sources that there is a connection of some form between the Targaryen Crown and Vidar Tarraenos. I will be arriving with the sons of Karlon to Winterfell with ten by ten by two of mine and thine kin. MhS will be awaiting at the house of  the white star on a black field in a quarter gross by gross. 

Theon Snow, Eldest Son of the Wolfmother

 

Rickard put the raven into the inner pocket near his chest of his doublet, merely giving Walys a look which Walys knew immediately meant do not ask that of which need not be heard aloud. As he handed the raven to Rickard, Walys stated, “The next raven is from Lord Cerwyn.”

Rickard walked around his desk, reading the raven from Castle Cerwyn.

Lord Rickard Stark, 

The captain of my guards and his men have identified the bodies of the brigands found a quarter-league north of the crossroads of Cerwyn Road and the Kingsroad. It was a band of brigands headed by Zakaro the Dothraki. This is one of the men wanted also for heinous crimes in the Vale of Arryn as well from your last raven requesting his whereabouts if encountered. We found all their valuable by the side of the road and are working to identify the owners. We will be holding the coinage we found in trust for the smallfolk of  Cerwyn lands. Maester Vorian has also identified the cause of death one of  being partially from paralysis by a poisoned blade and then stabbed in the throat with it to bleed out like a slaughtered hog. The others seemed to have been outfought by someone very experienced in close combat.  A farmer on the border of my lands and yours had received the wagon and horses being used by the brigands for hauling their loot. From the description given to the captain of my guards by the farmer, it appears as though Lord Alaric Reed’s son and a young man of Stark descent based on the ‘wolf eyes and long face’ were the ones, most likely your son Eddard, who sent Zakaro the Dothraki and his men to meet the Old Gods for judgment, or they have had contact with those who did.

Your Vassal,
Lord Medger Cerwyn
Lord of Cerwyn, Honed and Ready.

 

Lord Rickard took a deep breath and smiled slightly as he looked to Maester Walys. “I’m hearing from Lord Cerwyn that it sounds like most likely young Howland and Eddard have disposed of the last of the lot that were behind Eddard’s ordeal and had been a thorn in Lord Jon Arryn’s side. We’ll need to send a raven to Lord Arryn informing him,” said Lord Rickard Stark. 

Maester Walys nodded, “I would advise asking Lord Cerwyn an exact amount of the coinage he is holding in trust for his smallfolk. We do know that Zakaro the Dothraki fled with potentially a few thousand gold dragons from the gambling operations being run by the rogue Houses and the Tyroshi slavers. Would they come after the __ ...?”

Lord Rickard Stark shook his head interrupting, “After what my son did in escaping and Lord Arryn did in clamping down and ending the entire operation afterwards, Zakaro the Dothraki and any other surviving sellswords who were part of that operation laid low. It’s not the money so much as they survived where the Tyroshi didn’t and they don’t forgive such easily. We’ll need to send a raven to Lord Wyman Manderly as well to be on the alert given he covers our ports.”  And be on the lookout for any ship flagged out of Volantis.  

Maester Walys shifted his chain slightly, “Agreed My Lord. Speaking of Manderly, there was a brief raven from your son Brandon who will be arriving with both Lord Wyman’s sons, Wylis and Wendel, along with the necessary documentation for the agreements for House Manderly regarding naval development for the North. I think it’s an excellent idea for you to consider Wendel for Steward of Rillstone Harbor.”

“Well, Justan Flint has been worried about spending more time in getting Flint’s Finger built up as well,” said Lord Rickard. “Ol’ Justan told me in his last raven he’s looking to move his timeline forward on Flint’s Finger development.”  Lord Rickard Stark knew what was holding everything up. It was Rodrick Ryswell taking his time on his proposed changes to the Vassal House contracts. Lord Rickard Stark had invested over 700,000 gold dragons so far since he had returned from his trip to Braavos with the funds withdrawn from the confidential Stark account at the Iron Bank. Arya “the Wolfmother” Snow, thought Lord Rickard Stark. You were such a sight for sore eyes after I lost Lyarra. What my father found below our crypts didn’t belong there, but when sold by the descendants of Brandon Snow to buyers in Essos beyond the Bone Mountains in Ass’hai and Yi-Ti and beyond, they sent you and the other commanders in the company bring us the gold from the sale so House Stark could make the North what it could be and should be. Your eldest son will be coming here and I have not seen him since he was seven namedays old.  Rickard’s mind drifted,  “So let’s go over...where are we so far on the developments within the North.”

Walys began, “Well you’ve already been over the progress in Achyldenloch and the development of the surrounding farmland from the Greatjon before his oath of fealty. Come spring we’ll have a better time at it.”  He took a deep breath, “Moat Caillin as you know by now from Lord Alaric Reed’s last communicae is ready for construction. However, this will depend upon Grey Harbor being finished so House Slate can concentrate on readying the quarries for the granite for Moat Caillin and House Ryswell to sign their part of their Vassal House contract to allow House Slate and House Reed full travel through part of the Rills to transport the granite from the quarries.  There only alternative would be the smaller quarries just east of Long Lake which ... “

“...are in the older Mountains between Long Lake and the Dreadfort.” Lord Rickard Stark finished. “We’ve already used for Achyldenloch, until the Wull is able to get the quarry on the plateau between due west of Achyldenloch functioning, and that’s already cost us almost twice what it should.”

Maester Walys said, “Well they aren’t very well developed quarries and Lord Rogar Bolton....”

“I know doesn’t invest in developing his own resources if he doesn’t need to,” finished Lord Rickard Stark. “His father, Harlon was just like him in that aspect.” Lord Rickard paced to his desk looking at a carved wooden box used for transport of documents with the sigil of House Ryswell on it. “Well I guess onto the next agenda item, shall we see what House Ryswell wanted changed to their vassal contract and the betrothal contract?”

Maester Walys and Lord Rickard Stark poured over the document for a good two hours. Both men had expressions on their faces that they were less than happy. Lord Rickard stark wore the face of a man who looked like he wished to pick up a sword and decapitatie someone. Walys looked weary from reading the documents and trying to figure out the logic behind such.  Rickard’s expression softened somewhat as his son Benjen arrived with Lord Rodrik Glover and a young Turin Cassel.  Benjen peered in first, “Da’, did we come at a bad time?” as the two older men followed in behind him. Shadow wandered in behind taking his place as usual in front of the hearth in Lord Rickard Stark’s solar and falling asleep. 

Lord Rickard Stark said, laughing darkly, “No. Right on time. Just about to read over how a document telling me how to run my realm sent to us by the glorified horse trader.” Before anyone could respond to his jape, Rickard turned to the nephew of Winterfell’s Master-at-Arms, “Ah, Turin Cassel. News from the investigation in the Wolfswood to Lord Terrick and his squire’s fates?”

Turin Cassel nodded, “My uncle is bringing the bodies back. It’s odd where we found them and it’s odd the state we found them in.”

Lord Rickard Stark leaned forward, folding his hands in front of him as he listened, “Oh?”

“It’s almost as if they were executed .... by the Direwolves,” started Turin Cassel, “There was some broken ribs and bruising as if they were knocked over by an animal the size of such, but according to two of the experienced rangers I had with me, they died of having their necks snapped by the Direwolves jaws. They bled alot from the throat wounds but those were most likely incidental wounds from sheering action during the bite sheering chunks of flesh near the forward molars.”

Lord Rodrik Glover was curious, “Where’d you find ‘em? “  He paused before saying, “Just curious how far they were dragged.”

 “Half a league, Lord Rodrik,” replied Turin, “Into the middle of a ring of weirwoods.” Turin seemed slightly nervous.  “The two rangers, as well as my uncle’s men and my uncle felt like we were being watched the whole time. We saw a few of them some distance away as we began to move the bodies. They knew we saw them.” 

Turin Cassel, normally not an excited young man, said “I’d never seen a direwolf up close but they are big. I thought we were being watched by bears but bears don’t move that fast.”  Turin looked at Benjen, “One was bold enough to step out and come right up to me as we finished putting the bodies on the wagon. It was looking down at me as it sat on hits haunches. Big grey and white one. Looked like it had seen a few skirmishes due to the scars. Eyes were a bright golden color. Well they were at first before they suddenly turned an icy grey then turned back.”

Benjen said softly, “My brother Eddard...”

Turin Cassel stated, “Eddard executed Lord Terrick for hunting off license?” Lord Rickard Stark shifted in his seat slightly uneasily. 

Benjen countered, “No, Eddard may have been warged into the alpha when he encountered you. The alpha of the pack executed three who he viewed as committing the crime of murder against members of his pack. What would any lord do to someone who entered their castle and killed the women and children, his family and smallfolk alike?”

Turin merely nodded as Rickard looked at his youngest son with some curiousity before looking briefly at Lord Rodrik Glover. That is the line of thought of a lord and has been educated well in his fostering. Lord Rodrik Glover is an asset House Stark needs to keep for the sake of the North.

Rodrik Glover cackled, “The Old Gods were on your side, young Turin. Believe me, if there was no connection between the Stark’s sons and this direwolf pack, we wouldn’t be speaking with each other.” Glover became calm and serious in his tone immediately, “This pack is different from the ones beyond the Wall. Toregg told me he once saw a group of twelve Thenns he was following become a pile of mangled limbs and bloodstains on the snow after mere loitering too long inside a small direwolf pack’s territory, observing such from the hill just beyond where their territory was marked.  Larger packs it’s best to just map out where you think their territory is and avoid such, as only the Others would dare wander through.”

Rickard Stark asked, “So why is this pack different?”

Rodrik Glover said softly but firmly, “To be blunt, my Lord Stark, their alpha is bonded with your son Eddard I think.”

Benjen interjected, “Shadow is the nephew of the one who young Turin  met, the alpha.”

Rickard  leaned back putting his hands briefly in the air before , “Confirms my suspicions then. How big is the pack?”

Turin stated, “We spotted about a dozen or so, could be more. Barthogan, one of the rangers, stated that the Northern Grey Wolf packs have moved south and west towards House Whitehill’s and House Tallhart’s territory, so this direwolf pack has pretty much displaced most of the other wolf packs between Sea Dragon’s Point and Winterfell.”

Lord Rodrik Glover commented, “Dozen males at least then I’m guessing with that much area covered.”

Rickard whistled, “Okay if there’s a pack that big, we’re going to have to have folks avoid the Wolfswood for now from Winterfell and Wintertown until we’re sure about the temperament of this pack.”  Benjen opened his mouth to protest, but thought better of it, looking over at Shadow.  “Turin,tell your uncle, Ser Rodrik, I want to put some extra guards at the Hunter’s Gate with hunting spears and anti-cavalry pikes as additional weapons, just in case.” Rickard continued, “Direwolves are the sigil of my house and I am glad to hear justice was served for a fellow pack. However, I do have concerns about the safety of the people of Winterfell and Wintertown.”

Turin  nodded as he moved towards the door, “By your leave, my Lord Stark.”  Lord Rickard Stark nodded as Turin Cassel left about his task. “Now back to the biggest ongoing issue.” He looked to Maester Walys, “Walys?”

Maester Walys began, “It appears as though House Ryswell seems to want to dictate key positions for Rillstone Harbor, Grey Harbor, and Rillstone Harbor. Apparently he thinks a second daughter is worth the entirety of Rillstone Harbor and wants to replace my initial suggestion with Ser Wendel Manderly out as Steward suggesting instead Ser Edmund Whitehill.”

Maester Walys nods, “Well if one were going on the unwritten but implied stipulations that the Lord Paramounts of the Riverlands and the Vale levied on the North that there must be a Sept in the new Harbor to accomodate the needs of traders who follow the Faith of the Seven, Ser Edmund Whitehill does meet the qualifications. However....”

Lord Rickard Stark finished Walys’ thought, “He knows about as much managing a harbor, shipyards, or anything nautical, let alone having any experience with merchants. House Whitehill just switched who they were a vassal house to from House Glover to House Ryswell a couple of years past.”

Lord Rodrik Glover adds, “It was a welcome change actually. My brother Lord Torrhen Glover had a problem with their ongoing bickering with House Forrester and quite frankly they were only connected to House Glover geographically by a small strip of land between the old House Fisher lands now owned by House Stark and House Tallhart. I won’t lie and say the fact they did follow the Seven made the other houses superficially nervous regarding the care around weirwood trees by their woodsmen but most of their woodsmen were smallfolk and followers of the Old Gods, save for a few from directly around Highpoint.”  Glover leaned forward, “Still it is concerning. I’m guessing there’s more to this?”

Walys nods, “Looks like he’s looking to take over the Sunset Coast. Ser Edmund Whitehill seems to be Steward but he’s wanting to make his youngest Lord of Rillstone Harbor. Roose Ryswell is only four namedays old. He’s done the same with Sea Dragon’s point naming Rickard Ryswell as Castellan being only eight namedays.”

Lord Rickard Stark’s eyes narrowed, “Who has he proposed as regents to both positions?”

Maester Walys looks, “Doesn’t say in the initlal pages, but he references the footnotes on a regency contract for his sons with House Bolton, which oddly seemed to be tied to the rather rushed betrothal contract, as Maester Uthor described it. This was referenced in the last draft of the contracts with House Ryswell we reviewed a fortnight ago for some odd reason. I didn’t think it relevant at first, but I believed in being thorough. I was able to request a copy of that document from Maester Uthor.”  Walys handed a rolled piece of parchment to Rickard who unrolled it and reviewed it

Lord Rickard Stark upon reviewing such, resisted the urge to take his anger out on the document he read, grumbling, “Both regents are Bolton men. Rogar’s younger brother Royce Bolton is named as Castellan Regent for Sea Dragon’s Point. His youngest brother Elmar Bolton is named the regent for Roose Ryswell.” Rickard handed the document back to Walys and took a deep breath.

Benjen suggested trying to find a compromise , “Perhaps Lord Rodrik Glover can be named Regent instead. Rickard Ryswell could learn a lot from him as I did.”  Rickard looked to Benjen with a slight smile. 

“Ah, my son, ever the diplomat,” said Lord Rickard.  “They’re locked into a contract on this. Rogar’s just made his first move against House Stark. Most likely Rogar is pressing Ryswell on this like he did to Cley Condon with Elspeth before he usurped the man’s lands.” Rickard kicked himself for letting that happen as well, the whole incident happening when he was at Riverrun. The story from the Boltons was a wildling raid which the Boltons came to the rescue, albeit a bit late with all of House Condon dead save for Roose Bolton’s new wife and a couple of aged second cousins once removed who lived on a farming village near Ramsgate. “But I can’t honor the Rillstone appointments as it would make me break several contracts with House Flint, House Slate, House Manderly, House Dustin, as well as every Crannogman House as that harbor will be the primary harbor near the mouth of the Saltspear.”

Maester Walys added, “House Slate also has a vassal contract existing to House Stark of Winterfell. They did not agree to switch their vassalship so I assume we’ll deny that particular item  of Lord Ryswell’s changes.”

Rickard nodded to the affirmative, “Yes. And as far as Sea Dragon’s Point is concerned, I will say I do not approve of Lord Rodrik Ryswell’s suggestions, but my son Eddard is a Lord already, since he is of age at seven and ten and will not require a Regent.”  Lord Rodrik Glover remained somewhat silent during the whole time, as Rickard looked towards him, “I’m sorry Lord Rodrik, but this will be up to Lord Eddard Stark of Sea Dragon’s Point, not myself. However, neither House Ryswell nor House Bolton will be able to overrule Lord Eddard Stark of Sea Dragon’s Point.”

Lord Rodrik Glover began to laugh darkly, “My lord I have no issues with awaiting Lord Eddard Stark’s arrival for his decisions on Sea Dragon Point. In fact I’m looking forward to it.”

Lord Rickard Stark was surprised, as was Benjen, from what his father could see regarding the expression on his face. Curious Rickard asked, “How so, Lord Rodrik?”

“If I’m correct my hunch that Eddard is bonded now with the alpha of the direwolf pack in the Wolfswood and, from the rumors which keep coming in, Eddard’s combat prowess in near unmatched .  I overheard from some of your soldiers who just returned from Castle Cerwyn, Lord Rickard. Eddard just dispatched a gang of  six or seven armed brigands, killing them with their own weapons. Who better to put the fear and respect of the Old Gods back into that Red King pretender and his glorified horse-trader of a lackey than your son Lord Eddard Stark of Sea Dragon’s Point?”

Rickard exhaled, “Eddard will have to call his future goodfather out as well Rogar Bolton during the Winter Gathering of the Lords.”  Lord Rickard Stark knew that such would not end well since the situation escalating within the Great Hall either dividing and fragmenting the North is more likely than a uniting of the North behind House Stark with his three sons as Lords of the North and Heirs to the Kings of Winter. Lord Rodrik Glover was obviously in Eddard’s corner as House Stark would more than gladly have Lord Rodrik Glover continue what has been his life’s work since Rickard had returned from King’s Landing in 264AC.

Maester Walys interjected, “Perhaps that tabled discussion we had yesterday should be brought forth, Lord Stark?”

Rickard nodded, “Agreed. Roose Bolton is the unknown here. Given the rumors you stated about Roose’s first wife’s cause of death, he may not be totally in lockstep with his father. We may be able to use this to our advantage to keep things from getting ugly if Roose has different ideas about the future of House Bolton than his father.”

Walys looked thoughtful, “It’s not unheard of where there’s been vast differences of opinion between a current Lord and his son or successor. We’ve even seen that happen with the Crown.”  Rickard looked at Walys, noting the reference to the Crown. Walys can be the master of understatement sometimes, thought Rickard. Walys paused for a moment, “However, there are many unknowns and this is the North. South of the Neck Houses have been known to use subtle means such as the association of wives to ensure Lords get along with one another. However in this case we may not have the advantage of the sisters Barbrey and Bethany be able to influence their husbands in order to quench the inevitable conflict. Remember that it was agreed that Eddard and Barbrey’s wedding would be after the wedding of Brandon and Catelyn in the Riverlands and when Eddard had returned after receiving his knighthood in the Vale. That is at least a year from this day.”

Rickard nodded, “Do you have a solution perhaps? One that will not have Eddard or myself have to resort to a solution which will give the bards inspiration for a tedious dirge which we will have to listen to everytime we enter a room?”

“I’ll have to look in the library regarding legal precedents for the Seven Kingdoms as well as some of the treatises on pre-Conquest Northern Law,” replied Maester Walys. “

Lord Rickard Stark replied, “If you could , that would be most helpful.“ 

Rickard looked at Lord Rodrik Glover for a moment, “You’re a good man and you’ve served both House Glover and House Stark well this past sixteen years. The North needs more good men like you.”

Lord Rodrik Glover began “I will shield your....”

Rickard put his hand up as if to stop him reciting the oath, “Rodrik, save the oath for my son Eddard. I already know Rogar’s going to attempt a move against myself and my House soon, or he will once he gets the cyvasse board of the North set up the way he wants it.”  Rickard smiled, “But for now, old friend, head down to the Smoking Log Inn, have a few ales, enjoy yourself with the others who’ve arrived. I know Umber’s son and Jeor’s sister are there already.”

Rodrik Glover nodded, “You’re a good Lord, Lord Stark. And I thank you for giving me the opportunity to serve you and yours as well as be able to help guide young Benjen here.” Rodrik Glover looked over at Benjen, “Care to join me for some dinner at the Smoking Log Inn, young Lord Benjen, maybe meet some Umbers and Glovers and Mormonts?”

Benjen seemed to be slightly concerned from what Rickard could see as he rose from his chair but the prospect of a good time in Wintertown at the inn seemed to lighten his mood. Shadow rose from in front of the his nap in front of the hearth to follow Benjen and Rodrik Glover as they left the room. Eldric Poole arrived a few minutes later with his ledger. 

Eddard should be arriving tonight or very early in the morning on the morrow,” said Rickard. “We’ll finalized the House Ryswell contracts with him. How many days until all the Lords have arrived and we have the opening feast for the Winter Gathering of the Lords?”

Walys stated, “They should be arriving throughout the next three days after tomorrow. House Mormont, House Glover and their vassal houses, House Umber, and the Mountain Clans should be fully arriving the day after tomorrow late morning. Your son Brandon will be arriving with House Manderly, House Hornwood, House Locke,  and the various vassal houses of those houses will be arriving laterthat  afternoon towards sunset.” said Walys as he read off some notes of his.  “House Dustin, House Tallhart, House Slate, House Flint and the minor houses of that region will be arriving the following day in the morning, and House Bolton and House Ryswell will be arriving later that day I think towards sunset.”

Eldric Poole as if on cue, “I have the first group in the Guest House along the second floor, given they are the most faithful to the Old Gods and they’ll want to be closer to the Godswood. The second group arriving with Lord Brandon I have placed in the southern wing of the Great Hall, except for House Manderly which will be staying in the Eastern Guest Wing of the Great Keep on the second level.” Poole paused, “I do believe you had specified that there would be a need for them to be close by for the additional work you will be doing with the members of House Manderly. I have also made accommodations for the Silent Sisters and the Septon arriving from White Harbor.”

“I’ll have Brandon welcome the guests in the morning whilst we go over the contracts with Eddard before House Ryswell and House Bolton arrive.  What about House Karstark?” queried Rickard.

“House Karstark will be the last to arrive in two days along with House Stane, House Crowl and House Magnar from Skagos,” stated Walys.  “I received a raven from Maester Jon from Karhold that Lord Beron Karstark is arriving with a rather larger contingent, not including the Skagosi.” Theon Snow and two hundred of his men will be arriving with the Karstarks.

Rickard nodded, “I’ll have to speak with Ser Rodrik Cassel and have him organize a group of men to escort the Silent Sisters and the Septon down to the lands of House Terrick with the bodies of  Lord Addam Terrick and his two squires.” Rickard thought for a second, Maybe have Theon Snow send a couple of his men along to find out why they were specifically hunting wolves and direwolves in the Wolfswood, thought Rickard.  “I’d like to wait until after the Karstarks arrive before we have any significant departures from Winterfell. Back to your arrangements, Poole?”

Eldric nodded, “Ah, yes....the third group I have placed in the third floor of the Guest House except for House Whitehill whcih will be in the Great Hall in three suites in the northern wing on the second floor. House Bolton I placed in the rest of the rooms in that wing. House Ryswell insists on being in the Great Keep....”

“Naturally,” scoffed Rickard before a heavy sigh,  “Barbrey’s already settled in with Lyanna. We’ll have the Ryswell family proper in the Great Keep. I’ll have Ser Rodrik Cassel and his guards vet their entourage coming into the Great Keep, to ensure they’re all literally part of the Ryswell household.  We’ll go through the motions the same for the Manderly party to alleviate any complaints.Wyman will understand on that one. We still have the two men who escorted Barbrey and Lyanna here?”

Poole  nodded, “As far as I know.”

“We’ll have Cassel have them assist in identifying initially who is and isn’t part of the household,” said Lord Rickard Stark

Poole stated, “House Bolton I placed on the floor northern wing third floor of the Great Hall.”

“Can you place House Karstark and the Skagosi Houses on the northern wing second floor and top floor, Poole?”

Poole nodded, “I can. Anything else my lord?”

“I suppose that’s it other than...” said Lord Rickard sniffing the air. “I’m assuming we’ve already began butchering the aurochs for the welcoming feast?”

Poole responded, “Yes? Why do you ask?” Poole also sniffed the air as did Shadow who woke up at the smell. 

“Old Nan’s kidney pies,” smiled Benjen. 

Rickard chuckled. It was rather obvious with that many aurochs being slaughtered for a feast which would be feeding a few hundred people there would be a rather large amount of auroch kidneys available as well as other organ meat. Rickard was sure there would be a plethora of dishes of the meat not being used which would be feeding both the Starks and their household in the Inner Castle until the Winter Gathering of the Lords. Old Nan and the kitchen staff decided to make a good many kidney pies with her recipe

“Looks like we’ll have a busy few days starting in the morning with the arrivals,” noted Rickard. 

Walys paused for a bit having some concern, “ I have not heard from House Reed nor any of the Houses of the Neck.”

“The Crannogmen show up when they show up, no need for any formal welcome with them and they don’t usually announce,” stated Rickard rather flatly as it was just a fact that Crannogmen were the last to require the spectacle of  a welcome befitting a Lord, “ Lord Alaric’s son is already en route with Eddard. Rickard thought for a moment, “If there are rooms available in the Guest House put them there as it is near the Godswood. The Crannogmen don’t usually bring a large entourage and they would appreciate the proximity to the Godswood.”

Poole nodded as Rickard added,  “I know you will be heading to the kitchens, Poole. Have one of the kitchen staff deliver two up to my solar if you can along with a flagon of ale. Maester Walys and I will be finishing up our work here and will most likely be famished.”

Eldric Poole left for his duties as Maester Walys and Lord Rickard Stark spent the rest of the night working on their final draft for the agreements with House Ryswell. Rickard heard a knock on the door just before the hour of the bat and it was Marlyna, one of the kitchen staff, and her daughter, delivering two kidney pies, three flagons of ale and a couple loaves of black bread. Rickard thanked them with a smile as they left, before he and Maester Walys continued to work whilst eating their hearty meal until around the hour of ghosts.  At that time Walys organized his papers and took the stack with him back to the Maester’s Turret. 

Rickard walked out of his Solar into the hallway adjoining the Lord’s Suites and the Family Chambers. He heard some odd rustling and knocking around in Lyanna’s room as he was walking by. There seemed to be double the normal guard with Brenyk and Tobyn on shift again as well as the two Ryswell men, Harlen and Chev.  Barbrey had been staying in Lyanna’s room since she’d arrived. Rickard did find that a bit peculiar even though they had been very close, albeit foster, sisters for almost a decade. 

“Evening Lord Stark,” said Brenyk, as the other guards followed suit in the greeting. Lord Rickard nodded as he leaned towards the door, The guards parted to give him some room as he went to knock on the door. “It’s your father, Lyanna. Heard a bit of noise from your chambers, just wondering if everything’s all right. May I come in?”

“Lord Stark,” came a voice which sounded like Barbrey’s.  “We’re getting our young lady guest presentable if you’ll give us a few moments.” Young guest? Rickard was at a loss at guessing who it might be. 

“It’s a little late isn’t it for ... “ Rickard said after a moment of thinking before the door burst open.  Lyanna opened the door wide and headed back in to grab her winter cloak, as Barbrey handed it to her, clad in her own cloak. . A slightly smaller girl appeared behind Barbrey and seemed to be looking at Lord Rickard and the guards in the hall rather shyly. 

From what Rickard had guessed, his daughter and her foster sister had been spending time with their young guest, most likely a highborn, getting dressed and ready for some special occasion. Or quite possibly this was a ‘dress rehearsal’ for the coming events over the next almost sennights in Winterfell.  Their guest was a girl Rickard estimated a few years younger than Lyanna, most likely around Benjen’s age,  who seemed to have her chestnut brown hair arranged in a rather elaborate (yet still very much Northern) hairstyle with set of two tight braids on either side of her head which merged with a larger braid in the back. Above the point of the merge was a crown of sorts which was made from winter roses from the glass gardens and woven down the larger braid in the back. Rickard recognized the gown the girl was wearing as the same gown worn three years ago by Lyanna for Brandon and Catelyn’s Betrothal Feast in Riverrun - a relatively conservative high-necked white linen gown with a grey bodice and trim.  

Rickard studied the face of the girl as Lyanna grabbed the young girl’s cloak and put it on her as Barbrey gently lifted her long elaborate braid to rest over the cloak. It was recognizable as one of Lyanna’s older winter cloaks made from the furs of two black and grey Stoutwolves from the Northeast from a sanctioned furrier in House Karstark’s territory.  That nose and those eyes I have seen before,  thought Rickard. 

Lyanna stepped to the side as here and Barbrey gently pushed their young guest forward, “Father, this is Lady Dacey Mormont.”   Maege. That’s where I’ve seen those eyes and particular nose before, Spitting image of  her mother but she looks like she’ll be rather tall however. 

“Pleased to meet you, Lady Dacey,” stated Lord Rickard Stark as he looked for Lyanna for the inevitable explanation of why she and Lady Barbrey Ryswell had 

“She arrived earlier with Benjen and his Direwolf, Shadow. We all had dinner together....” 

“I had some kidney pie with Benjen and Lyanna and Barbrey,” said Dacey. “Well, two actually as Benjen said he wasn’t really hungry so he gave me the rest of his.”  

Lord Rickard Stark looked concerned for a moment, “I assume you three are going to meet Benjen right now.”

Lyanna nodded, “I had an idea of going back to the Smoking Log Inn with Benjen and Dacey and Barbrey to catch up with Lord Rodrik Glover and whomever was there as well. Dacey had told us her mother was there as well as the Greatjon as well as a few of the Glover family.”

“I think mum said Rickard Karstark was going to be there as well,” said Dacey. Lyanna and Barbrey looked at Dacey oddly as she stated that. Lord Rickard Stark thought to himself it might be a good idea to head over with them to chaperone as well as speak with   Beron’s heir regarding plans for the following sennight.  “I think she just likes talking his ear off so he’ll just make that scowling face of his,” continued Dacey in a rather unfiltered manner. That’s Maege alright and it appears as though the apple did not fall far from the tree with Beron’s son as far as facial expressions, thought Lord Rickard Stark as he chuckled.

Lord Rickard Stark offered, “Perhaps you ladies would be so kind as to allow me to join you then?”  Rickard admitted it was quite late and they had a busy day the next day, but it seemed an opportune time to get to know the most likely candidate for a gooddaughter for his youngest.  As the three Northern ladies and the Lord of Winterfell entered the stairs in the southwest tower, the joy of a night out was quickly ended by Ser Rodrik Cassel meeting them at the bottom of the stairs along with Lord Rodrik Glover, Lord Rickard Karstark and Lady Maege Mormont with her youngest Alysanne asleep on her shoulder. 

Lord Rickard Stark spoke, “Ser Rodrik Cassel, what seems to be going on?”

“Well I was able to get an hour’s rest from the excitement, before someone thought it would be funny to trip a small Crannogman carrying two pitchers of ale which of course spilled onto a rather drunk and rowdy Lord Jon Umber,” said Ser Rodrik Cassel. 

Rickard Stark began to scowl as he put his hand on his forehead briefly, feeling a headache oncoming. “Assuming I need to get Maester Walys to help heal the Crannogman?”

“No, my Lord Stark,” said Cassel. “The Crannogman’s friend leaped across two tables landing on the Greatjon with his knees in the man’s shoulderblades and held essentially held the Greatjon in a submission hold. The Greatjon couldn’t breath and passed out. They both fled towards the Wolfswood shortly after. I think the Crannogman’s friend might be your son Eddard.”

Lord Rickard Stark asked , “Assuming Lord Rodrik Glover, Lady Maege Mormont, and Lord Rickard Karstark are here as witnesses?”

Karstark responded, “Lord Stark, Lord Rodrik Glover and I helped carry the unconscious Greatjon back from the Smoking Log Inn. I think he’s less injured and more passed out drunk. We were going to take him to Maester Walys initially but he stirred a bit and started snoring,” the long-and-narrow-faced Karstark said with a what could be construed as a slight bit of mirth.

Cassel finished, “We ran into Eldric Poole and he suggested putting him in the Guest House in one of the rooms already set aside for House Umber. Eldric Poole sent a note to notify Maester Walys to give the Greatjon a lookover in the morning.”

Lord Rickard Stark exhaled, looking to Lord Rodrik Glover, “Well it wouldn’t be the first time I’ve had one of my Lords’ heirs pass out drunk after a long night of drinking at that Inn.  I think both Halys Hornwood did so in ‘72 and Wyman Manderly and ‘68 are the two that stick in my mind from recent memory.”

Lord Rodrik Glover noted humourously, “I think I’m either getting old or the Greatjon weighs more than Wyman ever did.” 

“Most likely both,” japed Karstark. 

Lord Stark chuckled a bit as did Cassel slightly and Maege. Maege Mormont stepped forward, “I’m actually here as I was told my daughter Dacey went missing. One of the staff at the Inn said she’d last been seen enterring Winterfell through the South Gate with a boy and his rather large dog.” She looked slightly angry as Lyanna herself opened her mouth as if to say something. Dacey had a worried look on her face regarding. Maege instead had an angry but somehow relieved and somewhat hopeful look on her face, as she shifted her weight to better support her carrying young Aly.

Lyanna offered, “Dacey came in with Benjen and his direwolf, Shadow.”

Lord Rickard Stark looked at Lady Maege Mormont, “From what I’m guessing Lady Maege Mormont, Lady Dacey had  met up with my son Benjen at some point tonight and somehow ended up with my daughter Lyanna and Lady Barbry Ryswell getting ready to head back to the Smoking Log Inn with myself and Benjen to join the fun. From my observations, nothing untoward has happened to your daughter unless you count eating almost two of Old Nan’s kidney pies with my son Benjen, my daughter Lyanna, and my future good-daughter Barbrey. From my very brief observations, she’s been very well behaved.”

Maege seemed disarmed at the moment not knowing what to do, “My apologies Lord Stark for being so...”

Lord Rickard Stark held his hand up in a calming gesture , “No need for any apologies, Lady Maege. You’re her mother and were worried.”   It seemed evident that Dacey had slipped out of the Inn without permission.  “What say we all head to my Solar to finish this night out with perhaps we can all have a relaxing time over a glass of a Norvosi spiced strongwine I picked up in Braavos back in ‘68?  I didn’t see Benjen however in his room however. ”

Lord Rodrik Glover noted,  “If Benjen’s not in his room sleeping, I’d be a betting man he’s in the Godswood. I’ll head and fetch him if you’d like...”  Glover caught what Lord Stark was intending, even if the younger ones in stairwell foyer did not and took this as Lord Stark being very hospitable. 

“Thank you, Lord Rodrik,” stated Lord Stark. 

Lord Rodrik Glover made his way to the door as the rest headed up the stairwell. Around that time, Turin Cassel and two guards entered rather frazzled and out of breath. “Uncle, we’ve had a ... There are....”  Lord Rodrik Glover stopped in his tracks.

Ser Rodrik Cassel immediately approached  his nephew and said, “Calm down Turin. Take a breath.” Ser Rodrik waited a moment as Turin nodded, “Now what happened?”

“The young man matching the description of the one who had knocked Lord Jon Umber out in the Smoking Log Inn just entered the Hunter’s Gate along with the Crannogman,” said Turin. 

Ser Rodrik Cassel sighed, “Looks like possibly Eddard Stark’s returned home. What’s the big ruckus ab__ ...”

Turin interrupted, “Both men entered through the Hunter’s Gate accompanied by eight fully grown direwolves bigger than even Lord Jon Umber's destrier. I think that the pack leader who you saved me from was amongst them...I....”

Lord Rickard Stark looked to Lyanna, “Take the ladies Mormont and Lady Barbrey to my Solar. We'll get Maege and her children settled in their room at the Guest House later.”  Lyanna nodded and headed back up the stairs with the ladies as the two Lords and Lord Rickard Stark left the stairwell with his Master-at-Arms. Lyanna offered to carry Alysanne given Maege appeared weary from the night, There was some hesitation, but Maege relented handing Lyanna the still sleeping Alysanne, as they started up the long stairs.

Ser Rodrik Cassel sent his nephew to the Guard House to get reinforcements as they headed towards the Godswood. They stopped at the gate as they began to hear a howling sound from the Godswood. Lord Rodrik noted that it was most likely direwolves due ot the lower pitch and greater volume. Lord Rickard Stark noted that it seemed less like the equivalent of a warcry and more like a mournful dirge.  The dirge was joined by wolves and direwolves alike from the Wolfswood. 

Lord Rodrik Glover shouted to Lord Rickard Stark, "I think the Old Gods have spoken, Lord Stark."

"Aye," nodded the Lord of Winterfell. The howling dirge seemed to die down in volume as Lord Rickard nodded to Ser Rodrik Cassel and they moved forward into the Godswood.

As they arrived near the clearing for the Heart Tree, Rickard Stark could see his son, Eddard kneeling next to a massive direwolf which was lying prone and very still. Seven other direwolves were staring towards them.  Ser Rodrik Cassel and the guards began to unsheath their weapons.

"Stand down, Ser Rodrik. Tell your men the same," said Lord Rickard Stark in an even calm voice, as he began to walk towards his son. He noticed Eddard motioning similarly towards the direwolves with what seemed to be a similar result. 

Rickard Stark was standing even with his second son in height, barely a yard away when he put his hands on Eddard's shoulders. So many things were going through his mind at this time. He quietly began, "Eddard, my son....you are ..."

Eddard responded breaking the silence, but somewhat more confident in his choice of words, "It is good to be home, father."  Eddard gestured towards the direwolf he had been mourning over until now and stated, "Father, we will need to prepare a tomb in the crypts for ... one of our House who has passed on,"

Rickard understood that his son was bonded with the alpha of the direwolf pack. By extension that large direwolf pack was a part of House Stark as House Stark was a part of that large direwolf pack. Rickard looked at his son now returned home and looked at the direwolves as if he were merely seeing other Starks in the Godswood and responded, "I will have Edric Poole fetch the stoneworkers as well as the sculptors for the statue."  

Overcome emotion he embraced his son in a hug and Eddard slowly after a few seconds returned the embrace. They separated as Eddard walked towards his bonded direwolf, the large grey-and-white furred one, who was trotting over to where they were standing followed by Shadow, Benjen's direwolf companion. Rickard Stark saw Benjen and a Crannogman, most likely Howland Reed, approaching as well.

Eddard motioned to the large grey-and-white furred direwolf, "Father, this is Cregan. His father had a name but it cannot be expressed in terms we'd understand. The closest I can come is 'First Son of the Seeker of the New Forest' as his father was the one who brought the direwolf pack down to the Wolfswood from North of the Wall around the time you married mother. Incidentally, Cregan will be returning to the Wolfswood with the pack in a day and will bringing his mate back with him to Winterfell."

Lord Rickard Stark nodded towards Cregan, "Cregan, you are part of House Stark so, it goes without saying that the pack will be always welcome in Winterfell. Winterfell is your home now." Cregan's eyes briefly shifted golden to grey to golden and he responded with a short but deep sounding chuff. 

Eddard smiled very slightly, stating, "I think Cregan understood."

The remaining direwolves moved in towards where Lord Rickard Stark and his son Eddard were standing next to Cregan. Shadow moved closer in as both Howland Reed and Benjen Stark arrived next to Eddard.  The large very dark grey direwolf chuffed briefly to Cregan then turned his head towards Lord Rickard Stark before leading the rest of the direwolves back towards the Hunter's Gate.

Rickard Stark looked to Eddard, "'Dark Second Son of the Seeker's Mate's Brother' is now the alpha, essentially the High Lord,  of the pack within the Wolfswood. He just paid his respects to his cousin and former High Lord and yourself. "  Lord Rickard Stark nodded and followed the direwolves as Eddard remained with Cregan, Benjen and Shadow, and Howland Reed.

Lord Rickard Stark nodded to Ser Rodrik Cassel, as the direwolves stopped along with Lord Rickard, "These direwolves are of House Stark. Ensure they are escorted out the Hunter's Gate with the same courtesy as such. Also send three of your men to wake and fetch Eldric Poole, Maester Walys and Yoren the Kennelmaster. We'll need to prepare the body of the deceased direwolf for internment in the crypts, so we'll need to get he body moved and prepared immediately."

Ser Rodrik Cassel looks slighltly wide-eyed for a moment, before complying  "As you command, Lord Stark."  Ser Rodrik Cassel and his guards followed the direwolves out, escorting them and showing the requested level of respect. 

Lord Rodrik Glover and Rickard Karstark approached Lord Stark as Ser Rodrik Cassel departed.  Lord Rodrik Glover spoke up, "Is there anything we can do?"

Rickard Stark looked at the Lord Rodrik Glover, saying in a tone of gratitude, "If you can, take Benjen and his direwolf to my Solar. I believe young Lady Dacey may be still awaiting him. Lady Maege is also there with my daughter Lyanna and Eddard's betrothed, Lady Barbrey Ryswell."  Lord Rodrik Glover nodded and headed towards where Benjen was standing next to his brother, the remaining two direwolves and Howland Reed.

Lord Stark then looked to Rickard Karstark, "If you don't mind hanging around until Eldric Poole gets here I can set you up to sleep in the spare room next to my Solar. We'll have a few things to discuss before your father, Beron Karstark, arrives. How many arrrived and are still in Karhold?"

"Around five thousand," said Rickard Karstark. "They've set up camp just outside of Karhold, on the side away from the main road. Commander Theon will be heading down with my father and House Stane. House Crowl and House Magnar will be in the convoy as well."  Rickard scowled, pausing for a moment, looking at Lord Rickard Stark, "Are you expecting we'll need to utilize them ?"

Lord Rickard Stark looked at Rickard Karstark, "I'm hoping it won't come to that, but if it's for the good of the North.  We'll find out during the Winter Gathering."  Rickard Stark exhaled and looked over towards the Heart Tree then looked to Karstark. As he saw the kennelmaster and the steward of Winterfell approaching, Rickard stated,  "In the meantime, we have an old Stark who has passed on who we need to move to their final resting place in the Crypts." 

Late Morning, 18th day, 10th Moon,  280 A.C.


Lord Rickard Stark had very little sleep and neither did had anyone in the family. His youngest assisted with moving the body of the deceased direwolf into the examination area near the kennels as the kennelmaster together with Maester Walys prepared the body for interment in the crypts. The staff under Poole had found an already large enough place in the crypts for the resting place for 'First Son of the Seeker of the New Forest'. 

It was ironic that the remains of the tiny anteroom in the crypts where Lord Cregan Stark and his steward had initially hidden the treasure he had discovered in the deeper recesses would form the frame for the sarcophagus; the anteroom itself was already missing its upper walls, which had been knocked away during the renovations and repairs of that area of the crypt in 257 AC, so it was merely a matter having a stoneworker of evening the levels out and creating a lid for the resulting sarcophagus. A large enough block of limestone was ordered from a nearby quarry after measurements were taken and a sculptor from Widow's Watch would be arriving in a couple of days to perform the carving of the statue whose base would form the lid for the sarcophagus. In the meantime, the body of First Son of the Seeker of the New Forest' was interred in an oversized ironwood coffin lined with salt in the temporary mausoleum area of the upper levels of the crypts.

Rickard and his son Eddard walked up to his Solar followed by Cregan who seemed to move rather quietly for his size. Howland Reed had handed Lord Rickard a set of scrolls from his father which was a detailed report on the progress and plans for Moat Caillin, before retiring himself to a room in the Guest House arranged by Eldric Poole. And Benjen had been shuttled off earlier by Lord Rodrik Glover to finally rendezvous with the ladies and spend some time with Lady Dacey Mormont.  Last he had heard they were in the Guest House as well visiting with the Greatjon.

Cregan had gracefully maneuvered the stairwell up to the level where the Lord's and Lady's chambers and solars as well as the family chambers were located. Thank Brandon the Builder for building the main corridors in the inner castle with rather wide with high ceilings, thought Rickard as the massive direwolf followed behind them. Eddard and Rickard moved the two chairs and small table near the hearth to the side to give Cregan room to lounge in front of the warmth. The direwolf let out a yawn and a small chuff before he settled in to sleep in  front of the hearth.  Rickard sat down in his chair behind the desk as Eddard slowly , somewhat apprehensively, sat in one accross the desk from his father.

"Forgive me father, it's been a long time since I've been in this room," said Eddard observantly. "It is familiar yet unfamiliar."

"Understandable, son," replied Rickard sympathetically. "I fear however that your time for getting reacquainted with Winterfell and with your family may be at a minimum due to the situation."

Eddard nodded, "Given the circumstances my elder brother seems to have put us in, I wasn't expecting such."

Rickard sighed, "Aye, but the situation you're walking into is not entirely the result of Brandon's carelessness. Your future goodfather, Lord Rodrik Ryswell, has been stalling  and we had received his final proposal. Walys and I went over it last night before your arrival."

"I am assuming he wanted more than just a small fortune in gold dragons and a betrothal of myself to his daughter Barbrey?"

Rickard nodded, "Aye son. However, he wanted what I could not give him without breaking other contracts with other houses. Rodrik Ryswell wanted essentially everything we are developing on the sunset coast under his House's control."

"Not to be insulting towards my future goodfamily, " responded Eddard, "but Barbrey Ryswell's a second daughter isn't she? Why not his eldest daughter Bethany then?  Admitted I'm a second son but Brandon being unavailable due to the alliance agreement with the Lord Paramount of the Riverlands, makes that an appropriate offer."  Eddard added after a few seconds, "...at least from my interpretations of proper alliance diplomacy should be from my studies. Denys was always better at evaluating such than myself."

Rickard nodded, "As he should be given he may be the presumptive heir to the Eyrie and in line ot be Lord Paramount of the Vale after his cousin Elbert."  Rickard smiled briefly as he said this, no longer doubting the wisdom his decision to send Eddard to foster in the Vale under Lord Jon Arryn.  The activity of the Tyroshi slavers was unforeseen but Eddard has learned a great deal since gaining his freedom and returning to the Eyrie.

"The truth of the matter, Eddard," continued his father, "is Lord Rodrik Ryswell under normal circumstances would have jacked up the compensation fee to perhaps a hundred thousand gold dragons at most and insisted on perhaps some relief on his taxation to Winterfell. Keep in mind, House Dustin was equally wronged as Willam was initially betrothed to Barbrey Ryswell. I had arranged a betrothal to Justan Flint's youngest and only daughter, Unella Flint, and a compensation fee of fifty thousand gold dragons and House Dustin had happily renewed their vassal contract with House Stark."

His son Eddard queried, "What sort of circumstances?"

Rickard merely stated, "Rogar Bolton is looking to make a move against House Stark. House Ryswell had regency contracts for his sons with House Bolton.  "  He paused, "As far as the agreements for Sea Dragon's Point itself, you are of the age of majority now. You are officially the Lord of Sea Dragon's Point and of all Stark territories governed from there. I have Walys checking on legal precedents at the moment, but it will be your decision on any decisions between House Stark and any other house for that matter on the affairs of the Sea Dragon's Point and House Stark Territory along the Sunset Coast."

Eddard nodded in agreement, "It's a lot to take in, father, but I think I'm up to the challenge."  Eddard leaned back, "As far as either House Ryswell or House Bolton, I'm very unsure as I have no real knowledge of their members currently. My betrothed I know nothing of past through what I've seen through Cregan's late father's eyes."

Rickard Stark agreed, stating, "Well, they don't know you either, which can be an advantage. I'm going to be frank, they're not expecting you as you are really. Given what was witnessed last night along with the results of your encounter with Zakaro the Dothraki just north of Cerwyn Road along the Kingsroad...that was your doing,correct?"

"Well, Howland dispatched one," replied Eddard. "But Yes."

Rickard's expression softened slightly at his mention of the young Crannogman, but his father leaned forward, "Your reputation since you've arrived in White Harbor has preceded you. It is known now that you are also a warg, and, judging by what I had seen last night, a very powerful one. The events of during the Hour of the Owl through the Hour of the Wolf in the Godswood alone will have repercussions as far as how you are perceived by the North. You may still be loved by those close to you, but you now have the added burden of heightened expectations from your allies as well as increased fear from your  enemies. "

"Fear? That's...."  replied Eddard questioning.

Rickard looked at Eddard, "You should know better than anyone what fear can drive a man to do and to become. You will fear whatever is a threat to you and will seek to remove that threat. Ned, I would call you a liar if you told me you didn't have any fear of Vardokan son of Vrakka and the rest of the Clan of the Bloody Ram when you sent them to be judged by the Old Gods along with almost all of the Tyroshi slavers present in that arena."

Rickard saw something happen behind his son's eyes when he mentioned such. Cregan twitched slightly in his sleep at that time, letting out a brief whimper. Eddard slowly said, "You're right, father. I ...still..."  I've seen that same look on several faces of some of the Southron veterans who have seen some of the nastier skirmishes during the War of the Ninepenny Kings, thought Rickard Stark. No man that young should have experienced such horror.

"But you overcame that fear to strike out againt those who deprived you of the freedom the Old Gods had given you and regain that freedom," said Rickard.

"I suppose," stated Eddard.

"Fear will drive inherently good men to either acts of bravery in the face of seemingly insurmountable odds or they will cower to it and be broken. One cannot be brave without fear," said Rickard. "It will also drive inherently evil men to do despicable acts against other men in order to save their own skins. Lord Rogar Bolton and his brothers Royce and Elmar are not what I would call good men. These men will fear you, especially if your future goodfather begins to fear the consequences of crossing his goodson more than crossing House Bolton."

Rickard paused slightly before saying, "That fear will make them more dangerous. So how do we solve this issue?"

"I'm guessing being a very good fighter will not help me in this aspect, nor will being a powerful warg?" said Eddard

Rickard put his right hand up with his index finger pointing skywards, "Yes. I think the key just might be figuring out who in House Ryswell and House Bolton would be more inclined to side with House Stark or at least Lord Eddard Stark of Sea Dragon's Point.  My gut feeling is that may start with your betrothed who is by the way very close with your sister Lyanna."

Eddard thought for a moment, "I see where you're going with this, father. Barbrey will most likely end up considering herself Lady Stark of Sea Dragon's Point and essentially top lady of the Sunset Coast. She is sister to Lady Bethany Bolton and goodsister to Roose Bolton, Rogar's heir. Assuming I get Roose on my side that neutralizes any potential opposition from House Bolton."

Rickard stated, "That's the general idea."

Eddard thinks for a moment, "I suppose if will work if Barbrey had truly moved past Brandon. I was warged into Cregan's father a couple of days ago and heard an entire conversation between Lyanna and Barbrey en route back from the hunting cabin. A Valyrian phrase comes to mind when describing my betrothed: Ánghowa iā ābra, jiōragon zirȳla vēdros ." Rickard noted the High Valyrian, Scorn a woman, receive her wrath. Eddard continued speaking, "The other unknown to me is Brandon himself. He is my elder brother and your heir and will eventually be my liege lord, but his carelessness had determined the course of my life. Will he act in such a manner in the future, letting his base feelings control his actions?"

Rickard noted Eddard was far more obervant than he was given credit.

"We need to pull out House together if we seek to divide our enemies," stated Eddard.  "I'll have to get to know my betrothed at any rate, and given I still have yet to talk at any length with Lya, that may be the way forward."   Rickard noted Eddard paused for a moment, "I do hope that I will mean more to Lady Barbrey than merely a means of avenging the heart Brandon seemed to have broken."

Chapter Text

Early Morning, 18th day, 10th Moon,  280 A.C.

Benjen walked into his father’s Solar again with Lord Rodrik Glover, followed by Shadow.  

“Weren’t we just here earlier,” said Benjen with a mirthful chuckle. 

Lord Rodrik Glover stated jovially, “Well hopefully better subject matter for discussion.”

“Aye,” agreed Benjen as he stepped in. Oddly Shadow did not make a beeline for the place in front of the hearth, insetad making a beeline for Lady Dacey Mormont. Dacey was dressed very different from when he last had seen her. Her chestnut brown hair instead of the single practical braid had been arranged in a rather elaboratehairstyle with set of two tight braids on either side of her head which merged with a larger braid in the back. Above the point of the merge was a crown of sorts which was made from winter roses from the glass gardens and woven down the larger braid in the back. Dacey was wearing the high-necked white linen gown with a grey bodice and trim he had remembered Lyanna wearing three years previous at the betrothal feast for his older brother Brandon and Lady Catelyn Tully in Riverrun. 

Benjen was speechless as Shadow seemed to be starved for attention from Dacey who seemed to indulge the direwolf pup by giving him a gentle rub on the head as he sat down next to her. “Hello again Shadow,” Dacey said with Shadow responding with a friendly whimper. 

Maege looked to Lyanna after she watched Shadow’s interactions with Dacey, saying, “You were right, Lady Lyanna.”

Benjen wondered what Maege meant by that as did apparently Lord Rodrik Glover as they both looked towards his sister Lyanna. Lyanna at this time was at her fathers liquor cabinet getting a second bottle of Runceford Strongwine from the cabinet as Lady Barbrey Ryswell said with some concern, “That the second bottle of that you’re opening Lyanna. You sure your father will mind?”

Lyanna stated matter-of-factly, “There’s eight more in there.  He got those bottles as a present from the Lady Paramount of the Reach to celebrate her brother Eddard’s birth. Mother went into labor with Eddard around the time that Father had arrived in King’s Landing to swear his fealty to the crown at the end of ‘63, beginning of ‘64.  Apparently this was a dual present and apology as if I remember father’s words correctly Lady Olenna Tyrell was embarrassed at her oaf of a husband Lord Luthor Tyrell’s insensitivity to father’s worry about mother while he was away. Maege you want a refill?”

“If you’re offering Lady Lyanna I will not refuse,” said Maege. “Although I think I may just slowly drink this one as it is getting near sunrise.”

“Dacey? Barb?” said Lyanna while both held their cups forward. Lyanna grabbed a couple of new cups for Benjen and Lord Rodrik Glover and filled such handing them to Benjen and Lord Rodrik Glover, before pouring herself a glass. 

Benjen looked to Lyanna, “So what subject of discussion were you right about Lyanna?” Benjen was intently curious mainly as Lady Maege Mormont’s reaction seemed to be one of familiarity regarding he and Shadow and the Shadow’s interaction with Dacey. 

Lyanna was frank, “Maege asked about you and well. I told her the truth. You’ve always been the shy optimist.  Always cheerful but never outgoing. which is why I was surprised when he brought Dacey here tonight initially. You never reach out to others for friendship, it’s usually a gradual thing but , for some reason, Dacey seems to have taken to you at first sight and you to her  Shadow has never left your side nor has he let father or myself near him as close as Dacey has been.”

Benjen thought for a moment. Nothing Lyanna stated was false. He felt comfortable around Dacey and had the feeling that Dacey felt the same. Shadow’s affinity for Dacey was partially from the warg bonding but wasn’t at his active encouragement; Shadow felt the comfortable calm and affection around Dacey that his warg had felt. It was natural. Benjen was pretty sure Cregan would behave the same around whomever Eddard’s Lady will ultimately be.  They were about the standard age for betrothals as well and he could do much much worse, given both of his brothers’ betrothals were for mainly political reasons regarding alliances. 

Benjen could only say softly, “There is no denying the truth. I do feel somewhat different around Dacey, but, I think we ... ”   He stammered trying to find the words. 

Dacey similarly seemed to be getting rather red in the face as well, “I really like Benjen but can we not....”

“Well, before the presumably future Lord and Lady Stark of Achyldenloch turn the same color of the background of my House’s sigil, I suppose we should fill everyone in on what has been going on in the Godswood,” said Lord Rodrik Glover, “Shouldn’t we young Lord Benjen?”

Benjen, thankful for the relief from his longtime mentor, took a sip from his cup, “Yes, of course, Well to sum up, the pack of direwolves in the Wolfswood are part of House Stark. The elderly direwolf who guided us back to Winterfell the day before yesterday has gone to hunt with the Old Gods. He said his final prayers in the Godswood and his sons had said goodbye. Father and Eddard along with Howland Reed, Maester Walys, Steward Poole, and Kennelmaster Yoren are currently preparing the body for its final rest in the crypts. I had just finished assisting with moving the body of the old direwolf into one of the storerooms near kennels as the kennelmaster together with Maester Walys began to prepare the body so it doesn’t rot whilst we’re awaiting the construction of his sarcophagus and statue.” 

Everyone seemed silent at what Benjen had just stated. Benjen felt they were looking at him as if he just sprouted horns out of his head and proclaimed himself the King of the Aurochs. Maege broke the silence, “Makes sense, given House Stark’s sigil is a Direwolf. House Targaryen’s is a dragon.”

Benjen states matter-of-factly as if it’s a minor side issue, “Oh and Eddard’s returned home. Father and he spent a bit of time talking afterwards. Well he and father and Cregan.”

“Cregan?” asked Lyanna.

Benjen responded, shrugging, “Eddard’s bonded direwolf. Big grey-and-white furred one. Pretty fierce looking but he seemed pretty calm around Ned and father. I think Cregan’s got a mate too so she’ll probably be showing up in Winterfell very soon.”

The next hour or so in the Solar was pretty much a blur for Benjen. Lord Rodrik Glover escorted Lady Maege Mormont back to the Guest House. Benjen was sure there was more that was going on between Lord Rodrik Glover and Lady Maege than mere friendship. He had also had noticed Dacey’s eyes, they were a piercing icy-blue but with flecks of bluish-grey, not quite like her Mother’s which were the normal icy-blue common to Mormonts.  Lord Rodrik Glover’s eyes were a unique bluish grey as was common with House Glover, and wondered if perhaps Maege’s husband was a minor son from House Glover or a Snow perhaps from House Glover. As if it really mattered since he felt himself drawn to Dacey. 

Benjen and Dacey followed Lord Rodrik Glover and Maege Mormont with Shadow padding along closely behind. The went down the stairs in the southwest tower and took a turn down the corridor which led to the Glass Gardens, heading out through them into the northern ward towards the Guest House. Dacey and Benjen had parted ways with Maege Mormont and Lord Rodrik Glover at the Guest House heading with Shadow to the Godswood. Benjen remembered hearing Lord Rodrik Glover say to Maege, “Dacey is in good hands with Benjen, Maege. Raised him as much as Lord Rickard Stark has so I know he’s an intelligent as well as an honorable lad. Let them have some more time  to themselves.”

Benjen and Dacey reached the Godswood and sat near the Heart Tree as Benjen described the events of the night that he witnessed in detail for Dacey. Dacey had sat next to Benjen as both felt their fingers intertwine as Benjen seemed to ramble on and on about Achyldenloch and how he needed to speak with the Greatjon once he wakes up. 

“Do you think I’d make a good Lady of Achyldenloch to your Lord?” asked Dacey. 

“If you want,” said Benjen. “I mean we’re not betrothed yet. As I’m not a Lord yet until I reach the age of majority that’s kind of up to my father just as your betrothal would be up to your mother. I just don’t want to get our hopes ...”

Benjen was silenced rather quickly by Dacey’s quick embrace of him as she planted a kiss on his lips. Benjen was taken aback but embraced her as well returning the kiss. Shadow quirked his head curiously then for some reason got himself up and wandered off, as Benjen seemed to get slightly dizzy. They broke the kiss after Benjen was alerted to a familiar sound, mainly that of his father clearing his throat. 

Both Benjen and Dacey looked over to see Lord Rickard Stark standing over them with Eddard standing behind slightly and to his father’s left. “It’s approaching the end of the Hour of the Nightengale. I think perhaps you may wish to escort Lady Dacey Mormont to the suites in the Guest House reserved for House Mormont.”  

Benjen stood up helping Dacey to her feet gently. Lord Rickard looked at Lady Dacey for a moment, “Has he treated you honorably, Lady Dacey?”

“Yes, My Lord Stark, “ said Lady Dacey. “The ... um... my kissing Benjen was my idea... I started....”

Lord Rickard Stark laughed slightly as Eddard seemed to have a oddly mirthful smile. Benjen noted that Eddard had the appearance of the Starks of Old but the pleasant ever-affable Eddard showed through at this moment. Lord Rickard faced Benjen stating to both,  “It’s okay. Just make sure you remember to treat her honorably and respect her House as she should respect yours, Benjen.”  He then turned to Dacey, “Tell your mother I’d like to have a word her as well, Lady Dacey, before Benjen and I meet with Lord Jeor Mormont, the Lords Umber, and the Lords of the Mountain Clans regarding Achyldenloch.”

Benjen thought for a moment, clearing his head, looking at Dacey momentarily before nodding to his father. “Understood, Lord Father.”  

Lord Rickard Stark and Eddard headed with Cregan out of the Godswood towards the Great Keep, as Dacey and Benjen headed hand-in-hand towards the Guest House, Shadow following them. They headed up the stairwell towards the second floor. They entered the rooms meant as the suites for House Mormont on that floor. Both saw no sign of Maege Mormont. They however saw Old Nan and a couple of the housemaids entertaining Alysanne and two of the children of the local staff. 

“Your mum’s gone to the Umber suites in the next section of this floor. The Greatjon has woken up from the slumber bestowed upon him by too much ale and your brother Eddard,” said Old Nan as she directed one of the housemaids to seemed to be fascinated with Shadow’s tail, looking as though she was about about to grab it. Shadow looked behind him as the housemaid grabbed Alysanne, quirking his head to the side. The housemaid handed Alysanne to Benjen as Alysanne hugged Benjen as he carried her best he could out of the door.

Benjen nodded as Dacey turned to leave eventually finding themselves entering the room. Maester Walys was talking with Lady Maege Mormont as they entered with Shadow following them in.  Lady Maege had changed out of her ringmail to an informal Northern style gown. “Lord Jon Umber should be okay, Lady Maege. I see no issue with his breathing or lasting injury to his neck or head. He will most likely wake with the usual aches and pains gained from a night of drink,” said Maester Walys. “If you’ll excuse me, I must attend to some other matters for Lord Stark.”  Maester Walys walked out as Dacey let go of her hand in Benjen’s walking towards her mother. 

“Assuming you’ve been in the Godswood,” said Lady Maege as Benjen handed Alysanne to Maege who took her into her arms. 

“Lord Stark told us he wants to talk to you before he meets with Uncle Jeor and the Lords Umber and the Lords of the Mountain Clans,” said Dacey. 

Maege nodded, “This is regarding?”

“Achyldenloch.” replied Dacey. Benjen kept quiet although she did have a slight smile on her face as Dacey returned to where Benjen and Shadow were standing. 

“Okay....shall we see how the Greatjon is feeling this morning?” stated Maege in a cheerful voice. “Let me go get the breakfast left for the Lord Umber,” she said as she carried Alysanne into the another room as Benjen and Dacey entered the room the Greatjon was sleeping in. Shadow padded in after taking one look in Alysanne and Maege’s direction.

Upon entering the room they saw the giant Umber lying on one of the beds with just his tunic and leather armor britches on. His boots, surcoat, and coat were on the table opposite the bed, and his greatsword was in its scabbard leaned against the same table.  Shadow immediately went over to the Greatjon and sniffed at him noting that the Greatjon was not stirring as yet. The direwolf pup thought it was a good idea to begin licking the Greatjon’s face as Benjen opened his mouth to scold the pup but stopped as the Greatjon stirred. 

Benjen sat next to Dacey on the bed opposite the Greatjon and held her hand as Maege stepped out of the room to fetch the breakfast and ale brought up by the Guest House staff. The Greatjon grumbled a few obscenities possibly under his breath as he awoke. Dacey shouted, “Ma! Lord Umber’s awake!”

Maege Mormont entered holding Alysanne in one hand and the Greatjon’s breakfast in the other. She put Alysanne down on the floor, who made a beeline for Shadow hugging  the direwolf pup roughly. Shadow gave Alysanne a brief sniff before falling over with Alysanne’s embrace.

Maege asked  Greatjon, “How are you feeling?”

“Bit of a headache. Never blacked out like that after only that many pitchers of ale,” replied the Greatjon. “What in the Old Gods name happened to me ?”

Benjen stated bluntly,  “Someone thought it would be funny to trip Lord Alaric Reed’s son whilst he was carrying two pitchers of ale back to the table where he and my brother were sitting. He accidentally spilled both in your direction. My brother decided to save Howland Reed from your temper.”

“Brandon did that?” said the Greatjon. 

Benjen shook his head, "Brandon’s not even here yet. He's still heading hear from White Harbor with the House Manderly."  Dacey laughed with a snort which made Benjen laugh as well.

Maege shook her head, "That was Eddard Stark who leaped upon you and put you in a hold until you passed out.” The Greatjon sat up as Maege handed him a pitcher of weak morning ale and a loaf of dark bread cut open in the middle with several thick rashers of bacon shoved into the opening. “Here this will help you recover,” said Maege as the Greatjon shifted his weight on the bed, accepting the offered meal. He took a bite of his breakfast chasing it a swig of the weak morning ale, “So Eddard Stark has returned. What the hell happened last night?  Never got a good look at Eddard Stark either.”

Maege said “Too much happened last night actually. I’ll fill you in later. As far as what Eddard looked like...” Maege sighed,  looking  like she was thinking for a moment, “I’ve not seen anyone built like him before. He was lean and hard, but extremely muscular. He had his tunic off as I think he was in mid-changing such for a thicker tunic.  He’d definitely seen battle based on the scars all over his back and chest and some on his arms. He had a pretty nasty one across his face. Looks like he’d barely dodged someone taking a swing at him with a sword or axe.” Maege paused for a moment, “He had this stare with those icy grey eyes that was frightening, as I saw him look at the you like a ... damn bear or a wolf looking at its prey...then he leapt across the tables just like one and landed on your back. I thought he was going to kill you initially, Greatjon, but when the you crumpled like a sack of turnips, it was odd as he seemed to care where you fell, being rather gentle. He helped his Crannogman friend up. He threw the old tunic in the great hearth. I found it odd until I saw it in the candlelight just before it fueled the fire in the hearth. Had a bunch of dried blood on it like he’d been in a nasty fight previously. I’m guessing other men’s blood as he had no open wounds. He stood there for a moment looking into the fire before he left with his friend, and I got a really good look at him then. “ 

Maege paused for a moment, then looked to Benjen. 

“I daresay if we had someone like him on Bear Island, the squids would take one look at him and turn their longboats around and give up reaving altogether. He looked like one of the older statues found in your family’s crypts, Benjen, I saw them once when I was Dacey’s age and followed my older brother and your father and two other lords as they carried your grandfather Edwyle into his final resting place. Pretty much everyone else in the Inn saw what I saw too as it got real quiet after that even after as he and his friend gave coins for their ale and meal to the barkeep and walked out of the place. At the time, I was not sure if that was Eddard or not but the man definitely looked like a Stark. Now I know it was Eddard Stark and your brother is definitely a Stark.” 

Maege looked at Benjen, “After last night, I think the Old Gods brought your brother back to us like one of the Starks of Old, the Kings of Winter.”  Benjen felt uneasy with that statement mostly as he feared the truth behind it. Benjen was comforted by Dacey’s hand holding his a bit tighter as he though she had sensed his unease.

Chapter Text

Afternoon, 18th day, 10th Moon,  280 A.C.

Lyanna woke up from her slumber, slightly hungover.  She removed the gown she wore the night before as well as her smallclothes before wandering over to the table to grab her hairbrush. Lyanna and Barbrey Ryswell had drank way too much of the Runceford Strongwine, and that combined with the ale they had earlier gave them with hangovers. The meal of the kidney pie was enough however to prevent the digestive upset of their hangovers, so dehydration and a bad headache from such seemed to be what was ailing both, especially Barbrey who seemed to be feeling worse than Lyanna. 

“Remind me not to have any more strongwine ever,” said Barbrey, looking to the window which faced west noting the afternoon sun was beginning to shine in. Instinctively Barbrey pulled the fur over her head at the bright light. “Ugh,” she said. “I can’t see my betrothed in this state of dishevelment. I’ll need a few hours before I ... do I have to meet him today....can’t I... you know?”

Lyanna chuckled weakly, brushing her hair, “Put it off?”

“Yes,” replied Barbrey curling herself into a fetal position as her head pounded.

“Probably not but you do have a little time so you can at least recover, but it’s best you get to know Eddard before Brandon arrives.” Lyanna stood, bending over briefly whilst brushing to make sure to get the tangles out of the back of her hair. “Most likely Eddard will be getting some much needed sleep now as well. I heard him and father still up this morning in father’s solar.” Lyanna finished brushing her hair, afterwards donning a pair of riding britches and boots along with a loose fitting tunic and belt.  She looked  over at Barbrey, “Do you want me to ask the staff to bring a tub up to run you a nice hot bath?”

Barbrey peeked out from under the furs, “If you could...”   

Lyanna smiled as she exited the room, telling one of the chambermaids leaving the guest room near her father’s solar the need for a bath for Lady Barbrey Ryswell. Lyanna stopped by Eddard’s room with the door slightly ajar. One of the guards at the door stopped her. 

“You sure you want to go in there, Lady Lyanna?” said the guard. “There’s a huge....”

“Direwolf in there?” Lyanna snapped back, possibly a bit less polite than she would normally be due to her slowly ebbing headache sapping her polite patience. “Pretty sure I’ll be pretty safe around a direwolf bonded with my warg brother, Tobyn, being a Stark.”

Lyanna pushed her way past the guard Tobyn into the room to see her brother Eddard asleep on top of his bed in just his britches. Next to the bed appearing as big as the bed itself was a solid mass of grey and white fur. The direwolf stirred momentarily raising its head to look at Lyanna briefly sniffing once at the air. The direwolf then shifted its weight around and lowered its massive head towards Eddard nudging him slightly with its snout before going back to it’s slumbering after a short chuff. 

Lyanna watched her older brother awaken. His scarred face seemed to soften as he saw her and he smiled. “Good morning, Lya.”

“Actually good afternoon. Been a long night for everyone staying up way past the Hour of the Nightengale,” laughed Lya sitting on a nearby chair next to the bed, just past Cregan..She motioned to the large direwolf as she took a seat, “I take it this is Cregan.”

Eddard nodded as he propped himself up against the headboard of the bed to a sitting position. “He stepped down from being the alpha of the pack to live here. His trusted lieutenant, for lack of a better term, is the pack’s alpha now. I’ve warged him a couple of times and he seems to be a good fit.”  Eddard looked at Lya for a moment, “You look beautiful by the way, Lya. You do look a lot like great aunt Jocelyn. though.”

Lyanna was taken aback, “I do? How would you know what aunt Jocelyn....”

Eddard interrupted, “Large portrait of her at the Gates of the Moon. Denys had told me that during the brief stay in the Vale enroute back from your betrothal back to Storm’s End, Robert spent would spend a lot of time looking at that portrait in that castle’s library hall.”

Lyanna nodded, “Thank you for making him tell me about Mya by the way.”

Eddard scoffed, “He’s his own man and a stubborn one at that. I didn’t make him do anything, Lya.”

Lyanna took a deep breath, “Ser Elbert Arryn accompanied my betrothed to our betrothal feast here in Winterfell last year a little after your escape from your....ordeal.  Ser Elbert told father in some confidence that the only one who didn’t truly fear you in the Eyrie was his cousin Denys, most likely because he never had to face you on the tiltyard having been lamed in that accident.”

“Lya, I think he actually is falling in love with you, possibly in a similar manner to the way I saw Benjen looking at that young Mormomt lady,” stated Eddard with a shrug. “I told him that if he loved you he’d tell the truth about any of his faults and failures. If the feeling was mutual, you’d understand.”

Lyanna leaned forward towards Cregan, giving into the temptation to pet the animal. She did admire how soft his fur felt although there was a slight oiliness to it. Lyanna remembered Yoren saying that wolves had a greasier coat than the dogs especially in summer when their softer undercoat wasn’t as thick. Direwolves must be more similar to wolves in this aspect. Cregan shifted position so Lyanna could pet him on the back of the neck behind  the ears. “I guess thanks. I am fond of him. He seems to not mind me riding or shooting a bow. Robert's not so keen on me carrying a sword, but he said he’d have no problem with me carrying a spear for some reason.”

“I’m guessing hunting,” said Eddard. “Plans on having you along with him on his hunts I guess in the Woods around Storm’s End. I would not be surprised if he tries to take your sons out hunting as soon as they’re weaned.”  Lyanna smiled laughing.

“Sounds like you were good friends with Robert,” said Lyanna hopefully. Eddard shook his head much to Lyanna’s disappointment.

“Not really...I liked him and respected him but Denys was the only one in the Eyrie I ever really had time to befriend after ... my return,” Eddard said with some difficulty. “He was the only one who would really talk to me. This was partially due to the fact I had to re-learn Common Tongue having only been addressed in Valyrian or the dialect of Old Tongue used by the Vale Mountain Clans. And because Denys aided me in catching up on my studies. Your betrothed, while he did remind me a lot of my memories of  Brandon, was never was the studious type. Besides everyone gave me a wide berth after the ... incident in the tiltyard.”

Lyanna recalled that incident, but initially thought Robert was exaggerating part of it. There was a sparring match which Eddard didn’t realize he accepted at the time. He had walked across the yard having found himself late for his meeting with Denys for some remedial lessons in mathematics. Unwittingly, he was viewed as the one stepping forward for a challenge as he was attempting to cross the yard in a match selection for a fully armored Ser Halys Coldwater, a rather large knight who also wielded a warhammer. Eddard had disarmed Ser Halys and had him on the ground in a matter of seconds with an injured Ser Halys yielding to a very confused Eddard. 

Eddard sighed,  “Robert’s genuinely a good man though. He’ll probably need you to keep him focused and keep his temper in check.”

Lyanna chuckled, “I kind of noticed during the betrothal feast. Must be a Baratheon trait, given their house words.” Lyanna paused for a bit, “What do you think about your betrothed?”

“To be honest I haven’t. I’ve seen her when warged. She’s attractive, but ... if I had a choice ... “ Eddard began.

“I know,” responded Lyanna. “Although I think she is beginning to fear House Stark.”

“She fears me. She doesn’t fear House Stark,” said Eddard. “You do remember I’ve have a gift from the Old Gods. I know exactly how she described what she’d like to do Brandon if she gets a hold of him. If one wants an example of the old saying Ánghowa iā ābra, jiōragon zirȳla vēdros, they need to look no further than Barbrey Ryswell.”

Lyanna found herself defending her foster sister, “Barbrey has her moments. You just...”

Eddard stood as Lyanna said this pulling on his boots and grabbing what looked like one of Brandon’s spare tunics, noticing it appeared slightly long. “...have to get to know her? I don’t blame her for feeling that way about Brandon given the circumstances. Father said the same thing by the way about getting to know Barbrey, but it will be on my terms.”

“And what is that supposed to mean?”

“House Ryswell will bend to the will of House Stark. Not the other way around,” said Eddard, adding “Or they will perish.”

“But the Vassal House Agreement? the Betrothal Agreement?” said Lyanna looking at Eddard as if he had just inherited Brandon’s Ego. “You can’t very well tell Lord Rodrick Ryswell ... “

“Can’t tell him what?” said Eddard, his facial expression hardening to match Maege Mormonts description last night of him.  “I became Lord Stark of Sea Dragon’s Point and the Sunset Coast the moment I set foot back into Winterfell. According to Northern Law, I have the final say on any agreement which affects my lands. And I know what my lands are. They stretch from the edge of the Wolfswood near the Winding Stream on House Glover’s Borders down to the Saltspear. Torrhen’s River which feeds Lake Tallhart near Torrhen’s Square forms the border between House Dustin and my lands. The hills between the west fork of Torrhen’s river and the east fork of the Rillstone river form my border with House Ryswell’s lands. Further north where the Twin Lakes are is my border with House Whitehill and House Tallhart.”  He pulled on the tunic before saying , “All three major harbors out of four which are halfway under construction are on my land. The fourth being Flint’s Finger owned by House Flint. Sea Dragon’s Point is on my lands, Grey Harbor is on House Slate’s land which is a vassal house to House Stark of Sea Dragon’s Point and the Sunset Coast, and the future Rillstone Harbor was entirely part of my land prior to any initial negotiations with House Ryswell.”

“If you’re curious my offer to Lord Rodrick Ryswell, it will be 70,000 Gold Dragons and betrothal to his daughter Barbrey. That is all House Ryswell will receive.” said Eddard forcefully. “I have no issues with any offers to foster and further the education of his young sons Roger, Rickard or Roose. Rickard Ryswell can learn alot from Lord Rodrik Glover, who will be re-instated as Castellan of Sea Dragon’s Point. Ser Wendel Manderly will essentially be doing what Lord Rodrik Glover did for Sea Dragon’s Point, only on a much larger scale, given the panned size of the harbor as well as the planned facilities such as shipyards and trade markets. Father will be discussing this with Lord Wyman Manderly and Ser Wendel will be a Lord in his own right and House Manderly of Rillstone will be a vassal house under House Stark of Sea Dragon’s Point and the Sunset Coast.”

“But I heard about the Regency Agreements,” said Lyanna concerned. 

“I’m pretty sure I am not bound by those agreements. Neither will Barbrey Stark as Lady of Sea Dragon’s Point and the Sunset Coast be bound by the agreements of her mother house,” said Eddard coldly.  “The intent behind those was for House Bolton to be regent to the Ryswell boys until they were of age in key positions on the Sunset Coast, thereby giving House Bolton control over my territory. Their plan was obviously for my fate to be the same as House Condon’s Lord.”

“What about Bethany?” said Lyanna. 

“I know very little about her.  If she’s innocent of this plot, she’s merely a hostage and she will come under the mercy of House Stark,” said Eddard. “This will of course depend on her husband, Roose Bolton, as will the fate of House Ryswell and House Bolton.”

Lyanna stated, “I heard a rumor Roose loved Elspeth, but his father flayed her alive and tortured her for weeks before she died just to teach Roose obedience. Roose might not want a repeat of the same thing if he’s now got a second chance at a wife and potentially a family.”

“That’s what father said,” Eddard offered. “If Roose Bolton truly loves Bethany, he may prove an ally.  At any rate, House Ryswell and House Bolton will get called out by myself during the Winter Gathering of the Lords. The only issue I’m worried about is Brandon. I’ll need to know that he stands united with me. Father is one thing but Brandon is the heir to House Stark.”

Lyanna nods, “I don’t think that will be very easy Eddard. Not after word  last night’s events in the Godswood have begun to spread. House Mormont, House Glover, House Karstark have members of their houses already here so word has spread back to them. By the time all the Lords arrive everyone will know.”

“I recognize Brandon will still be my liege lord, but he needs to keep his ego and anger in check,” said Eddard. “Perhaps I shoulld maybe talk to him initially with father, so we can make sure we’re all going in the same direction.”

Lyanna scoffed, “Good luck with that then.”

“Maybe Lady Catelyn will talk some sense into him?” pondered Eddard. “You seem to have been able to talk sense into Robert.”

“Catelyn Tully has her own issues,” said Lyanna. “The betrothal feast in Riverrun was not my idea of a good time. Catelyn will not be a good Lady of Winterfell. She’s good at running a house, but she acted as if the North will adapt to her rather than the other way around. She wants a full blown Sept built within Winterfell.”

Eddard scoffed, “That’s not going to happen.”
 
“Still she’s going to be our goodsister.”  Lyanna smiled defeatedly as Eddard nodded in agreement. 

Cregan yawned widely as he propped himself up.  Lyanna looked at Cregan, “Looks like your friend wants out of this stuffy bedroom. Up for a few rounds with the longbow?”

Eddard said quietly, “I’m not much of an archer, but okay.”

Lyanna and Eddard walked down the corridor towards the stairs of the southwest tower and headed out the front entrance of the Great Keep down to the courtyard of the inner castle. They were followed by Cregan who seemed to be oddly at home walking throught the wards of Winterfell castle. They walked out through the gatehouse to the inner castle to the southern ward turning left to head towards what was essentially the recreation ward with a full tiltyard as well as a kitchens and a brewery as well as areas for markets. Lyanna and Eddard happened upon Ser Rodrik Cassel and the newer guard recruits undergoing training drills with longswords and shields. Cregan stopped behind Lyanna chuffing slightly as he sniffed the top of her head. 

Ser Rodrik Cassel approached slightly startled at Cregan but approached Eddard, “I know you’d probably outmatch anyone here, Lord Eddard, but perhaps you may lend a bit of advice to some of the new recruits to House Stark’s infantry?”

Eddard nodded, “I’d be more than glad to, Ser Rodrik.”  Eddard began to walk off with Ser Rodrik, as Lyanna looked at Cregan. She saw his eyes flash golden then grey then golden again, before Cregan nudged her along to the tiltyard stands. Lyanna sat down on the bleacher style bench seats, as Cregan maneuvered himself onto the bleachers as well to a somewhat comfortable position.  

Lyanna saw Eddard from a distance demonstrating some of his prowess on one of the larger recruits who seemed more skilled, but oddly having the recruit attack him in the same manner, stopping at times to point out some mistakes or differences in technique. The group of recruits seemed to be watching intently as Eddard was demonstrating. Ser Rodrik Cassel and Eddard then broke the thirty-odd recruits into pairs and had them drilling each other with what they just learned. Eddard and Ser Rodrik Cassel walked amongst them, correcting mistakes and habits which may cost lives in an actual battle and educating and encouraging the young 

It seemed to be an odd view Lyanna thought to herself. Here everyone is fearing or hoping for the return of a Stark like Theon Stark, she thought. And that is not what the North needs at this time.It is good to see Eddard as something more than a fierce fighter in the tiltyard.  Lyanna relaxed as Cregan sat there watching Eddard move around the tiltyard. After an hour of drills they moved on to one-on-one skirmishes where each recruit would spar against the other in an actual match to at least yielding, with Eddard acting as referee. 

A short time later during the spars, Benjen and Dacey arrived from the just past the brewery near the entrance to the ward of the Old Keep. The youthful couple had a quiver of arrows on their backs along with longbows. Lyanna saw their approach and waved them over. Shadow appears wandering behind Benjen and immediately ran ahead of Benjen and Dacey as they headed for the bleachers, as he saw Cregan lounging next to Lyanna. 

Smiling at both, Lyanna said, “Good afternoon, Benjen, Lady Dacey. And what have you two been up to?”

Dacey answered, confidantly, “Realizing just now that I met my match in archery. Benjen got almost all bullseyes.”

Benjen said, “You’re not bad either, Dacey. You’re better than Lyanna was at your age.”

Lyanna protested, “Hey!”

Benjen changed the subject rapidly, “So what’s up, Lya?”  

Lyanna sat motioned towards the titlyard as Benjen and Dacey sat down on the bleachers, Shadow seeming to relax into place next to Cregan. “Ned’s working with Ser Rodrik Cassel in training the new infantry recruits. We were going to do what you both were doing with archery but Ser Rodrik Cassel requested assistance as we were passing.”

Benjen nodded, “Better option. Father would say how you treat your soldiers will define what sort of Lord you will be.”

Lyanna stated, “Hopefully, Barbrey will get here soon. It’s the calm before the storm with Brandon’s arrival tomorrow and House Ryswell and House Bolton arrival whenever they get here. Heard they’re going to be ‘fashionably’ late.”

Benjen shook his head, “House Karstark and the Skagosi Houses will be the last to arrive. I overheard father talking with Maester Walys as I headed back to my room this morning. House Karstark’s bringing a larger than normal contingent and wants to talk with one of Lord Karstark’s Captains by the name of Theon Snow as soon as he arrives. Something’s going to happen.”

Lyanna looked at Benjen, her voice dropping, “Ned just told me what he’s going to offer House Ryswell. Father will back him on it. Did you know?”

Benjen shook his head again, “What was it?”

Lyanna said in a low voice, “He’ll marry Barbrey and give House Ryswell 70,000 gold dragons. That’s it.”

Benjen’s eyes went wide. Dacey had overheard and her eyes went wide as well. Benjen responded, “He’s going to call out House Ryswell and House Bolton isn’t he?”

Lyanna nodded to the affirmative as Dacey said, in a low voice,  “You were right, Lady Lyanna.”

Lyanna looked at Dacey who merely shrugged with a smile stating, “Calm before the storm.”

Benjen looked over at Cregan who along with Shadow seemed to be watching Lord Eddard intently. He looked back to Lyanna, “So who will be spared from House Bolton and House Ryswell?”

Lyanna looked at Benjen, “Too early to tell yet, but Barbrey’s sister Bethany and goodbrother Roose have the best chance. As for the rest of House Bolton, Ned may be looking to finish the job the Andal invasion prevented Theon Stark from doing to the Red Kings.” Cregan looked at Lyanna briefly before looking beyond her towards the west. 

At that moment, Barbrey Ryswell appeared from the west walking towards the tiltyard dressed rather formally in a black and bronze high necked gown that was very fitted. Lyanna looked as closely as she could noticing the corsetted bodice almost had the look of a cuirass on armor. Barbrey's hair was done in a very complex albeit archaic hairstyle with the sides of her hair braided very tightly running to the back with the numerous small braids from the side of her head flanking the thicker single long braid running from the back of her head. Lyanna instantly recognized the hairstyle as one they had seen in a woodcut in the library which was illustrating Ygertha Ryder, the Queen of the Rills, several centuries before the Rills were conquered by the Kings of Winter. The look Lyanna noticed was accented by the silver circlet she wore with a circular dragonglass jewel in the center of the forehead. Lyanna thought to herself, If only I had the greensight so that i may be able to witness what will happen between Barbrey and my brother in the next few hours.  Lyanna noticed Barbrey had her heavier black sable cloak with bronze colored fox fur trim held by a heavier polished steel metal clasp with a lacquered centerpiece depicting her house sigil. Barbrey waved confidently as she entered the ward looking towards where Lyanna was seated.

Lyanna saw Barbrey recognize them and begin to head over to the bleachers as Cregan seemed to get up and walked down the bleachers and began slowly stalking towards Barbrey.

Lyanna held her breath as Benjen quickly looked at Shadow, Shadow’s eyes seemed to flash as Benjen’s look of concern faded. “She’ll be okay. Shadow let me know that Cregan is relatively impatient to get back to his mate and bring her back here. I think he’s going to get Barbrey to have Ned hurry things up so he can go get her.”  Lyanna looked relieved as Dacey merely snorted. Shadow looked at Dacey and chuffed at her as she imitated the sound back at him before scratching him behind the ears.  

Lyanna watched as Barbrey was confronted by the huge direwolf becoming slightly startled, until Cregan moved as though he was herding her towards the tiltyard.  Lyanna knew Barbrey had seen similar behaviour from the dogs serving shepherds and thankfully picked up on this as she headed towards Eddard walking next to Cregan.  Lyanna also knew Cregan was large, but she got a true sense of scale as they turned at the inner fence to the tiltyard and Barbrey disappeared behind Cregan, his front shoulder being at her head’s height with Cregan’s normal gait. 

Lyanna saw Eddard walk over to Ser Rodrik Cassel and say a few words. Ser Rodrik Cassel nodded as Eddard walked towards Barbrey and Cregan. Cregan sat on his hind legs as Eddard greeted  Barbrey in a standard Lordly fashion acknowledging her Ladyship with a chaste kiss on her knuckles before the two exchanged a few words. Eddard looked at Cregan motioning for him to  move forward as he and Barbrey walked back towards the bleachers following Cregan heading North towards the ward 

Eddard shouted to Lyanna, “We’re taking Cregan to Hunter’s Gate so he can go see his mate and bring her back here.”

Lyanna could see Barbrey walking along with a slightly apprehensive look on her face as they passed and the two continued northwards talking, as they followed the giant direwolf past the archway, through which she could see the Glass Gardens the rear of the Great Keep and beyond the Guest Keep. 

Lyanna looked to Benjen and Dacey as they passed, “I don’t think we’ll see them back anytime soon. Eddard and Barbrey have a lot to talk about.”

Benjen nodded saying, “Sun’s setting soon too. Probably explains why I’m hungry. You up for hitting the kitchens for dinner with us, Lya?”

“Appetite’s not very good now after last night, but I will join you and Dacey, dear brother” said Lyanna. 

Chapter Text

Very Early Morning, 19th day, 10th Moon,  280 A.C.

Brandon Stark rode at the head of the convoy along with Ser Wendel Manderly as well as some Lords from Houses Locke, Woolfield, and Hornwood.  They saw a Manderly man-at-arms riding up from the rear, handing a message to Ser Wendel Manderly. 

“We’re stopping here,” said the large second son of Lord Wyman Manderly, as he took off his helm revealing short-cut brownish hair and the beginnings of a well groomed beard.  It appeared as though Wendel Manderly was attempting to grow his moustache longer the rest of his beard. “By the Seven, the Manderly and Hornwood wheelhouses have thrown another wheel. We shan’t be moving forward. Good place for a rest I’d say.”

Brandon Stark grumbled as he stepped down from his destrier, Midnight, and unstrapped his greatsword from the . Ser Wendel Manderly and Ser Donnel Locke stepped down from their destriers as well. Lord Halys Hornwood had already stopped his courser and pulled out a bottle of Myrish Firewine, walking over to the other three Lords’ sons. 

“Got some Myrish Firewine if anyone wants a swig to warm up,” said Halys taking a swig himself and offering it to Ser Donnel Locke who was nearest to him. Ser Donnel smoothed his inky black bear which he had begun styling to a point on his chin before taking a swig from the bottle and handing such to Ser Wendel. 

Ser Donnel figured it was time for small talk, looking to Brandon, “So Lord Brandon, heard your brother has returned. Talked to the old farmer whose land we rested at yesterday whose daughter is one of the housemaids at Castle Cerwyn. Word is Eddard Stark brought winter so to speak for a that gang of brigands that have been harassing travellers on this road recently. Killed Zakaro the Dothraki and his gang with their own weapons.”

Brandon grunted briefly as Ser Wendel took a swig after saying a short prayer to himself to the Father, Warrior, and Crone for temperance. He passed it on to Brandon who took a swig. Brandon replied in his normal boasting tone, “Heard similar actually. Pretty sure Lord Reed’s son helped him out a bit there. You know those frogeaters coat their blades with poison.”  He'd heard several stories so far regarding his brother and was skeptical. Next they'll tell me Ned's become taller than Lord Umber's heir and has the power to shoot lightning out of his arse.

Ser Donnel nodded, as Brandon passed him the bottle, “That last part is true about Crannogmen. But from my earlier discussion with Aramis, the captain of Lord Cerwyn’s guards, on the matter it’s most likely an accurate assessment of what happened. I suppose it’s good having someone like that as the Lord over the Sunset Coast. I’d be a betting man that by the time you’re Lord of the North your brother will have rid you of the Ironborn problem.”

Brandon nodded in agreement. He had assumed that Eddard may have learned some tactics and strategy from Lord Jon Arryn and the Knights after they had rescued him from his captivity. Reviewing the tactics and strategy used on their lands to surround the bases of operation for the slavers as well as those used in the various ports in the northernmost Fingers and the Sisters to intercept their fleeing ships. 

Ser Wendel finally spoke up, with a look of concern on his face,  “I’ve seen your brother, Lord Brandon. When he arrived in White Harbor, he was not the young boy who left the North. My father said he hasn’t seen such a man of that demeanor since those returning to the North after the War of the Ninepenny Kings. The lessons Lord Arryn taught him in the Vale weren’t lost as he showed every courtesy worthy of a true knight whilst in White Harbor,  but your brother is not a man to be trifled with.” 

Brandon scoffed at Ser Wendel as Donnel decided to add, “There’s something ... unnatural ... about your brother as well. We have some pretty fierce dogs at the Wolf’s Den because of it’s very nature of that place. Never seen anyone walk by the kennels and the lead dog cower in fear and the rest of them follow suit.”

Ser Wendel nodded, “We had heard a similar story from House Tollett of the Vale that whilst Eddard was healing at the Castle in Grey Glen, that the wolves in the wood were howling. When he woke up, the howling stopped.”

Ser Donnel exhaled, looking to Wendel and Brandon,  “Eddard Stark’s most likely a warg. Not surprising they’d show up eventually in House Stark given your House’s history with the Warg King's daughters after defeating him. Good thing he’s not a wild as a wildling.”

Ser Wendel agreed, “By the Seven, he is anything but a wildling or savage. As I said, whilst in White Harbor, he behaved as a knight should, albeit slightly rougher around the edges than most knights.” Ser Wendel continued albeit tangentially, “Lord Rickard Stark, your father, has big plans for the Sunset Coast. I am proud to say that House Manderly will play a major role in its development. I pray to the Seven I will be able to contribute to its success and make my father and my liege lord proud.” 

Brandon looked to Ser Wendel, "My father and I have every faith in House Manderly's dedication to the North and abilities to further develop our harbors, shipyards, and trading on the Sunset Coast."  Ser Wendel smiled at the returned complement.  Brandon was not foolish; House Manderly would be the only house who could successfully develop and manage any sizeable harbor on the Sunset Coast due to their experience with White Harbor.

Ser Donnel looked to Ser Wendel, “On that note, rumor is House Manderly’s starting a branch house in the new harbor being built at the Mouth of the Rillstone. Kind of obvious it may be true since you’re heading out to Flint’s Finger after the Betrothal Feast, Ser Wendel.”

“Whomever is declared Lord of the Mouth of the Rillstone and steward of the harbor will be up to Lord Eddard Stark,” stated Ser Wendel. “I am hopeful he will choose myself as a candidate, but it is not guaranteed. There are rumors that House Ryswell is making demands on the Sunset Coast as far as who will be placed in key positions for the ruling castles at Sea Dragon’s Point, Grey Harbor, and the developing Rillstone Harbor. Your dishonoring of your own betrothal, Lord Brandon, along with breaking one for House Dustin, Lord Brandon, was unwise and put your father and both of your brothers in a precarious position as far as developments within the North.”

Brandon protested, “Dishonoring a betrothal? Frankly if I had my way I would never have signed up for marrying that trout. She's one of the most inflexible Andals I've ever met.”  Brandon thought for a moment, "Well her younger sister is worse, but nevertheless, she'll have me chopping down the Godswood to make way for the construction of a Great Sept."

Ser Wendel stated, "As a man of the Faith of the Seven, I'm fairly sure that the High Septon in the Starry Sept would not approve of such being done. At any rate..."

Lord Halys Hornwood interrupted, "At any rate, you could have suggested a Northern bride prior to going down to Riverrun with your father. I'm pretty sure Lord Tully wouldn't break a betrothal for an alliance if he's on the level."

Brandon cursed himself for not jumping on that sooner. His complacency and his apparent need to be able to fill his appetites and not be tied down seem to have had that effect as well. Rickard had wanted to betroth him to Lord Justan Flint's daughter back when he was a little older than Benjen and he refused, not wanting to be tied down, as at the time he had just discovered the fun he could have with members of the fairer sex.  Brandon was almost six and ten when his father told him about the impending betrothal to Catelyn. They had a discussion about the matter and his request for Barbrey was refused. Rickard had suggested Bethany being the eldest daughter but he wanted Barbrey. The second daughter of a Vassal House which has naught to offer but horses to a Lord Paramount's heir? Be realistic Brandon, Lord Rickard Stark had told him. He'd always wanted her and he felt the feeling was mutual.  But the discussion was ended by his father. You are my heir and will be the Lord Paramount of the North when I'm gone, he remembered his father had said. This alliance will ensure stability in the Seven Kingdoms and less obstacles for advancement for the North.  Ser Donnel echoed his very thoughts in response to Halys.

Ser Donnel scoffed, "Not necessarily, Lord Halys. The Riverlands is about as united as a herd of mousers in a barn. Lord Tully's wanted an alliance of this nature to ensure his House's Paramount status. It's already known that the borders are shifting with the rumors of the daughters of House Charlton wedding the two sons of House Blackmyre, and the old Weasel of the Crossing has his hackles up over that. "

Brandon chuckled darkly, 'Lord Walder Frey. Don't get me started on him."  He paused for a moment, "Lord Halys is right in that aspect. The Old Weasel will behave for lack of a better word if he's got the threat of the North hanging over him in addition to House Tully if he steps out of line. And the Riverlands tearing itself apart isn't going to be good for the North as the Crannogmen would essentially have their hands full being on the borders. The only thing I see that we got out of the deal was open trade with Seagard from the Sunset Coast."

Ser Wendel interjected, "Remember also that all of the Lords Paramount currently sitting were united in defense of the realm during the War of the Ninepenny Kings. Their camaraderie goes that far back. With the situation with the Crown, it is necessary for ... "

Brandon nodded, "Oh I get it. I don't have to like it, but I'd like to be betrothed to a lady more worthy of being the Lady of Winterfell."

Donnel shrugged, “Not sure Lady Catelyn Tully’s not unworthy, Brandon. She is a Lord Paramount’s eldest daughter. She’s also apparently taken care of Riverrun in her late mother’s stead after her death, so she knows how to manage a large household at least. I’ve heard she’s quite beautiful as well with hair kissed by fire.”  Donnel looked at Brandon, “Not too many eligible daughters of the Lords of the North around your age anyways. They’re all already betrothed or married or just too fucking young.”  Brandon knew Donnel wasn’t as brazen as to mention the fact that the two age appropriate for Brandon who were also from the level of House appropriate for a Stark betrothal, Bethany Ryswell and Unella Flint, were already married and betrothed as an indirect result of Brandon’s indiscretions with Barbrey Ryswell.  

Ser Donnel said,  “As I said before, Lord Brandon, you should have made your intentions known to your father before ...”

The slightly older Halys laughed scoffingly, “It’s a moot point anyways, Ser Donnel.” Halys turned to Lord Brandon, “From what I hear, the bride you say your younger brother stole from you wants to geld you in the same manner they do with some of the stallions in her father’s herd who are to be given to ladies and Southron lords not capable of breaking a normal stallion. Those Ryswells know their horses, so she probably would be able to do the job herself.” 

Brandon seemed to get his wolfsblood up and threw a light punch at Halys’ arm, looking to begin a fight. Ser Donnel and Ser Wendel stepped in between the two men, as Brandon said, “Hornwood, Don't you ever....”

Lord Halys Hornwood relented,  “Okay, Okay, Lord Stark, but this much is true: Barbrey Ryswell has no love for you after what you did, getting her with child then running off on her. Besides, do you think your father a Lord Paramount’s going to break an agreement with another Lord Paramount over what his eldest son wants in the moment?  With all due respect, Lord Brandon Stark, use your fucking head for once.”

Donnel put his hand on the Hornwood heir’s shoulder pulling him back as Brandon’s hackles were still up.  Lord Halys continued however, "None of us get to choose who we were betrothed and married to.  No offense Ser Wendel, but I was not fond of your aunt Donnella when I was betrothed to her."

Ser Wendel nodded, "None taken, Lord Halys."

"But the marriage brought an alliance between House Hornwood and House Manderly such that we were able to better get goods into the lands of the Hornwood at the same time be able to export our goods from our lands out as well. We defend each other's borders as well. As far as Donnella, I grew to love her after a time." 

Lord Halys smiles briefly, "And as a man who worships the Old Gods who married a woman who followed the Faith of the Seven, it can work. It requires work and compromise, something you'll need to learn how to do, Lord Brandon."

Brandon looked to Lord Halys thoughtfully, "Was Lady Donnella ever inflexible about certain things such as ... "

Lord Halys queried, "Like what?"

Brandon stated, "When I was down at Riverrun she seemed to assume that she could bend the North to fit her sensibilities rather than the other way around. And her ideas on bastards and certain other customs of the North seemed rather rigid and incompatible with ... “

Ser Wendel leaned forward, “My lord. A bit of advice from someone who is a follower of the Faith of the Seven and is familiar with the various sects within the Faith.  House Tully belongs to the sect common around the Westerlands and Riverlands which has very strict teachings on various subjects. These go beyond those directly addressed in the scriptures of the Seven Pointed Star. They view greensight as witchcraft, rather than one of the 'mysteries of the North' as my sect believes. Imagine what she would think of a warg? Both of your brothers are wargs. Trust me you are in a better position to handle Lady Catelyn as wife than your brothers Eddard or Benjen on that aspect alone .”

"But I worship the Old Gods..."

Ser Wendel offered, "I'm sure my father will be able to arrange with your father to have a Sept built in Wintertown as well as a Septon and appropriate Septa assigned from the Diocese in White Harbor to accomodate the future Lady of Winterfell's matters of Faith. Remember what Lord Halys said....work and compromise. "

Brandon looked at Ser Wendel, "Sounds like you wish to marry her."

Ser Wendel states, "I should only be so blessed, Lord Brandon. The alliance is between House Stark and House Tully and the betrothal is part of that alliance. Besides as, Lord Halys had said, you have already broken one betrothal and created a fracture in the alliances holding the North together. The repercussions of breaking your betrothal with Lady Catelyn Tully will be the violation of an alliance between two kingdoms. No one in their right mind from the North or the Riverlands would wish to face the fallout from a broken alliance between the two."

Brandon nodded. Last thing anyone needs is a war. We’re not ready yet, not whilst the Sunset Coast and Moat Caillin is unfinished and it’s still Winter so we have not yet began to plant in the farmlands of Achyldenloch. 

Lord Halys added, “We would not be speaking our minds as such, if we did not support you, as not only our Liege Lord’s son and heir, but as a friend. If you have an unhappy marriage with the Lady of Winterfell, the North will suffer.”

“I have a feeling I will need to call upon both Lord Hornwood and Ser Manderly for future advice with my betrothed then,” said Brandon relenting.

“Aye and along with that. Forget about any pursuits of the Ryswell woman,” said Lord Halys, in his deep voice normally jovial but this time full of serious honesty. “For Barbrey Ryswell will be your brother Eddard’s wife and thus his concern. Learn to respect Lady Catelyn and cherish her as your wife, guiding her towards being the Lady of Winterfell the North needs. In time, you will grow to love her as I have grown to love Donella. Think on the sons and daughters she will bring you, and you will move on from your  past mistakes.”

Ser Donnel added, “Lady Barbrey Ryswell will be your brother Eddard’s wife and in time her biggest concerns will be for her own family with your brother Eddard in the Castle of Sea Dragon’s Point.“

Brandon nodded, thinking to himself. They’re right. 

Lord Halys added, "And as far as your brother Eddard, the experiences he's had as well as his strengths and the abilities gifted to him by the Old Gods can be a valuable...."

Brandon scoffed again at Lord Halys, cutting him off, “Regardless of his abilities, natural or otherwise, I am the elder brother. He will learn to respect me and follow my orders as his liege when the time comes.”

Lord Halys stated, “He will. But remember, he’s your blood. Remember that first and foremost. I know your father, Lord Rickard Stark, will remind the both of you of that as well.”

Brandon grumbled slightly and took a large swig out of the Myrish Firewine as the bottle rounded its way to him. Brandon had a few thoughts about having things both ways and intended to pursue them. Why couldn't we be like the Dornish, said Brandon. I could marry Catelyn and keep Barbrey as a paramour. Moving on is easier said than done.   "Aye, Lord Halys,” sighed Brandon in manner expressing he could broach no argument to Lord Halys Hornwood’s statements, “Aye.” 

A runner came from the convoy delivering a message to Ser Wendel. The second son of Wyman Manderly smiled, “Wheelhouses are repaired and we will be embarking. I estimate we should reach Winterfell slightly behind schedule, a little after mid-day to sunset.”

“Aye, let’s move out for Winterfell,” said Brandon Stark.  Eddard is my blood but I feel a reminder of who is the heir to the Lord of Winterfell, Lord Paramount of the North and the Kings of Winter.

Chapter Text

Morning, 20th day, 10th Moon,  280 A.C. 

Roose Bolton finished shaving his face preferring to remain clean shaven as he walked over to look out the window of his chambers. Roose knew he was a Bolton, heir to the Red Kings. He took his house’s words to heart. Our Blades Are Sharp. What he however could not agree with was his father and uncles’ interpretations on what it meant to be a Bolton. 

Rogar Bolton’s idea of working towards the betterment of House Bolton and their holdings was bringing down other houses and usurping their holdings after they had been destroyed root and stem. His uncles Royce and Elmar gladly went along with their brothers’ commands as it would make them richer as well as feeding their baser desires at the same time. This happened with House Condon five years back. 

Barely fifteen Roose was betrothed to Elspeth Condon. Lord Cley Condon had betrothed his daughter to his overlord Rogar Bolton’s son in the hopes that the relationship would be beneficial to House Condon and would allow them gain the capital to expand their sheep herding operations.  Cley had signed a regency agreement with Rogar Bolton for his son to foster with his brother Elmar as Royce Bolton asssisted with operations in Castle Condon. Within a year, Edwyle Condon’s skin was adorning the cellar of Elmar’s holdfast, and Royce Bolton had usurped Castle Condon removing all of House Condon from this plane of existence. 

Roose had fallen in love with Elspeth. Despite his father claiming first night and keeping her as a hostage, Roose spent whatever free time he had with the woman whom he had taken vows with under the Heart Tree of the Dreadfort. The feeling had been mutual despite the circumstances for Elspeth.  In 277AC, Roose found out Elspeth was with his child. Excited he told his father.

Instead of being happy at the fact that his eldest was siring an heir, Rogar Bolton forced Elspeth to drink Moon Tea before she disappeared into the dungeons of the Dreadfort. Four moons later, Rogar brought Roose down to the dungeons of the Dreadfort to see Elspeth, limbless and flayed, her lidless eyes staring upwards from the X shaped mount she had been fastened to, unable to blink. If she still had her tongue or lips to form words, she would be too weak to vocalise any pleas for mercy.  Roose held his face expressionless lest father see him upset or angry. Rogar had said in his hissing voice, “This is the price of your disobedience to me. I’ve told you a Bolton does not love, we merely take what is ours for the taking.”

Roose cringed at the statement, earning his father chopping off the smallest finger on his weak hand for that response.  Roose remembered stating  defiantly, “So we are like the Ironborn now? We do not sow?”  

Rogar Bolton was attempting the same he had thought with House Ryswell, when he was suddenly betrothed to Bethany Ryswell and then married.  But this was not the case. 

Lord Rodrick Ryswell was angered beyond reason when his second daughter had laid with Brandon Stark, finding out such when Brandon’s sister Lyanna and her elder sister Bethany were caught lifting the ingredients for Moon Tea from her father’s maester’s apothecary. This essentially broke the betrothal and alliance between House Dustin and House Ryswell. Rodrick Ryswell was looking to pressure House Stark into paying through the nose and essentially giving him control of the Sunset Coast if Brandon would not be marrying Barbrey Ryswell and making her Lady Paramount of the North.  Rodrick Ryswell naively approached Rogar Bolton for assistance, and Rogar drew up Regency Contracts. Roose could already see his father’s plan once he took a look at the contracts his father was sending to House Ryswell as well as the correspondence between his uncles and his father as well as those to House Ryswell. 

Rogar’s idea was was for House Bolton to gain control of Stark holdings on the Sunset Coast through House Ryswell. Eddard becoming the Lord of Sea Dragon’s point was the lynchpin as the Benjen was too young for Barbrey and would most likely marry someone from House Glover or one of their vassal houses. Eddard once he resurfaced was going to be made as the Lord of Sea Dragon’s Point and a betrothal to Barbrey Ryswell was demanded.  Rogar’s plan was to have Rodrick Ryswell demand that his son Rickard Ryswell be made Castellan. Given the boy’s young age, his regent Royce Bolton would be Castellan to keep Eddard in line. Once Barbrey Ryswell gave Eddard an heir, Royce would arrange for Eddard to meet with an accident, House Bolton would then begin taking over the Sunset Coast with Eddard’s heir as a puppet essentially.

Rogar knew Eddard was a meek boy and most likely his fostering in the Vale made him a weak Southron and his rescue from captivity by the Knights of the Vale made Rogar assume that Eddard was even more of an easy target, given how his own hunting dogs had been beaten into submission and obedience. His plan might work if Eddard was indeed such. 

Roose knew his father was making a grave mistake however. Whispers came regarding Eddard Stark not being who his father had assumed him to be. 

First, there came the story of the fate of Zakaro the Dothraki and his band of brigands, killed with their own weapons by a traveler who had Stark features and  a young Crannogman, later words coming confirming Zakaro the Dothraki met his demise at the hands of  Eddard Stark and Howland Reed. 

Second, there was the Riverlander lord’s son and his squires who met with a hunting accident in the Wolfswood. There had been rumors going on for at least a fortnight that direwolves had been spotted in the Wolfswood. Roose found a raven in his father’s solar from Lord Jason Terrick confirming he’d be sending his son and his squires to hunt for pelt to send as a message to House Stark during the Winter Gathering of the Lords. The next raven was from Lord Terrick demanding compensation for the death of his second son Addam and two of the old Weasel’s sons’ bastards. Rumors had it they were executed by the direwolves themselves due to the intact state of the bodies and the fact they were found in the middle of a weirwood grove. It was already becoming well known that Eddard Stark was a warg as was his youngest sibling, Benjen Stark.

Third, word had just came this morning of events within Winterfell and around the Wolfswood which had happened almost two days previous. The stories seemed varied but a group of large direwolves were seen entering Winterfell following Eddard Stark and Howland Reed from the Wolfswood to Winterfell. More direwolves and wolves were spotted  at the treeline observing. It was noted by more than one source that the direwolves following Eddard Stark were not following as obedient hunting dogs or tamed wolves would do. They were described as carrying themselves as bannermen would carry themselves when following their liege into a castle.

Roose had realized that if House Bolton went up against Lord Eddard Stark they would lose miserably. Rogar however refused to let Roose and his wife Bethany accompany them to the Winter Gathering of the Lords and left his brother Elmar in charge of the Dreadfort while he was in Winterfell. 

Roose stepped away from the window and headed down to the great hall. He found himself disgusted slightly at the intentional luridness of the Great Hall of the Dreadfort with the usage of human hands as sconces for the torches in the hall to the intentionally blackened stone. Rogar had even brought some of the preserved flayed skins of old enemies to display in the Great Hall.  

Elmar Bolton stood in the middle of the room. The only thing defining Elmar as a Bolton was his eyes, both small and closely set, the color of two chips of dirty ice. He was otherwise resemblant of a painting Roose would see a decade later whilst touring the Rillstone Harbor Sept upon its opening. The painting depicted the Seven Deadly Demons representing the Seven Vices. Elmar in particular resembled the Demon Qupēgrieqryldes , the demon of gluttony and greed.  Elmar was rather large man who looked like he did not exactly starve during winter. His skin was blotchy and he flesh around his head and face drooped giving him almost a half-melted look. Elmar’s was clean shaven and his head was shaved bald as well.  As Roose entered the room, Elmar addressed him, half slobbering as he spoke.

“I see you grace us with your presence,” said Elmar, half-spitting, “We received a raven from your father and your uncle Royce this morning. They are a days' march from Winterfell.”

Roose responded in his normal tenor voice which was oddly thin and hollow sounding. His small and soft voice was the end result of healing from a punishment which left him almost mute until he was four and ten with half of a tongue. He could raise his voice for commands with some effort as his larynx had healed. “I and my Lady should be in the party heading to Winterfell for the Winter Gathering.”

“Oh, can’t have that, Young Lord Roose,” said Elmar, licking his half-melted lips. “We’ll own the Sunset Coast in a fortnight. I’ll own that new harbor and I’ll be able to ... “

Roose interrupted, “Not bloody likely. What else did Father’s raven say?”

“Nothing of import really,” said Elmar. “House Karstark sent a raven that their Convoy along with the Skagosi will be cutting across our land due the Dreadfort being in a direct path between Karhold and Winterfell.” 

Roose noted that Elmar is an idiot if he believed that. The most navigable route for a convoy from Karhold to Winterfell crosses last river at the fords just north of Auroch’s Lake then along the Last River along the borders between Bolton and Umber lands until they hit the Kingsroad just north of Long Lake, then straight south along the Kingsroad to Winterfell.  There was most likely a siege party being sent or at least scouts to report to Winterfell.  Roose guessed the former since House Manderly was definitely well allied with the Karstarks through their Stark kin and had the Naval reserves to transport troops.  “Are we prepared to endure a siege, Elmar?” 

“Why would we be under siege, “ responded Elmar. “We don’t have any hostages of import to House Karstark or the Skaggs or...and House Ryswell will not go back on their agreement ... “ Elmar motioned towards Bethany seated at the high table with a dazed look on her face. It was a look of paralyzed fear. He looked at Bethany’s eyes and saw the same expression he saw on Elspeth’s face before she disappeared into the dungeons to be flayed and tortured.

Roose was silent as he looked at Bethany and then looked at Elmar, “Your father said it is my turn this time by the way. Although your father began, he promised to let me finish.” Elmar looked at Roose with an almost childlike grin as if he had been given a piece of candy by an adult for being good. Roose knew what Elmar meant and steeled himself. 

Roose said flatly, “House Stark is about to come down on House Bolton like a hammer to an anvil.  House Karstark are their kin and the quickest route to Winterfell comes nowhere near the Dreadfort.” 

Elmar said, “That’s impossible.” 

Roose steeled himself looking to Elmar, “We’ll need to fetch the maester. I wish to send a Raven to father.”  He added deceptively, “I wish to apprise father of the  potential situation.”  Elmar nodded and sent two of the guards who were in the room.  

The aging Maester Vorian returned with his quills and pens and sat at the high table. The elderly maester looked slightly nervous as Roose paced the floor oddly confident, “Maester Vorian, a question before we begin. According to Northern Law, when a Lord is away from his Castle, who does the Lordship fall upon?”

“Well if there are no heirs, the next of kin of the Lord or the Castellan,” replied the Maester. 

“In the case of heirs, Maester Vorian?” said Roose in his soft voice. 

“The heir or his regent depending the heir’s age,” replied Maester Vorian, looking at Elmar briefly. 

Elmar looked at Roose very curiously, as Roose paced around the room with his arms folded behind his back. Elmar said, “Well I was named your Regent, Roose, so....”

“What is the age of majority by Northen Law and the accepted laws of the Seven Kingdoms,” asked Roose looking towards Maester Vorian. 

“Well, it varies by kingdom. Dorne seems to have a later age of seven and ten but that seems to be based on the fact that their inheritance laws include both genders as being heirs, “ replied Maester Vorian, seemingly more at ease at Roose being more academic in the discussion. “But the generally accepted age is six and ten.”

“Thank you, Maester Vorian,” said Roose, looking at the ten guards within the room, some of whom who were beginning to realize what was happening. “How old am I?”

Maester Vorian looked to Elmar. Elmar stated, “Don’t go down this road, Roose. Your father will...”

“Will what?” asked Roose of his uncle, who was now showing slight agitation. Roose looked at Maester Vorian, “You may answer the question, Maester Vorian. You are fulfilling your vows by answering my questions.”

“Twenty namedays, Lord Roose Bolton,” said Maester Vorian. “You will be one and twenty in two fortnights, actually.”

Roose smiled slightly, “Thank you, Maester Vorian.”  He resumed his pacing around the room, “Now that we have established that I am Lord of this Castle, we are most likely about to face a siege very soon.”  Roose pointed to two guards closest to the exit to the main courtyard of the Dreadfort, “You two. Go to the Captain of the Guards and tell him that I am suspecting a siege may happen soon on the Dreadfort  and we will need to begin preparations immediately with all of the soldiers who haven’t left with my father at their posts before sunset. Also send Steelshanks up here along with Captain of the Guards.”  

The two guards nodded and exited swiftly, both saying in unison , “Yes, My Lord Bolton.” 

Roose approached the two guards closest to him, and said quietly to both, “You will guard Lady Bolton with your lives. No one will touch or approach her save for myself and Maester Vorian. Now heed your Lord’s command.”  Both guards rushed into place next to Bethany who donned more of a look of confusion as her fearful look seemed to wane. 

Roose walked over towards Elmar, “Uncle, we cannot continue down this path my father has set us upon if we wish House Bolton to continue to thrive. I have been witness to several crimes of yourself, my father and my uncle Royce against the Old Gods as well as men and it cannot continue.”

Elmar looked at Roose with contempt spitting at him as he lumbered forward towards Roose. “What gives you the right to ___”  Elmar suddenly stopped speaking as he was almost on top of Roose. 

Roose had pulled two of his flaying knives out of the sleeves of his tunic rather quickly, stabbing one perfectly through Elmar’s sternum into his heart and the other into his throat. Roose left the blades in as Elmar was paralyzed with shock and a little fear. Roose knew his blades would not kill Elmar until he removed the blades. Roose motioned to the remaining guards, “Take him to the Godswood. Do not remove the knives. I will join you momentarily.”

The guards complied with four of them efficiently carrying Elmar out of the Great Hall down the stairs to the courtyard towards the small grove near the Eastern Wall where the Heart Tree was. The remaining two guards cleared the path for the four to make their way through with Elmar. 

Roose then turned to Maester Vorian, “Please give Lady Bethany Bolton, my wife, an thorough examination. I want to know what Elmar has done to her as well as what my father had done to her before his departure. Her health and well-being is Paramount as she is at this moment Lady of the Dreadfort, not a prisoner or hostage, so treat her as such. Understood.” 

Maester Vorian rose as Roose walked to Bethany offering his hand to help her up. “Go with Maester Vorian. We will talk later...much more than we have since we said our vows...” He turned to the two guards, “Do your duty in defending  the Lady of the Dreadfort.”

The guards nodded as they escorted Bethany behind Maester Vorian out the door. Walton also known as ‘Steelshanks’ entered the Great Hall behind the Captain of the Guards Doggerel. 

Roose looked first to the Doggerel, “We’re about to be under siege most likely by sunset or by tomorrow at the latest. We’ll need to have the bowmen in their proper positions as well as anti-siege measures along with the troops who are manning such. Lockdown the gates immediately.  I’ll worry about the other preparations with the Steward after I ...  deal with a matter of a Lord’s Justice. “ 

Roose then looked to Steelshanks, “I need you to take about seven men and scout the approaches from the North and Northeast. I want to know what we’re facing coming from Karhold.”  Both Doggerel and Steeshanks nodded and set about their duties as Roose walked into the lower courtyard towards Dreadfort’s Godswood.

When he arrived he found the guards standing around Elmar dutifully as Elmar was kneeling in front of the Heart Tree with his back to the tree. Elmar was still delirious in shock as Roose stepped forward.

“Bring him to his feet, “said Roose as two of the nearest guards complied and stood Elmar up. Roose then proceeded to put his hands on the handles of his flaying knives still embedded in Elmar’s sternum and throat. “As Lord of House Bolton and the Dreadfort, I sentence you Elmar Bolton to death for the deaths of Cley Condon and the members of House Condon as well as being an accomplice to the murder of Elspeth Bolton.”  Roose paused his voice waivering slightly, “And the torture of Lady Bethany Bolton.”  In one motion, Roose Bolton pulled both flaying knives out and sliced into the sides of Elmar Bolton’s flabby neck hitting both arteries. The two closest guards stepped to the side as Elmar fell forward bleeding onto the Heart Tree, an execution and a sacrifice to the Old Gods. Roose knew the execution was justified by Northern Law and as a Lord he was duty bound to carry out the sentence; however it also required a sacrifice to appease the Old Gods as he wanted to avoid the curse of being a kinslayer.  Roose knelt in prayer putting his hand on the heart tree as his guards bowed their heads respectfully. 

The hours went by as the Dreadfort went from quiet to a bustling of acivity as all the household, both staff and army, prepared the castle for the upcoming siege. By mid afternoon, Doggerel approached Roose who was donning black ringmail, being assisted by one of the older guards’ sons. He had begun to don his red-spotted pale pink cloak trimmed with white rabbit fur as Doggerel said, “We’re ready on all the ramparts. We’ve dug the wells in the courtyard and the steward informed me to tell you we should be well prepared for an eight moon siege.”

“Hopefully it won’t last that long,” responded Roose Bolton. “Good work, Captain Doggerel. I’m going to go to the maester’s chambers to check on Lady Bolton. Inform me the moment Steelshanks returns. ”

Doggerel nodded as he departed. Roose headed towards the Maester’s Chambers. Maester Vorian rose as Roose entered. “How is she?” asked Roose in a calm, slightly weary voice. 

“I am sorry to say that your father and Elmar had begun some ... rather precise but ... “ Maester Vorian paused, rather uneasy. 

“Suffice it to say that these practices will not be performed in the Dreadfort, unless in the service of the North with good reason upon our enemies during wartime or other times of strife,” stated Roose Bolton. “Our Blades are Sharp, our house words, do not mean we flay for pleasure. It is a last resort reserved for enemies of our House and of the North, not the innocent or defenseless.”  Roose Bolton’s voice seemed to show slight anger, “Least of all against those who by the laws of the Old Gods have gained the name Bolton through marriage. Royce Redarm may have disemboweled the prisoners of his enemies with his bare hands after flaying them, but his Red Queen was sacred to him.”  Roose paused briefly, “Please Maester Vorian, let your Lord know the state of his lady.”

Maester Vorian continued, “The good news is she is healthy and undamaged on almost all of her body. No evidence of flaying but...she had the same procedure done to her that your father had done to you at four and ten. However, there is a possibility she may not recover like you were able to. Lady Bolton may have been rendered mute.”

Maester Vorian then continued, “I had her guards return her to her chambers after making her as comfortable as I could. She is there now.”  Maester Vorian paused again for a moment as if in a thoughtful moment, “I would recommend that you go to her now as she well need someone familiar who will comfort her to help her heal, both in body and spirit.”

Roose nodded, “I will do that.” he said leaving the Maester’s chambers. 

Roose walked down the hallway to the northeast tower, up some stairs and over until he reached the Lady’s Chambers. He nodded to the two guards, whom he charged with Bethany’s protection earlier, as he entered her chambers slowly.  

Bethany was standing in the middle of the room, just staring out of the window which faced North, as Roose approached cautiously.

Roose was at a loss for words, "I ... know that it may be difficult for you ... regarding what you had to endure..." He put his hand on her shoulder as he seemed to be at a loss for words. Bethany's hand went to his own as she turned around, embracing Roose in an embrace indicating she did seek some comfort and reassurance.  They stood there for until the sun reached setting as Roose noticed the sheer number of torchlights in the distance to the North. 

It was around this time which a knock came on the door. Roose answered, "I am with the Lady Bolton. Is this important?"

"Steelshanks has returned, Lord Bolton," came the voice from the other side.

"I have to go, Bethany," Roose said as he looked into her eyes. They were red from tears and he noticed that his ringmail was slightly wet near where her head was resting.  "I will be back as soon as I can."

Bethany nodded, cracking a slight smile. She attempted to mouth some words and speak but her face showed some frustration.  Roose could make out what she may have said responding, "I will hurry back my love." Roose kissed her on the forehead and lingered for a moment saying softly, "Elmar may have taken your voice but no one can silence you."  Bethany nodded as they looked into each other's eyes. Bethany broke the embrace and slowly encouraged Roose to go do what he needed to do, mouthing I'll be okay. Go defend the castle.

Roose arrived down in the courtyard and greeted Steelshanks and Doggerel who were discussing the situation already. "How many?" he asked.

"Nearest we count between 4000 and 6000," said Steelshanks.  "And they've surrounded the Dreadfort on all sides. We've counted at least four trebuchets on each side. My men have noted that they have at least 500 heavy horse."

Roose stated, "I didn't think the Karstarks had that many ... "

Steelshanks interrupted, "Forgive me Lord Bolton but I don't think they're the Karstarks. Their banners were different. Half of them were the Bastard Variant of House Stark's sigil. The other ... I'm unfamiliar with the sigil."

Roose asked, "What did the the sigil look like?"

Steelshanks responded, "A wreath of winter roses surrounded by a ring of Runes in Old Tongue with the Runes for M H and S in the center."

Roose softly stated, "Mentyr hen Sīmontan."

Steelshanks and Doggerel looked confused slightly as Roose Bolton said bluntly, "The descendants of Brandon Snow, Torrhen Stark's bastard brother, the Company of the Rose." Roose thought for a moment, "My father's convoy won't arrive in Winterfell for another day. If my hunch is correct, they're receiving orders by Raven from Winterfell and knowing Lord Rickard Stark he's not going to commit without a reason. At dawn, send a messenger out to deliver a message requesting a parley. I'd like to see how deep we're in."

Chapter Text

Afternoon, 18th day, 10th Moon,  280 A.C.

Barbrey soaked in the tub in her future goodsister’s room. The hot water brought from the springs assisted in easing the discomfort from the aftereffects of too much of that Runceford Strongwine from the liquor cabinet in Lord Rickard Stark’s solar. Barbrey knew however the reason she drank so much after it was just her and Lyanna. She knew what had driven her to drink more than her fill was the revelation last night that had broken her heart even more than it had been broken.  

Brandon had already broken her heart by failing to tell her about his betrothal until the day he was leaving the Rills over a year previous. Any attempt to contact him had been met with no response or discouraging words from Winterfell for that first moon after. By the second moon she had realized she had missed her moonblood and confided in Bethany. Lyanna had overheard and was willing to assist after cursing her brother rather angrily. Bethany and Lyanna had obtained the ingredients for Moon Tea from the maester’s apothecary cabinet. She took the Moon Tea and it was early enough that she would not feel any of the more harmful side effects of the abortifacient. 

This would have been the end of the troubles, Barbrey surmised thinking back on the events. But that wasn’t the case. Her oldest brother Roger wasn’t mad at Lyanna for turning down his advances, noting that she had just been betrothed to Robert Baratheon.  He caught Bethany and Lyanna sneaking the ingredients for the mixture, and thought it was for Lyanna who he had seen too friendly for his tastes with an older man. The older man was just happened to be Ser Rodrik Cassel who happened to have been been delivering Lyanna’s two bows,  her short sword, and a set of daggers, en route to Grey Harbor to assess the needs of the armory there with Lord Slate. Roger witnessed Lyanna’s hug and kiss on the cheek of the Master-at-Arms of Winterfell and reported everything to his father. The misunderstanding was cleared up with Lyanna, but the truth behind their lifting of the various medicinal herbs and potions from the maester’s apothecary cabinet was soon revealed.   

Lord Rodrick Ryswell had just signed a betrothal agreement with the Lord of the Barrows for betrothal to his son Willam. The revelation that Brandon Stark had taken her maidenhead threw her father into a rage and he headed immediately to Barrowton and then headed immediately for Winterfell. She had heard that House Dustin had settled with House Stark for 50,000 gold dragons (an unheard of sum in their part of the North given that was twice as large as her own family’s total coffers)  and Willam Dustin gained a betrothal to Unella Flint, binding House Stark, House Dustin and House Flint in a triangular alliance. Lord Rodrick Ryswell initially turned down the offer of 50,000 gold dragons and reduction in taxes from export of his horses to the Vale through White Harbor, agreed to by House Manderly. Bethany and Babrey both were surprised by this as this would have been a major boon to House Ryswell as it was known that House Corbray, House Bellmore and House Tollett had shown an interest in their destriers and coursers. When Barbrey asked her father what he was holding out for, her father told her to not ask about things that don’t concern her. Typical Rodrick Ryswell : underestimates his daughters’ intelligence  and overestimates his own power in the North, she had thought at the time. Barbrey did not realize how accurate she was with that thought.

Three moons after the initial negotiations, her sister Bethany was betrothed to Roose Bolton and married a mere two moons later at the Dreadfort. Her father came back with an odd smile on his face, claiming that his price for fealty will be Sea Dragon’s Point and Rillstone Harbor. It was an irrational demand but oftentimes Lords will ask for such when they have felt they have been slighted. Her father’s price was basically what he viewed to be development projects which were House Stark’s future. She knew better that the North’s future depended on such, and had expressed such to him.  Rodrick Ryswell did not listen instead insisting House Bolton would help him attain this. When Eddard Stark had resurfaced, Rodrick Ryswell immediately demanded Lord Eddard Stark be made Lord of Sea Dragon’s Point and betrothed to Barbrey. She had not read the demands in the Vassal house contract put there by her father, but assumed Rogar Bolton may have dictated most of the conditions involving powerful positions within the major castles.

Lyanna told her about the rumors of what happened to House Condon and Roose’s first wife Elspeth many moons before. By the time Lyanna and Barbrey headed to Winterfell, she had not seen her sister since her marriage to Roose Bolton over a year ago and was worried that her sister and her house would meet the same fate as Elspeth Condon and her own motherhouse.   

Over the past few days, Barbrey remained quite whilst in Winterfell, getting to knowher future goodfamily and their household. She was not prepared for the rumors and gossip which she would overhear. House Stark seemed well aware of House Ryswell’s plans on the Vassal House Agreement and the Betrothal Agreement. Lord Eddard Stark’s return seemed to be one of the focal points of the rumors of the possible fate of her motherhouse as well as House Bolton.  

Eddard Stark was not the meek quiet young man her father and Lord Bolton were counting on. Barbrey began to get more of a sense of who Eddard Stark was by her description of him and of the events related to them before Benjen arrived. Lady Maege Mormont, despite being animated and rather entertaining in her relaying of events was not a woman to exaggerate.  One sentence kept going over and over in her mind : I don’t know if that was your brother Eddard, Lyanna, but the man definitely looked like a Stark, but not Stark like your brother Brandon. He was the spitting image of the older statues from deep within Winterfell’s crypts. If that is your brother who brought a pack of direwolves into the Godswood, I daresay the Old Gods brought your brother back to us like one of the Starks of Old, the Kings of Winter.  

Barbrey shivered at the thought. If Eddard was Theon Stark come again, Rogar Bolton was not anything like his namesake of Rogar the Huntsman, and there would be no Andal Invasion to interrupt that House’s demise. She also knew the history of the Houses and Kings of the Rills. House Ryswell was the last house standing after the Rills Rebellion with the more powerful House Ryder fading into the pages of history to be, but a footnote. Barbrey remembered being lost in this fear of her soon-to-be betrothed until her entire world came crashing down around her as her heart broke even more at the mention of the little girl Ros.

Lyanna, into her cups as much as Maege was, let out pretty much the worst kept secret in Winterfell. Apparently the day he returned from the Rills, Brandon decided to bed a wench named Bronwyn who worked at the Smoking Log Inn, Nine moons later a baby girl with hair kissed by fire with eyes the exact shade of grey as Brandon’s eyes was born. The owner of the Smoking Log Inn made a deal with apparently the steward of Winterfell and some other higher ups in the household to give Bronwyn less visible employment. This was to keep Ros hidden. Given the father was a lord who was betrothed to a Riverlander lady - whose beliefs viewed bastards as an affront to the faithful and evil beings who would shame Lords and Ladies if in their presence - there was a need for this sort of arrangement.  Barbrey felt for the woman as well as her daughters’ plight. Her heart broke even further as she realized that Ros would have been the half-sister to her own bastard by Brandon had she not been a Lord’s daughter with access to Moon Tea. 

Barbrey drank three full cups of strongwine after hearing that and remained relatively quiet throughout the evening, keeping her rage and hurt internalized the rest of the evening, responding only for one more cup when her future goodbrother Benjen had arrived.  When everyone left and it was just her and Lyanna, she finally let go breaking into tears before downing another final cup. Lyanna, who was anything but sober herself, had to almost carry the severely inebriated Barbrey back. Hearing about Bronwyn and her daughter Ros was the nail in the coffin for any love Barbrey had for Brandon Stark. It broke her heart that he took her love for granted that he would lay with another woman so soon after he had been with her. 

Barbrey still soaking in the tub gripped the sides in anger at Brandon for her heartbreak and in fear of not measuring up for Eddard until her knuckles were almost white. Until she heard the voice of reason, her foster sister, echo in her head:  It’s best you get to know Eddard before Brandon arrives.  She ducked her head into the water, getting her hair wet, and then resurfaced laying her head on the towel draped over the back of the tub. As she began to think, closing her eyes. Barbrey began to pray to the Old Gods for guidance as she lay still slowing her breathing. 

She fell asleep and woke finding herself in the Godswood of Winterfell dressed in a white linen shift. The entire Godswood was green save for the Heart Tree with its crimson foliage and it appeared to be summer. Barbrey saw a woman standing by a grove of weirwoods speaking with a small figure.  The woman looked like woodcut depicting the Queen of the Rills whom Barbrey remembered Lyanna showing her in the library a few days back, and the small figure seemed to fit the traditional description of one of the enigmatic creatures she’s heard tales about when she was a small girl, one of the Children of the Forest. She heard the small figure say to the woman,   Queen Ygertha Ryder, go to the Godswood in Winterfell before you meet the son of the Kings of Winter and the Warg King’s daughters. For some odd reason, Barbrey felt the small figure was addressing her as well as the ancient Queen of the Rills. At that moment, Barbrey saw she was noticed by another observer of the event. The observer was a short wiry-built man dressed much like the frogeaters of the Neck, standing perhaps only a few yards from where she stood.. As the man stared at her, he seemed to have a confused look on his face.  The man blinked his green eyes as Barbrey found herself back in the tub in Lyanna’s chambers.

The son of the Kings of Winter and the Warg King’s daughters?  thought Barbrey. The Child of the Forest looked at me when he said that. Then it dawned on her. Eddard Stark?  Before exhaling and sitting up in the tub, she said aloud to herself, “You prayed for guidance from the Old Gods and they gave you some. Godswood it is then.” 

Barbrey leaned over the tub towards the bell sitting on a small stool next to the copper tub she was soaking in. She rang the bell for the chambermaids to assist her in finishing her bath as well as dressing. If you are indeed one of the Kings of Winter come again, Eddard Stark, thought Barbrey. I best look the part of a Queen when we meet. 

The chambermaids entered and finished assisting with cleaning Barbrey. One fetched her smallclothes as the other began to comb her hair out. Once in her smallclothes, Barbrey instructed both maids in very great detail how she needed her hair braided. The chambermaids worked with her after a slow start to get her braids started. One of the older senior member of the household staff happened by to check on the service to Barbrey and assisted with the hairstyle. The elder household staff member had performed a similar hairstyle years back and it was one which was not done very often since it seemed the more elaborate hairstyles for noblewomen in vogue lately were either the simple single braids or were a variation on more Southron hairstyles or traditional wedding/betrothal lattice (which was the style Barbrey and Lyanna had given young Lady Dacey the night previous).  After an hour of meticulous braiding of the sides of her dark brown hair and tying the ends with black leather hair ties, they pulled the rest of the hair back in a tight single braid, tied at the end with a larger black leather hair tie with silver trim around it.  Barbrey looked in the beaten silver mirror about the size of a heater shield mounted on the wall and admired the finished look. She smiled to herself at the effect. 

Barbrey began to get dressed after this pulling on a pair of black woolen stockings as well as a simple black linen shift-style gown,  The latter functioned much like an arming shrt as the chambermaids assisted her with the outfit she had brought in case of possible issues on the road. Made of black and dark bronze colored leather, the top part of the gown itself was constructed functionally like light leather armor but had appeared to have a corseted fit around the cuirass area which accented her form. The tassets attached were relatively long and flexible, and fit over a  lower skirt piece which came to between her knees and ankles, with slits under where the side tassets covered for flexibility. She donned her normal black leather riding boots, and finished off the ensemble with a silver circlet with a a circular dragonglass jewel in the center of the forehead, and matching black leather bracers decorated with silver trim and ovoid dragonglass jewels matching the circlet’s jewel. 

Barbrey stopped once finished stepping back to get a better view of herself in the mirror. Lady Barbrey thanked the chambermiads and the older woman on the household staff as she put two castle forged daggers into hidden sheaths in her bracers in a nonchalant manner. The older woman departed the room after being given leave as the chambermaids assisted Barbrey with her cloak, a heavier black sable cloak with bronze colored fox fur trim held by a heavier polished steel metal clasp with a lacquered centerpiece depicting House Ryswell’s sigil. 

The chambermaids curtseyed quickly as Barbrey walked confidently down the hall towards the southwest tower to the stairs  heading down to the main level before she headed out the front entrance of the Great Keep down to the courtyard of the Innser Castle.  She continued through the ward until she reached the south ward. Remembering the brief dream she had she turned right instead of left in the the ward of the South Gate. 

She passed by the various residences for the ‘civilian’ castle staff and the large granary past which could be seen a large castle which served as the great keep for council level positions within Winterfell sunch as the Master-at-Arms Rodrik Cassel and his family as well as well as the heads of the various departments and their families. Barbrey remembered Lyanna noting that Maester Walys however occupied the Maester’s Tower and  the Steward and his family occupied a suite of apartments in one corner of  the Inner Castle near the Lord’s Solar, mainly out of necessity for the proximity of the Steward as he was on call to manage everything within Winterfell and for the Stark Family round the clock.  

Barbrey had barely walked past the Library Tower towards the Gate when she encountered the man she had seen earlier in her dream. The man himself was staring at her as well and approached. He had sandy brown hair and was wearing an oil and wax treated heavy cloak over his light leather armor and high leather boots which were colored  a mottled dark-green almost black. He seemed shorter than most men and was built like one of the swamp dwellers from the neck. 

The man pulled back the hood of his cloak and said in an oddly mirthful voice, “I feel as though we have just met but we haven’t.”  He held his right hand forward and Barbrey took it with her right hand as he kissed her knuckles, “Lord Howland of House Reed, son of Alaric, at your service. Given your the sigil on your cloak’s clasp, am I correct in assuming you are Lady Barbrey Ryswell?”

“I might be,” said Barbrey, somewhat apprehensive. 

“Well you’re definitely not Ygertha Ryder, Queen of the Rills, despite your uncanny resemblance to her,” said Howland. “Incidentally, I was practicing my greensight actually in the Godswood about a couple of hours ago. I was attempting to discern whom WhiteBranch, the Child of the Forest, was looking at whilst talking to the Queen as it wasn’t directly at me. It is said that the Children sometimes see greenseers as they come to witness the memories of the weirwoods. Do you have the greensight, Lady Barbrey?”

Barbrey seemed to take such as an honest query and answered Howland honestly, “No. You’re going to think me daft but I prayed to the Old Gods for guidance when meeting...my... betrothed....”

Howland nodded as he seemed to indicate some realization, “Ah. I see now.”  Howland looked to Barbrey as she  seemed to feel more at ease oddly with a man whose ethnic group she would never associate with normally. Those in the Barrows and the Rills didn’t hate the Crannogmen nor was their any disdain. The Crannogmen were just too odd for their sensibilities and had not been ‘Andalized’ as far as their culture as much as the Barrowmen and Rillsmen. Howland seemed ot be someone Barbrey had a gut feeling would be intertwined with her own life from the moment she met him.  “Did you know the event I was witnessing?”

“I’m guessing something in the past regarding the Queen of the Rills. I know her entire house perished quite a few centuries after the events we were witnessing,” replied Barbrey. “Beyond that I couldn’t tell you as that period in history for the North was not as well documented by those grey rats and unfortunately preservation of documents providing accounts of historical events unforunately tended to be more of a Southron thing.”

Howland smiled and motioned towards the Godswood as they both began walking towards it, Howland essentially backtracking on his course to speak with  Barbrey. He began catlking, “Yes. The event you witnessed was I’m guessing happened less than a hundred years before the Andal Invasion had reached the North.  House Stark at the time was set on conquering everything North of the Neck. The Barrow Kings were overthrown as was the Marsh King as well as pretty much all that comprises the North currently. The Lands of the Red Kings and the Kingdom of the Rills were the two remaining Kingdoms not conquered by the Kings of Winter or absorbed willingly into lands held by the Kings of Winter. My guess is the Children may have wanted the North to begin countering the Andal Invasion sooner. ”

They entered the Godswood and walked towards the Heart Tree. Howland said as they arrived, “I’ve seen the aftermath of when Queen Ygertha arrived at Winterfell. House Ryder and House Bolton decided to attempt an ambush on the Starks from within Winterfell.. Royce VII Bolton decided he wanted to live up to his name and collect a few skins of Starks and staged an attempted invasion from within. It was somewhat of a success although the entirety of the Bolton and Ryder forces within Winterfell were killed.  Queen Ygertha was killed by her brother Elmar Ryder protecting the five year old son of King Willam IV Stark.  Of course, once he grew up that little boy satisfied his vengeance erasing House Ryder from existence and becoming known as Theon the Hungry Wolf. “

Howland Reed pulled out a dagger at this point and cut his palm, “At any rate, let us both see what the Old Gods have called you to the Godswood of Winterfell to see.” He handed Barbrey the dagger and motioned for her to do the same. Barbrey seemed a bit reluctant but did the same. Howland placed his hand on the bark of the weirwood as he took her uncut hand in his other hand, as he said, “Do as I am doing now.” Barbrey nodded and followed along with Howland’s instructions. 

Reality seemed to fold in on itself as they both found themselves standing in the corner of the some room which looked unfamiliar. It appeared to be some Lord’s solar. They both observed it seemed to be standing in the corner near a tapestry, observing the events as they unfolded. Barbrey observed a rather large fat man dressed as a Lord, leaving the room after saying, “I will leave you to talk with Lord Jon Arryn alone as requested, my Lord Stark, regarding the raven we received here in White Harbor.”  Barbrey looked again at the tapestry to see it depicting a merman holding a trident. That must be Lord Wyman Manderly. We must be at the Merman’s Court in White Harbor. 

They both could see Lord Rickard Stark talking to another somewhat older man, a fairly built man who had seen quite few years with bright blue eyes and thinning whitish hair and a long beard. The older man was wearing the armor of a knight with wearing a whitish cloak with blue trim, the clasp being a sky blue disk with the image of a white falcon in flight emblazoned on it. Two Lord Paramounts in one room. Must be important, thought Barbrey. Lord of the Vale of Arryn. Must be Lord Jon Arryn. 

Lord Rickard Stark stepped forward and shook Lord Jon Arryn’s hands. His face was one of gratitude as he said, “By the Old Gods and the New, my prayers have been answered and you have my son Eddard alive.” 

Lord Jon Arryn’s face was not one of joy but of concern, “Eddard is alive but....not unscathed.”

“How so?”

“You remember that war we were all in almost twenty years ago against the last of the Blackfyres? That war took its toll on a lot of men. Those of us who returned who didn’t find purpose in ruling their lands or assisting in picking up the pieces or fulfilling their knightly vows in some other manner became brigands or sellswords in Essos.”

Rickard nodded, “That war was so violent and bloody that those of us who survived it, needed to focus on more noble pursuits to forget the bad memories. A few decided that they liked the blood a little too much. Hoster’s brother Brynden still has bad battle memories if you ask me. He’s devoted himself to defense of House Tully, anything to keep himself in the ‘soldiering’ mode. I’m sure  you’ve noticed that as well, Jon.”

Lord Jon Arryn nodded, “That could be part of the reason some of my minor Lords have gone astray participating in the criminial operation which had ensnared your son.”

Rickard stated, “Some minor lords of the North as well as smallfolk who did participate in that war fared no differently. I remember having to wait a year after I became Lord of Winterfell so I could clean up my own kingdom of those who chose the life of a brigand before I headed to King’s Landing to swear fealty to the crown.”

“Eddard is in such a predicament,” said Lord Jon Arryn. “May the Father give me wisdom and the Warrior give me the strength and the Crone to give me the knowledge to guide Eddard towards my vow to you of making him someone worthy of becoming a Northern Knight. His heart is good but he is.....”  Lord Jon Arryn took a deep breath as he leaned forward, “I saw the same expression of fear that my ancestors must have seen when they encountered your ancestor, King Theon Stark, the Hungry Wolf, when I saw Lord Robert Baratheon’s face when Eddard approached him to ask him to inform Lyanna about his daughter Mya Stone.”

Rickard Stark’s eyebrows raised, “Robert? The same young man who, if anything threatens him, reaches for his warhammer to stamp it out?”

Lord Jon Arryn said,  “Rickard, your son Eddard has the stare of a man who has seen been through many a bloody battle. Some of my older loyal knights had spotted it and confirmed such. The official story will remain that we rescued him from the fighting pits setup by the Tyroshi slavers and three of the Vale Mountain Clans. In reality, he was the sole survivor of a rebellion of seven slave fighters against the Tyroshi slavers and the Clan of the Bloody Ram and Brothers of the Black Goat. Do you know how we found Eddard?”

Lord Rickard leaned forward verry interested as Lord Jon Arryn continued, ”He was found wandering within House Tollett’s territory still clutching a bloody bastard sword and the severed head of Vardokan son of Vrakka. If Elbert Arryn had not been with the the patrol party from House Tollett that day wearing House Arryn’s sigil which Eddard apparently recognized,  I’m fairly certain the patrol would have had to enter an unintended melee with Eddard.” Lord Jon Arryn took a deep breath before stating, “Robert’s encounter with Eddard was shortly after the accidental duel with Ser Halys Coldwater which left Ser Halys in the maester’s care for two days.”

Rickard nodded, as Lord Jon Arryn continued, “His martial prowess is unmatched by everyone his age and he is at the very least a  fair challenge for most battle hardened knights. That coupled with his ... unnatural affinity for wolves and relatied species makes your son Eddard a very dangerous man.“  Lord Jon Arryn’s hesitancy when mentioning Eddard’s warging ability. “What he needs possibly is guidance or .... tempering ... more than I can give him. ”

Rickard agreed, “Eddard and Brandon will clash. It’s inevitable. I don’t look forward to having to manage the peace between the two brothers. It’s going to be hard enough with Hoster’s daughter being betrothed to Brandon. The Tully’s sect of the Faith’s lack of tolerance for those gifted by the Old Gods will make relations with between Brandon’s betrothed and Benjen and Eddard strained as it is. Brandon’s going to have a hard enough time trying to deal with Catelyn’s adjusting to ... the different culture of the North. I had requested Lord Robert allow for a year after Brandon’s wedding before he wed Lyanna so she’d be able to help Catelyn settle in.”

“That is smart,” agreed Lord Jon Arryn. “Might I also recommend that perhaps you have Lyanna spend some time in Riverrun along with Catelyn prior to the Wedding?  She will be Lady of Storm’s End. That may also expose Lyanna to some nuances of how we Andals handle our households. She’ll be coming down to Storm’s End I fear and be viewed as a beauty but nonetheless a Northern Savage,” said Lord Jon Arryn. Barbrey noticed the cheerful way the Lord of the Vale used the term  Andals in a joking manner. 

Rickard nodded with a smile, “Aye. Lyanna and Catelyn will both have an extra challenge adjusting and being accepted as the Lady Paramounts being from vastly different cultures than their Lords. Despite her  intelligence and capability for the position, this will give Lyanna  time to adjust and gain acceptance with the household of the castle of Riverrun. Word will spread via the smallfolk to other regions of the Seven Kingdoms, and, by the time comes when she marries Lord Robert, Lady Lyanna will be at least accepted as the Lady Paramount of the Stormlands at Robert’s side rather than some Northern Savage who stole the position from some other daughter of a Stormlands’ Lord.”

It was obvious from this encounter to Barbrey that the two men were friends. It dawned on her they were discussing the lady paramounts who will be running the main castles which were the seats of power for entire kingdoms.  Lyanna will be Lady Paramount of Storm’s End. Catelyn will be the Lady Paramount of the North and these lords are proposing that they both learn from each other,  she thought. Her thoughts of enmity towards Catelyn melted. Catelyn will be Lyanna’s goodsister as well. 

“Where did you think of placing Lord Eddard as far as his holdfast?” asked Lord Jon Arryn.

“Either Achyldenloch or Moat Caillin once its finished initially,” said Lord Rickard. “I was thinking initially of Achyldenloch but if things begin to get ugly with the Crown, I want a strong warrior or Lord Commander more accurately in charge of the Moat. If Eddard reminds you of Theon the Hungry Wolf, then that is who I want the North’s enemies to see when and if they come North. “

“That is a wise choice,” nodded Lord Jon Arryn. “He does show the aptitude to being a warrior and he’s taken to strategy and tactics like a duck to water.”

“However, Brandon’s indiscretions with Ryswell’s second daughter has forced my hand,” said Rickard in some disgust as he  threw down the quill he was holding on the desk. Lord Jon Arryn was taken aback as he sat in thought. Barbrey cringed at the emphasis Lord Rickard Stark put on the term ‘second daughter’. Thinking about Lord Rickard Stark’s position and the society they lived in, she understood the concept objectively. Her father whilst not quite a minor Lord but had not done anything to even improve his lands beyond making them viable for their herds of horses. She remembers her father’s initial joy when he received 60,000 gold dragons from House Stark for the lands towards Saltspear between the west fork of Torrhen’s river and the east fork of the Rillstone river. They were mostly barren hills leading to the marshy coastal regions with some fishing village 

Lord Jon Arryn stated, “You’re making Eddard Lord of the Sunset Coast.”

Lord Rickard Stark nodded, “Lord Rogar Bolton I am pretty sure is forcing Lord Rodrick Ryswell’s hand at this point given the last  communicae I had received from House Ryswell and the fact that his eldest daughter is in the same position as Elspeth Condon was a few years back.”

Lord Arryn nodded, “If this were purely Lord Ryswell pushing for an increased interest in your development of the North’s Sunset Coast as the price of Brandon’s defiling the Ryswell-Dustin betrothal, he would have insisted on his eldest daughter Bethany to be wed to a Stark son ensuring ties ot House Stark and perhaps requiring a higher bride price compensation for what was done. He did not. House Dustin was also wronged as well and settled rather quickly for 50,000 gold dragons and I arranged a betrothal to Willam Dustin to Lord Justan Flint’s daughter Unella.” Rickard Stark shook his head, “Any demands coming from Lord Rodrick Ryswell after that that swift marriage to Rogar’s heir Roose of Ryswell’s eldest daughter, I will be interpreting as being from Rogar Bolton.”

“Just curious as far as House Condon, why didn’t you pursue justice then?”  said Lord Jon Arryn. Barbrey seemed curious too at the unasked question of why Lord Stark had let what happened to House Condon occur but she got her answer as the Lord Paramount of the North challenged the Lord Paramount of the Vale.to a question regarding legal justice.

“How could I, Jon?  You’re a Lord Paramount and an honorable one at that. You should know the answer: one cannot bring a Lord to justice without concrete proof,”  countered Lord Rickard Stark. “Rogar Bolton however has gone too far with what I think he’s attempting, which is why I am putting Eddard as Lord over the prize assets of House Stark which Rogar Bolton is after. If Eddard is who I think he might be, House Bolton will meet the fate Theon the Hungry Wolf originally planned for the Red Kings if House Bolton is attempting what they did with House Condon on House Stark and House Ryswell. I’m going to call Rodrick Ryswell out on this when he arrives in a few fortnight’s time and House Stark will call House Bolton out on such in front of the Heart Tree during the Winter Gathering of the Lords.”  Barbrey knew that no one of the North including the Boltons would dare lie in front of the Heart Tree, such would be a blasphemy. If her father is called upon to do such as well the fate of her own house will not be a good one either. Knowing Lord Rickard Stark he will likely have troops in place to siege the Dreadfort once Rogar Bolton arrives in Winterfell, thought Barbrey. Bethany will most likely still be at the Dreadfort as Rogar is not going to let his hostage run free.  I pray to the gods my father made a grave mistake and is under duress. 

Lord Jon Arryn nodded, “If you are moving against a House attempting to usurp the lands of Sunset Coast of the North, you will have to have Eddard involved. He is six and ten, almost seven and ten. He is the age of a majority to be a Lord legally. I will work with my heirs Elbert and Denys to prepare him for such a duty in his studies before he returns to Winterfell in eight moons for the Winter Gathering of the Lords.”

Rickard Stark nods, “Aye. I will indeed.”

Lord Jon Arryn said, “You’ll still advise Eddard to go through with the betrothal to Barbrey Ryswell?”

Lord Jon Arryn seemed to look over in their direction. Howland froze as did Barbrey. A cat wandering the halls had jumped on a nearby table and looked at them both, nodding before moving on. Lord Jon’s head and eyes followed the cat as it walked off. Howland said briefly, “Cats have magic in them and they can see between the realms of time and between life and death. They can see greenseers when they arrive to witness a past event.”

Barbrey nodded as she heard Rickard Stark, “Unfortunately she’s the only remotely worthy option who is age appropriate for Eddard within the North since Bethany Ryswell and Unella Flint are already spoken for. Outside of those I have alliances with , that is yourself and Hoster, I will not look elsewhere for a match for Eddard. Hoster will most likely push for Lysa to be betrothed to Eddard if the Lord Paramount of the Westerlands turns him down on his offer. Lord Wyman’s offer to Hoster for his son Ser Wendel’s hand seemed to be met with rather less enthusiasm than anticipated. Let’s hope Tywin accepts.” 

Lord Jon Arryn said, “The crown already decided that actually if you haven’t heard already. Tywin Lannister quit his post as Hand of the King after the King essentially conscripted his heir into the Kingsguard. Tywin’s second son was offered but Hoster turned him down. Personally, I think it’s less because young Tyrion Lannister is a dwarf, but more because he’s not going to be heir to the Rock.”

Rickard Stark nods, “Aye, Hoster does have that ambition where he’d betroth his daughters to Maelys the Monstrous if it put his House in a better more secure position. I know if anything happens to Brandon he’ll push for Eddard to wed Catelyn so she’ll be Lady Paramount which is the reason I had the specific parties written into the contract such that the alliance stood without a betrothal and a bride price of 100,000 gold dragons would be paid in that event. I’ll draft the betrothal at least for Barbrey and Eddard in a similar manner. Let’s hope he doesn’t try to tie the betrothal contract too much to his vassal contract and we can move on with that at least.”

Barbrey knew the betrothal was going ahead now and Eddard would marry her regardless of her family’s status. She looked to Howand Reed as the shimmer began on the room around them and they were whisked off to another location. 

Howland and Barbrey found themselves in the middle of the Wolfswood. Howland looked around , “I’m guessing this is the Northern half of the Wolfswood across the Kingsroad from Long Lake seeing the rocky outcroppings as we’re in the southern foothills of the Northern Mountains.Perhaps a few leagues west of the Kingsroad. Just around sunrise looking at the light from the East.” They walked for a bit until they reached a clearing in the middle of the forest. There were tents and a great many horses as well as what looked like pieces of siege engines unassembled on large wagons.  Barbrey looked and there were easily 2000 men-at-arms and archers as well as almost half as many cavalry. 

The banners being displayed were the Flayed Man of House Bolton. Howland’s smile dropped as they both saw this. He donned a look of concern and urged Barbrey to follow him towards what looked like a command tent and they entered.  There were several men in black ringmail armor stained red on the upper part with blood talking with their commander. The commander seemed to be an otherwise attractive looking man with a black well-kept beard and long black hair tied back neatly. He seemed to have a permanent smirk on his face. His eyes identified him as a Bolton trueborn, a grey the color of dirty ice. 

Royce Bolton. Barbrey thought as he jaw dropped. Where his older brother Elmar was bestial and slow, Royce was cunning , quick and intelligent. Both had a reputation for cruelty surpassed only by their elder brother Rogar and both had appetites seemingly left unsated. To most in the North they were physical affronts to the Old Gods. Barbrey was pretty sure the gods of the Faith of the Seven as well as the Drowned God of the Ironborn and  Red Fire God of Essos were offended by the Bolton brothers’ very existence as well. 

“Okay, all of you, we’re to wait here holding until our scouts report  the Karstark convoy as passed, we will wait half a day then we will proceed to here,” said Royce pointing to a map indicating another clearing in the Wolfswood just North of Winterfell. “Lazoquo Ostelion of Myr and his company of sellswords, The Spears of Damnation, will be meeting us there after travelling North on the Kingsroad with some of the key supplies for this strategy. We will wait for my brother Rogar Bolton to leave the keep through the Hunter’s Gate before we begin our move against Winterfell.”

Royce began issuing orders to his commanders as far as what looked like battle preparations. When he had finished, a scout entered giving a report, “House Umber, Glover, Mormont, Wull, Norrey, and a few other Mountain clans and Glover vassal houses from the Northwest just passed us heading South along the Kingsroad. Raven from the Dreadfort by the way, Lord Royce, for you.”

The scout handed the raven note as Royce broke the seal and dismissed him, “You may go.”

He read the note for a few seconds, smiling afterwards, “So no change in plans, but this will make things easier. Lord Rogar Bolton and 50 of his more expendable house guards and staff with him. Left that spineless heir behind of Rogar with his soon-to-be-flayed wife guarded by my brother Elmar. So me, we will need to just look for Rogar before we begin.”  Royce looked around at his men who nodded. “Dismissed.”

Royce walked out of the meeting tent to his own that was nearby. Barbrey and Howland followed him into his tent. The tent seemed  larger than the others, about the size of the meeting tent. When they entered it, they noticed the material was an odd thin material, not quite canvas and not quite leather. Barbrey felt sick to her stomach,  as Howland made a face of disgust that confirmed her suspicions: The lining of this tent is made from dried human skins. Father, how could you make a deal with these blasphemous abominations!?!?  

Royce was greeted by a woman dressed in similar armor to the men outside. She had dark brown hair braided on the sides similar to her hairstyle but looser with no braid in the back. Her dark brown eyes were a warm color but nothing about this woman seemed welcoming or warm. She approached Royce and gave him a kiss on the cheek. “Not many villages around here, lover, so no young maidens to have any fun with,” said the woman.

“You’ll just have to try harder, Abagal,” said Royce to the woman as they kissed briefly. 

“I did bring something to tide us over until we reach Winterfell,” said Abagal. 

“I wouldn’t worry about Winterfell,” said Royce. “Our friend Lazoquo Ostelion of Myr and the Spears of Damnation are bringing us a gift which will make that unfortunate accident Lazoquo’s employer, Vidar Tarraenos’ lover survived back in ‘59 in the Stormlands look like a small campfire. I will be the envy of the shades of my namesake as Winterfell is bathed in a green glow as it burns to the ground and the Red Kings rise again.”   

Abagal walked over to the corner of the tent where a large canvas bag was and dragged it to the open area in the center of the tent. Royce unlocked the chains holding the back closed and out fell an older woman dressed in greyish white woolen gown with a wide belt which was woven from rope made from weirwood fibers and decorated with weirwood leaves. She had a wreath of weirwood leaves seated like a crown in her hair, which was grey streaked with black. Her eyes were a soft bluish-grey. The woods witch was barefoot as well which was odd for the winter given the temperature, but Barbrey saw no symptoms of frostbite.

“Interesting, a woods witch,” said Royce Bolton. “Maybe have her tell our fortunes, then flay her if we don’t like it?”

“Well a few more skins and we’ll have enough for a new tent,  although I did have an idea for making perhaps a formal gown for when you rule Sea Dragon’s Point?” said Abagal teasingly. 

This earned an enthusiastic nod from Royce Bolton, “Now there’s an idea. I always like the way you think, my love.”

The woods witch attempted to get up as Royce pulled her to her feet and backhanded her across the mouth. Royce then fastened her to a set of manacles hung from the top framework of the tent. “So tell me woods witch: what does my future hold?”

The woods witch looked at Howland then at Barbrey, then to  Royce Bolton with contempt and said angrily, “Vífrinn ór Magnarinn Vargr ok Grœnnmaðr sjá þú með grœnnsit.  Kindrinn ór vargrinn munu munu andlátinn ór þú!”  Howland’s eyebrows raised as he said to Barbrey, “A woods witch, she can see us.”  Barbrey seemed a little unsettled as she took one of her daggers out from her bracers. Barbrey has made it a point during her education to learn the dialects of Old Tongue. She had been encouraged by Lyanna who was learning such as there were a good many books in the library of Winterfell on the history of House Stark writting in Old Tongue. It was also useful when speaking with those of the far Northern terirrtories such as when dealing with those from the Mountain Clans or Skagos. Lord Rodrick Ryswell had no objections to her learning that wildling language after she was able to act as intrpreter with House Norrey and House Wull for a rather lucrative sale of quite a few stallions and mares he was  trying to get rid of. Garrons did not sell well with the Ryswell’s normal market of Lords and Ladies, who preferred coursers and palfreys for their families and destriers for their cavalries.  

Abagal pulled some knives from two sheaths on her hips. The blades were about eight inches long and thin. Barbrey had seen similar knives in the kitchens used to filet fish caught from the streams near her home. These however looked like castle forged steel and had carved ironwood handles. Abagal said, “Not sure what she said.”  Abagal approached the woods witch and slapped her across the face, “Unfortunately no one speaks that wildling dialect here!”

The woods witch cursed at Abagal, spitting out some blood and a tooth, “Ek vættFleiriinnr fólk tekr þú!” 

She then turned to Royce Bolton, “May I have the first cut?”

Royce smiled malevolently, “We are enthusiastic this evening, aren’t we, Abagal?”  He paused before lounging on a nearby portable settee. “Proceed my love.” 

Barbrey pulled her other dagger as Howland looked at her oddly, “We are but spirits observing, Lady Barbrey. You won’t be able to interact with them either so your daggers will do no good.”   The woods witch however looked directly at Barbrey, “Kind ór Ygerthórr Ryll, inn minn dróttning, fylgjagð mik!“  Barbrey looked then at Abagal with anger as Abagal moved towards the woods witch with her flaying knives. 

Barbrey walked forward and stabbed at either side of Abagal’s neck with her daggers. Expecting to go right through she felt the blades connect but pass through either side of Abagal’s neck with very little resistance. Abagal froze in place for a moment as Barbrey left the daggers in as she approached the woods witch.

“Abagal?” said Royce, sitting up knowing something was not quite right. Barbrey unfastened the woods witch’s bonds, helping her down from her dangling position, and helping her gain her footing. Royce sat there initially confused as to what was going on, as the woods witch stood there somewhat weakened, but free of her bonds for a few seconds, before stepping away from the silent frozen Abagal. 

Barbrey looked at Howland briefly, noting he had a speechless look of disbelief on his face, before returning to Abagal.  Barbrey twisted the daggers forward and backwards in a motion meant to sever both arteries in the neck. She then removed them from Abagal, surprised at how they remained bloodless as Abagal collapsed to the floor in a heap whilst blood sprayed from two large open wounds on either side of her neck. 

Royce looked at the woods witch in anger and disbelief as she said, “Gamallrinn goðar hafkurseðr þú, Royce ór Rauðrinn Konungrar.”  Royce Bolton screamed in anger as he drew his longsword and charged towards the woods witch. The woods which looked dead on at Barbrey saying something in a language she did not recognize, “Dārilaros hen Dāria Ygertha, se  Jaes Uēpys  teptan ao iā irudy va bisa tubis.  Pōnta also emagon mirros naejot ivestragon ao.”  Time itself seemed to freeze as the woods witch said this as Barbrey saw the longsword mere inches from cutting the woods witch down. 

Barbrey looked to Howland Reed as the shimmer began on the tent around them. The shimmer seemed to be different than the first time as she saw Howland Reed fade into nothing as she suddenly found herself elsewhere. 

Barbrey awoke and found herself at the base of a truly massive Heart Tree surrounded by more weirwoods. She looked through the gaps in the trees and saw a lake beyond. She found herself alone. Lord Howland Reed was nowhere to be found.  Barbrey started to get nervous and fearful until she hear a rather pleasant yet authoritative woman’s voice. 

“Do not fear, Lady Barbrey. The blood sacrifice of Lady Abagal Bolton brought you to stand in front of the Old Gods,” said the voice. Barbrey looked for the voice and saw a woman with pretty much the same exact hairstyle as her, wearing a circlet crown with a blue gemstone in it. The woman seemed older than her with chestnut brown hair with grey streaks in it. Her gown seemed to be a white woolen Northern-style gown, similar in cut to those Barbrey seemed to favor with the high necked collar. The woman had a white snowbear fur cloak fastened with circular clasp similar to Barbrey’s with a sigil she didn’t recognize.  It was a blue horse rearing up on a white background bordered with a circle of Old Tongue Runes. Barbrey read the runes, recognizing the phrasing immediately as possibly that of  House Ryder,  “And the shade of a very proud ancestor of yours.”

“Lyanna showed me a woodcut of you in a picture in the Library at Winterfell,” said Barbrey. “You’re Queen Ygertha Ryder aren’t you?”

“I was in life, yes.”

“I was in the tub bathing this morning and saw you talking with one of the Children,” said Barbrey

“So that was you WhiteBranch was staring at,” said Ygertha. “Your fate will hopefully be much better than mine although you will be protecting the future of the Kings of Winter. Actually to be more accurate you are the future of the Kings of Winter.” Barbrey looked somewhat confused as Ygertha took her hand and motioned for her to sit down on a nearby flat rock which functioned well as a bench. “What are House Stark’s words, Barbrey?”

“Winter is coming,” said Barbrey. The Houses of the Lords Paramount and the Crown always had easy to remember House Mottos and were always short phrases it seemed: Winter is Coming ... High as Honor ... Family, Duty, Honor....Hear Us Roar...Unbowed,Unbent,Unbroken....Growing Strong ... Ours is the Fury....Fire and Blood .... House Ryder’s was Ride as One, House Ryswell’s is Swiftly Running . 

“And literally Winter is Coming,” said Ygertha. “We’re in a winter now, we’ll have spring, summer, then autumn a few times again. Eight years from now the longest summer in thousands of years will begin lasting more than a decade, then followed by Winter. There is only one other time in history where a summer lasted that long to be followed by ....”

“The Long Night,” said Barbrey, shivering at the thought. “And what does that have to do with....”

“You?” said Ygertha. “I don’t know exact details, nor will I be able to give them to you. But your children will be important for the forces of the good during the Long Night.”

“And I’m assuming you’re meaning my children with Eddard Stark ?” said Barbrey to Ygertha, feeling somewhat skeptical. “Perhaps it was my child which I ....”

“Despite the heritage behind his name, Brandon Stark is not the future of the Kings of Winter, anymore than Rogar and Royce Bolton are the future of the line of the Red Kings,” said Ygertha rather coldly. 

“That’s a bit of a burden you’re putting on me, don’t you think?” countered Barbrey, as she saw a crow flying into one of the branches of a nearby weirwood tree. The crow seemed rather odd as it had three eyes. 

“The Old Gods have seen possible futures for both you and Lord Eddard Stark,” said Ygertha, with a wry chuckle. “There is one rather grim one where you end up a bitter old spinster, blaming the Starks and the ‘grey rats’ for all your woes before dying forgotten in Barrowton during the Long Night, whilst Eddard marries the Trout’s daughter, dying long before Winter begins as do all of his sons....” Ygertha looked over her shoulder towards the crow sitting on the branch, “His second youngest was named after the man you once loved and dies north of the Wall, only to be come a puppet for a Targaryen bastard who forgot his purpose, whilst on a power trip wanting to live forever. Remember your purpose, Bloodraven.  The Seven Hells you were taught about by your Septon do exist and there is a place for you in the lowest levels if that is the route you choose to take.” Those last two sentences seemed to echo as if said by many voices, not just the shade of Ygertha Ryder.

The odd-looking crow cawed, after seeming to nod and flew away. Barbrey imagined the crow, or this Bloodraven whom that animal represented, was frightened into compliance. Ygertha then turned to Barbrey, with a comforting smile, “The Old Gods are not asking you to be extraordinary, just be yourself. The strong relationships you have and will have with your goodsisters, even Lady Catelyn, for your children and theirs will be the ones who will defeat the Others and end the Long Night. "

Ygertha added, "But most importantly, Eddard is more like the sigil of his House than you realize. Direwolves like all wolves mate for life. The alpha male of a pack is very dependent on his mate, who is normally the alpha female, to help guide the pack as well as to guide him on decisions which will affect the pack.  Eddard may have the makings of a great warrior and a legendary hero, but it is his wife who will make him a Lord whom the North needs. A King needs a proper Queen. "

"But how....I'm not ... " stammered Barbrey, as she seemed at a loss for words.

"You come from a long line of great Queens and the descendants of great Queens," said Ygertha. "I have faith in you....as do the Old Gods..."

The shimmering began again around the trees as Barbrey felt herself being transported elsewhere as she had done twice before. She found herself facing the Heart Tree in Winterfell with a very concerned Howland Reed standing over her looking very panicked and worried.

Chapter Text

Afternoon, 18th day, 10th Moon,  280 A.C.

“Here let me help you up, Lady Barbrey,” said the panic-stricken young Crannogmen as Barbrey found herself back in the Godswood of Winterfell. Howland Reed helped her to her feet as she gradually regained her coherence. “Are you okay?” he asked genuinely concerned. 

Barbrey looked at Howland Reed, “Yes. I’m okay. Just a little shaken by a unique experience....and.....”  She looked at Howland with a serious look. “Still trying to make sense of everything we both saw. 

Howland nodded, “Myself as well.”  Barbrey avoided mentioning that she had actually killed someone whilst in another time and place through Howland’s use of his powers as a greenseer. This may have been why Howland Reed was looking at her cautiously. She took a deep breath, “I am no longer really of House Ryswell. It was my mother house in which I was raised. My mother, father, brothers....my sister Bethany ... we grew up as Ryswells...’Swiftly Running’ ... “ 

Barbrey paused for a moment as she was holding back some tears, “I find out matrilineally I am the descendant of Ygertha, Queen of the Rills.” Barbrey took a moment to compose herself, “The Old Gods through the shade of my ancestor have essentially informed me that I hold the responsibility in my hands for the future of House Stark. So a little more pressure on making a good impression with Lord Edd__”

Howland interrupted, “Well, I know he thinks your beautiful at least. He’s seen you before through warging into the direwolves who guided your party back from the hunting cabin.” Barbrey knew this as well and felt she didn’t need to be reminded of such.  “He finds you.....er.....very passionate about your feelings.”  This raised Barbrey’s eyebrows until she realzied the conversation between Lyanna and her which must have been overheard, regarding creative ways she’d like to rip Brandon apart for what he did. ”Eddard’s not happy about the circumstances behind your betrothal. I don’t think anyone would be given the circumstances. However, he did say he will do his duty to his House. But from my interpretation any hesitancy is from the circumstances of the situation, rather than from who you are or who he perceived you to be through the eyes of direwolves he’s warged into. I think its a fair guess to say that, if there wasn’t the issue of his brother Brandon’s indiscretion as well as the issues with House Ryswell and House Bolton, you would be the one would most likely be betrothed to Eddard being younger than your sister Bethany and Unella Flint by a couple of years, if Eddard was made Lord of Achyldenloch.” 

Barbrey seemed to feel comforted slightly with that, although she was slightly dumbfounded at Howland’s openness with her. Although it was understandable with a greenseer. They have the ability to see into anyone’s past so there is nothing hidden from them. That they should be transparent and honest is almost expected. Howland continued, “From my time with him the past few days, if there’s a fight or a mission of some sort, he handles that well. He is well-trained as a soldier. From my conversations with him, he’s got the makings of a good Lord Commander, but he needs to be learn to be a Lord. This need was confirmed by our observations of the conversation in White Harbor by Lord Jon Arryn and your future goodfather Lord Rickard Stark.” 

Howland Reed took a deep breath, “Something my father told me before I left was someday I will be Lord of Greywater Watch and I will need Jyanna to lean on for my duties as a Lord.  Jyanna will be responsible for the keep whilst I will be handling primarily our operations with our the vassal houses of House Reed across the Neck as well as service of the Neck to House Stark of Winterfell and our Lord Paramount. As far as relations with my vassal houses as well as with our Lord Paramount as well as other houses in the realm, I must share such burdens with Jyanna. I will be dependent upon my relationship with Jyanna as Lady of Greywater Watch for my Lordship to be a success.”

Barbrey nodded, having some doubts, stating, “Well, there’s no Lady Stark around Winterfell....”

Howland Reed stated, “There was at one time. It was a tragedy that she caught the birthing fever after Benjen’s birth. However, how much of a success would he have been with being able to move forward with what’s been done on the Sunset Coast without Lyarra’s work with Achyldenloch? Lyarra Stark was the eldest daughter of Arya Flint of the Flints of the Mountains.  Lyarra Stark made a journey home to her mother’s village with six moon old Brandon, as Lord Rickard Stark and his father planned were working with House Glover on the beginnings of Sea Dragon Point as well as House Slate on the beginnings of Grey Harbor.  Lyarra Stark herself brought in all the wives of the Mountain Clans turning their heads towards a direct alliance with House Umber and herself had worked the initial re-establishment of Achyldenloch. Achyldenloch’s development was vital to the development of the Sunset Coast.”

Barbrey nodded. She knew that Achyldenloch and the lands of the New Gift had not yet been developed to the point where they could be the breadbasket of the North that they once were but the farms which were established and now working had provided for the stores for the Mountain Clans and partially for House Umber. However, they were able to feed any labor needed for House Glover and House Slate and lately the Crannogmen for the development of Sea Dragon Point, Grey Harbor, as well as the beginnings of the reconstruction of  Moat Caillin, whilst at the same time letting such go unnoticed as far as progress by any non-allied Kingdoms as well as the Crown. “No other woman could have done what Lyarra had done and Lord Stark and his father already had their hands full I’m guessing,” said Barbrey with the realization of what a great Lady was expected to have the ability to accomplish. 

“Exactly. Now, because a Lord is required for the Sunset Coast , not a Lord Commander,” said Howland Reed. “Eddard will need a Lady who works with him as a partner as Lady Lyarra had done with Lord Rickard.”  

Barbrey looked at Howland concerned. “Queen Ygertha ... the Old Gods ... they basically told me the same thing....I remember them saying Eddard is more of a Direwolf than I may actually realize and Direwolves mate for life. The alpha male of a pack is very dependent on his mate, who is normally the alpha female, to help guide the pack as well as to guide him on decisions which will affect the pack.  She said that Eddard may be a great warrior, but it is his wife who will make him a Lord whom the North needs. I will need to be that wife for Eddard.” 

Barbrey took a deep breath, “I can be that for him if he’ll let me, but I still haven’t met Eddard yet really.”  Barbrey felt oddly less uncomfortable talking a greenseer about this. “I need to know that there’s something more between us than frankly duty and destiny.”

Howland nodded, “Aye. At the very least, we’ll need to inform Eddard and Lord Rickard Stark what we saw in Royce Bolton’s camp through greensight.”  Howland said, “I will go to Lord Rickard Stark and inform him. Most likely this Lazoquo Ostelion of Myr and The Spears of Damnation are disguised as merchants. If they are transporting what I think they are transporting,  they’re going to do so by land rather than by sea. They will come up through the Neck, so I’ll need to send a raven as soon as possible to my father and the Lords of the Neck to ambush them.” 

Barbrey exhaled, “I suppose I should go meet Eddard.”  Barbrey embraced Howland Reed in an informal hug, taking him by surprise, “Thank you for the gift of your greensight and I hope to meet Jyanna soon.”

Howland laughed nervously after the embrace, “You are most welcome, Lady Barbrey.”  They walked out of the Godswood together. Howland himself went towards the Library Tower going up the steps which coiled around the tower to an entrance six stories in the air. This would be a shortcut to the Great Keep where Lord Rickard’s Solar resided due to the bridge connecting the Library tower to the upper floors of the Great Keep. Barbrey herself backtracked the way she came towards the southern ward near the South Gate. She walked quickly across the yard of the ward towards the southeastern ward of Winterfell. 

After entering from the ward Barbrey saw several Stark soldiers practicing on the titlyard field to her right as she continued towards the tiltyard.  They looked rather green as they seemed less graceful than some of the sparring she had seen with Winterfell’s soldiers or House Ryswell’s militia. They must be green recruits, she thought. Barbrey noticed the Master-at-Arms Ser Rodrik Cassel training them along with an assistant who seemed to not be wearing any armor other than what looked like a heavy woolen tunic and britches with leather boots and a belt. The assistant seemed to be moving swiftly instructing the recruits, demonstrating some techniques deftly, and encouraging them. 

Barbrey looked to her left towards the spectator stands for the tiltyard, and saw Lyanna sitting with her brother Benjen and his new possible betrothed, Dacey Mormont. Benjen’s direwolf pup was lounged next to Dacey. Behind them seated on the bleachers was a massive direwolf about the size of a larger destrier. Barbrey waved to them as she turned towards the seating are. As she did this, the large greyish-white direwolf got up and dextrously loped around Lyanna’s right and towards Barbrey at a relatively leisurely pace, stopping in front of her. 

Barbrey was slightly startled before quietly saying, “Heil til þú, Magnar Vargr”  The large direwolf chuffed what she could construe as a friendly snort. She’d heard such from some of the sheep herding dogs in the Rills and figured as the direwolf nudged her with his snout, that he was trying to move her towards the tiltyard.  “Munu vér líðþár?”

Barbrey walked beside the direwolf and the direwolf seemed to be relatively calm as she placed her hand on his right forward shoulder as they rounded the inner fence to the tiltyard.  She saw the assistant spot her and the direwolf as she moved closer. This wasn’t the assistant but Lord Eddard Stark assisting Ser Rodrik Cassel at training the new recruits for the Stark army. Definitely more than just a fierce warrior if he’s devoting his time to training the troops who will be serving Winterfell, Barbrey thought.

Eddard said a few words she could not hear to Ser Rodrik Cassel before he began to leave the sparring area towards Barbrey. When he reached her, the direwolf sat down on his hindquarters. It was then that she got a good look at her betrothed. He was about the same height as her, maybe an inch taller. Barbrey did not want to compare him with Brandon but he was definitely shorter by a few inches, but seemed to have a stronger build. His face was definitely that of a Stark. Oddly the prominent scar across his face was not as disconcerting to her as she had thought. It was oddly attractive in that his scar as subconciously she thought that if he had survived many a batttle and would be able to protect her and their family much better. 

Eddard took her hand in his and kissed her knuckles in the traditional lordly greeting. “Lady Barbrey Ryswell, I presume.”  His voice seemed to betray a growl as if he was less eager to meet her than she was to meet him. Barbrey nodded in response, but she was speechless for a split second, staring at Eddard as his gaze seemed to burn through her. Barbrey said, “Yes. And you must be Lord Eddard Stark.” 

Barbrey then looked at the direwolf and then to Eddard before saying rather pointedly, “So what’s with the angry gaze?” 

Eddard seemed taken aback by the question, looking at the direwolf briefly. The direwolf whimpered slightly as if to tell Eddard that he’s on his own on this one. Before he could say anything, Barbrey had gained her confidence and began, “Well you can stand there looking at me like a wolf that’s about to kill its prey, or you can have a long conversation with the woman who’s been tasked by the Old Gods to do everything in her power to help you become the Northern Lord you were meant to be, Lord Eddard Stark.”

“Old Gods?” said Eddard in a rather disarmed manner. 

“Yes,” replied Barbrey with a confident stare back. “I’ve had a rather interesting past four hours since I woke up. Although the two positive things is my headache is gone as is any bias I have against Crannogmen after the time I had spent in the Godswood our mutual friend, Lord Howland Reed.”

Eddard’s gaze softened as he looked at Barbrey for a moment. This was interrupted by an impatient sounding chuff from the direwolf.  Eddard said calmly, “Okay, we’ll go, Cregan.”  

Eddard looked to Barbrey, “He wants to go fetch his mate from the Wolfswood and bring her back to Winterfell.” Cregan chuffed towards Barbrey.  

Barbrey said towards the direwolf, “Well lead on Cregan. We must get you to your Lynara.”  Cregan seemed to chuff in agreement as he loped along ahead of Eddard and Barbrey. Eddard couldn’t help but smile at the remark, as they began to walk back towards the spectator seating area where Lyanna, Benjen and Dacey were seated with the direwolf pup,  Shadow.  

As they passed the bleachers, Eddard shouted in their direction, “We’re taking Cregan to Hunter’s Gate so he can go see his mate and bring her back here.”   

Barbrey began to worry about what they were about to face especially with what Royce Bolton had planned for Winterfell. His boasting stuck in her mind, hearing Royce Bolton's voice in that sickeningly suave tenor voice of his. Our friend Lazoquo Ostelion of Myr and the Spears of Damnation are bringing us a gift which will make that unfortunate accident Lazoquo’s employer, Vidar Tarraenos’ lover survived back in ‘59 in the Stormlands look like a small campfire. I will be the envy of the shades of my namesake as Winterfell is bathed in a green glow as it burns to the ground and the Red Kings rise again. Barbrey said to herself in Old Tongue: ""Rauðrrinn Konungrar munu komaptrr, en þú munu eigi munu mit þeim, Royce Bolton."

Eddard looked at her for a moment, curious. Barbrey looked at Eddard briefly as they walked behind Cregan past the archway, towards the Glass Gardens the rear of the Great Keep. Barbrey could see the the Guest Keep and the tops of the trees in the Godswood beyond.   "....as Winterfell is bathed in a green glow as it burns to the ground..."  echoed again in her mind as they continued walking.  "Royce Bolton will be attempting to lay siege to Winterfell. He will wait until Rogar Bolton has left before the attack begins."

"How do you know this?"

Barbrey looked at Eddard as they walked closer to one another, "Well, your friend Howland is a rather powerful greenseer. He took me with him on one of his journeys. Royce Bolton has a war camp in a clearing around the Northern half of the Wolfswood in the southern foothills of the Northern Mountains. We were there." At this moment, she began to remember she had killed someone whilst on a greensight journey. She had done this act in the moment and it hadn't hit her until now what she had seen. "Their tent is made from .... human skins... they were torturing a wood witch ... I ...."  

Eddard looked at Barbrey, "What did Royce Bolton say exactly about his plans for the siege?"

Barbrey said, "He said he will be the envy of his ancestors ghosts , assuming he meant Royce II Bolton and Royce IV Bolton, as he burns Winterfell.  He said something regarding Winterfell being bathed in a green glow as the Red Kings rise again."

Eddard stopped in his tracks, "Sounds like that ....  I remember a conversation with Lord Jon Arryn and my friend Denys regarding Summerhall. The Targaryens were trying to hatch dragons via fire. They used a substance called Wildfire, I believe it was called."  Eddard paused for a moment. "The Bolton's have Wildfire? Where would they get it?"

Barbrey thought for a moment, "No. They don't have it. Royce Bolton said they're awaiting someone named Lazoquo Ostelion of Myr who apparently leads a company of sellswords called The Spears of Damnation. My guess is Lazoquo is delivering this 'wildfire'. Howland Reed is talking to your father about it right now. He's going to send a raven to his father and his vassal Lords in the Neck and they'll stop them coming up the Kingsroad before they get to Winterfell."

Eddard nodded as they began to walk again, "One more thing House Stark will be calling Rogar Bolton on when he arrives then." Barbrey was pleasantly surprised as Eddard put his arm around her, allowing her to lean on him closer. as they continued to walk behind Cregan towards the Hunter's Gate.

“þú eru mjrök óique víf, Dróttning ór Ryllan”, said Eddard in a slightly more playful voice.

“Ek em bliðr þú hugssvár, minn Konungr ór  Vetr” , said Barbrey as they continued towards the Hunter's Gate towards sunset. They watched the guards change as some of the castle staff as the torchlights leading up to the gate were lit. They continued out the gate behind Cregan stopping around fifty yards from the outer wall of Winterfell. Cregan began to go forward and hesitated, but not before walking back towards Barbrey, giving a short friendly chuff and loping off rapidly into the Wolfswood.

Eddard and Barbrey stood there watching the sunset over the Wolfswood.  Given the chaos of the past few days, Barbrey for once felt a moment of peace as she leaned on Eddard.  

Chapter Text

HOWLAND III 
Sunset - Evening, 18th day, 10th Moon,  280 A.C.

Howland Reed spent somet time actually researching some of what he and Barbrey had discussed and a little bit more regarding the geneology of House Ryder and House Ryswell. If Barbrey was really the descendant of the last Queen of the Rills then her betrothal and marriage to Eddard would have even more significance due to its relevance with several prophecies put forth by past greenseers. Howland noted after a couple of hours in the .seen in the library had reached the door at the end of the bridge leading from the Library Tower to the Great Keep. Two guards stood there, both ensuring that only authorized persons passed into the Great Keep where the Starks kept their home.  Howland put his hands up in a traditional northern greeting indicating a friend is approaching. 

“Who approaches?” said the older guard with the handlebar moustache. 

“Lord Howland Reed, Son of Lord Alaric Reed of Greywater Watch. I must speak with my Liege, Lord Rickard Stark of Winterfell immediately,” said Howland. “It is regarding the defense of this castle.”

The junior guard went inside as Howland stood there for a what seemed like a relatively long time. He had actually watched the sunset during this time and watched the door open for some of the steward’s staff to begin lighting the torchlights around the castles, passing him on the bridge enroute to the library. After what seemed like a good hour and a half, the junior guard returned with two more guards who escorted Howland into the keep and directed him down the hall towards Lord Rickard Stark’s solar. Lord Rickard Stark was already seated at his desk with Maester Walys sitting in one of the chairs across the desk. Lord Rodrik Glover was sitting in the room as well. 

“Young Lord Howland Reed,” said Lord Rickard Stark. “Before we begin, Lord Rodrik Glover here as well as Lady Maege Mormont did request some consultation with a greenseer. I had received word from your father that you have developed quite a talent for such but have not completed the trials. Perhaps you may at least be able to pave the way for one to provide such services if they are amongst your father’s convoy heading here soon. ”

Howland nodded, “I shall be honored to, Lord Rickard Stark, after my business is concluded with you this evening.” Howland figured he was risking a breach of protocol in making demands but the issue was too important to dwell on Lordly formalities, “But I’m afraid I must ask for services of your Maester to send a Raven to Greywater Watch for my father to delay his departure in order to intercept a convoy heading up the Kingsroad currently for Winterfell.” 

Lord Rickard Stark leaned back in his chair seemingly intrigued by Howland’s statement. Howland however knew that Crannogmen rarely engaged in idle conversation when there is something of vital importance to be discussed.  “Please explain, and do not leave out any details,” replied Lord Rickard Stark.

“This also involves your future Gooddaughter Lady Barbrey,” began Howland Reed. “I was practicing my greensight, peering into various events in history and taking advantage of being near as venerable and wizened a weirwood as the Heart Tree in Winterfell’s Godswood, when I saw your gooddaughter appear in one of my visions. She has no innate talent for the greensight so my guess is this is the work of the Old Gods.  At any rate, the Old Gods had sent her to the Godswood and I took her on a greensight journey to wherever the Old Gods willed.”

Maester Walys sat back listening respectfully, although, being a learned man of the Citadel, Howland could see the skepticism in the Maester’s eyes. Magic is a concept hostile to the Maester’s sensibilities, thought Howland. But to those not knowledgeable in certain subjects to which they earn their links to their chains, does not that knowledge seem like magic as well?

”We did see you and Lord Jon Arryn discussing Lord Eddard Stark as well as your alliances and the need for a betrothal of Eddard to a Nothern Bride before the location and time changed at the will of the Old Gods to the clearing at the southern edge of the Northern Mountains in the Wolfswood,” continued Howland. “Royce Bolton is commanding an army of I’m guessing around 2000 men-at-arms with possibly half as many cavalry. I didn’t get a good count of the number of horses but I estimated. I did see several wagons with what may be parts to siege engines to be assembled.”

Lord Rickard Stark nodded, “So Rogar’s made his move...”  He looked to Maester Walys, “Looks like that Raven I was going to send when House Karstark arrives will get sent early.”  Lord Rickard Stark leaned forward on his desk, folding his hands, “I wish him the best of luck though in attempting to lay siege to Winterfell.” 

Howland Reed shook his head, “I do not believe that is Royce Bolton’s plan. He specifically said the following : Lazoquo Ostelion of Myr and his company of sellswords, The Spears of Damnation, will be meeting them in the clearing of the Wolfswood just North of Winterfell after travelling North on the Kingsroad with some of the key supplies for their strategy. They will wait for his brother Rogar Bolton to leave the keep through the Hunter’s Gate before they make their first move against Winterfell.”

“What was his first move going to be?”

“I’m unsure but if I were to hazard a guess, Summerhall comes to mind. I remember him, just before ....”  Howland swallowed, becoming slightly nauseous at the thought of Royce Bolton and his lady’s favorite pasttimes, “....just before they were about to torture and flay the woods witch they had captured, he had said,  ‘I wouldn’t worry about Winterfell. Our friend Lazoquo Ostelion of Myr and the Spears of Damnation are bringing us a gift which will make that unfortunate accident Lazoquo’s employer, Vidar Tarraenos’ lover survived back in ‘59 in the Stormlands look like a small campfire. I will be the envy of the shades of my namesake as Winterfell is bathed in a green glow as it burns to the ground and the Red Kings rise again.’” 

Lord Rickard Stark became very uncomfortable in his seat shifting slightly, “So the Boltons are planning on burning down Winterfell with wildfire like that disaster the Targaryens had at Summerhall, eh?”

Maester Walys stated, “Given the size of Winterfell they would need....”

Rickard Stark thought for a moment, “Most likely they’re using that to perhaps breach the outer walls or inner walls across the moat.. Wildfire from what I hear is powerful but Summerhall is much smaller than Winterfell and was very lightly fortified. But even then they’d need....”  Lord Rickard Stark looked to Maester Walys who looked as though he was calculating something in his head. 

Maester Walys spoke up, “Perhaps the target is not necessarily Winterfell itself..... Lord Howland Reed mentioned Lazoquo Ostelion of Myr and the Spears of Damnation. That is a Essosi sellsword company who operates out of Myr but have ties back to the very well-to-do Houses behind the Black Walls in Volantis, as did ... “

Lord Rickard Stark nodded, “The Depraved Jackals, a company of sellswords out of Tyrosh whose chief income was slavery.”

Howland Reed asked, “I assume that they were...”  He knew where this may have been going. 

“They were the Tyroshi who were operating in the Vale. Lord Jon Arryn took out most of their operations, but my son Eddard killed most of their members who were on the business end of the slaver business during his escape. Zakaro the Dorthraki was one of the newer members of the Depraved Jackals,” said Lord Rickard Stark. He looked off in the distance for a while. “Theon Snow....”, he said distantly, stopping whilst still in thought.

Maester Walys said, “One of the Captains of Lord Beron Karstark’s guards, I presume?”

“No, Son of the Wolfmother,” said Lord Rickard Stark, “One of the Captains for the Company of the Rose. He warned me, writing in his raven to me, ‘Lord Arryn has purged his land of the Tyroshi Slavers but their Volantene client from behind the Black Walls of Volantis, Vidar Tarraenos felt he was robbed of his prize, a pit fighter with true First Men blood and gifts from the Old Gods.’”

Maester Walys shook his head, “That doesn’t add up. For a slave for the fighting pits, backing a mass assassination of every Lord in the North would leave the North in total chaos. Unless .... “  He looked toward Lord Rickard Stark, “Did Theon Snow say anything else regarding Vidar Tarraenos?”

Lord Rickard Stark looked at Maester Walys, “He did mention he’d heard whispers that there is a connection of some form between the Targaryen Crown and Vidar Tarraenos.” 

Maester Walys nodded then looked to Howland Reed, as he said,  “You said Royce Bolton mentioned something about Vidar Tarraenos’ lover survived Summerhall back in ‘59. Obviously referencing one of the surviving Targaryens. The Tragedy of Summerhall was a desparate attempt to bring dragons back by House Targaryen.”  Maester Walys leaned forward looking to both Lord Rickard Stark, “Dragons were not only the sigil of House Targaryen but also the only reason they held really any power. The Targaryens always had a saying : Zaldrīzes buzdari iksos daor.  A dragon is not a slave. I’d say they’re accurate in that aspect. A more accurate statement for them would be : Iā zaldrīzes iksis iā egros skori daorys tolie than ao ēza mēre. “

“A dragon is a weapon to use when no one other than you has one,” translated Lord Rickard Stark. 

“Exactly, the Targaryens lost the means to truly enforce their will when their dragons degenerated and died out, “ stated Maester Walys. “Other than frankly political habit and courtly politics, there’s nothing really keeping the Seven Kingdoms together and keeping them in power. Given what the North has done relatively covertly in the years since you became Lord of Winterfell and Warden of the North, the North will most likely be the first to declare independence. The moment we do, there will be war.”  

Howland Reed listened as did Lord Rickard Stark. Maester Walys continued, “My prediction is if King Aerys’ successor is an intelligent king, he will most likely realize he will be facing a North which is economically independent with good relations with its the Vale and the Riverlands,  defenses on both coasts both in the naval realm as well as highly trained armies, not to mention a fully completed Moat Caillin effectively sealing off any land route for invasion.  Most likely word of at least one or two of your sons being Wargs has reached the crown. It may be a curiosity for the current Crown we hope and nothing to worry about but the moment they realize Eddard controls an entire pack of the most dangerous apex predator in  this region of Westeros, what do you think their reaction will be?”

Maester Walys states, “Eddard is the target, yes, but not for the reasons you may think. He controls a large pack of direwolves in the Wolfswood. I’m speculating that the Targaryens see the Starks essentially having control of a living sigil which can also be used as a weapon, and that will not do as far as they’re concerned. Direwolves are potentially the Stark’s ‘dragons’ if you will. ”

Lord Rickard Stark nodded, “And the North tears itself apart in a civil war where House Bolton and House Stark knock the North back down a few notches to the level we were the first winter after they took our farmland from us. The Targaryens backing Rogar Bolton and his brothers covertly to ensure they come out on top initially so that the smallfolk and the few surviving nobles will be calling on the Crown and House Targaryen to return to save them from House Bolton.  It makes sense but....it’s pure speculation at this point without any proof, Maester Walys.”

Maester Walys seemed to object, “King Aerys isn’t the sort who will do that sort of thing covertly. If he’d suspected he would have sent a raven demanding I put to death all direwolves within his realms. I’d hazard a guess he’d also order us to kill them all beyond the wall as well.”  Lord Rickard Stark chuckled darkly, “No, more accurately this is Rogar Bolton looking to take House Stark down a few notches and extinguish us except for perhaps a puppet.  He hired some sellswords who happened to know a source they could get wildfire from and then show up at the Iron Bank afterwards to claim all of the gold from the Stark accounts and withdraw some to pay the sellswords off.”

Maester Walys states, “Perhaps it is the Targaryens but it wasn’t Aerys. It could be....”

“Queen Rhaella? Doubtful. She’s a broken battered woman, not exactly in a position to continue an ongoing affair with a Volantene archon,” retorted Lord Rickard Stark. Howland looked between the two noting that there were truths in both his liege lord’s and his liege lord’s Maester’s statements. “At any rate the point being that a warg controlling a pack isn’t going to be as much of a threat as a dragon. Basically you get a few extra soldiers that are much larger, much stronger and much faster which can possibly be used in berserker style attacks but that’s about the extent of their usefulness. Packs are what....five male wolves plus their mates, litters, and one or two older wolves?  maybe ten males?”

Lord Rickard Stark looked to Lord Rodrik Glover, who stated “The pack whose alpha Lord Eddard Stark was able to warg into was about eight to ten, possibly larger. But that would not constitute any sizeable military strength.”

Lord Rickard Stark raised his hands demonstratively as he leaned back, “So there you have it....”

Lord Rodrik Glover raised his hand briefly, “Lord Rickard Stark, This may be relevant. I had a talk with some of your rangers, Lord Rickard, a short time ago. That group of direwolves that came in with Eddard seem to have scattered. Those direwolves were all rather distinctive looking and they were observed going off in different directions once they reached the Wolfswood. That isn’t normal behaviour for a direwolf pack alpha and his lieutenants.”

Howland looked to Lord Rodrik Glover, asking rather curiously, “What will the Lords of the North be doing when they leave Winterfell? They will be heading in different directions too back to their castles.”

Lord Rodrik Glover looked at the young Crannogman, “I see where you’re going with this.You’re implying that those were alphas of multiple packs?” 

At this moment, Lyanna entered the room unannounced with a very concerned look on her face. Lord Rickard Stark noticed this and looked over, “Lya, is something the matter? What are you doing up this late at the Hour of the Wolf?”

Lyanna looked concerned and briefly towards Howland Reed, “Something’s odd with Eddard. Got back from hanging out with Benjen and Dacey and noticed Eddard’s door was open. He’s just lying there. The grey in his eyes are gone and Barbrey refuses to leave his side....I.....”

Lord Rickard Stark looked to Maester Walys, “Okay. Let’s get those ravens sent to Lord Alaric Reed and Theon Snow. Lord Howland I trust you’ve already written the raven?”

Howland nodded, pulling a parchment note out of his tunic with the message to his father, sealed already, and handing it to Lord Rickard Stark. Lord Rickard Stark replied,  “Go with Lyanna and see to my son Eddard.”

“If you don’t mind I’d like to see how my ... Lord Eddard Stark is doing....” said Lord Rodrik Glover. Howland and Lyanna gestured him forth as they departed the solar, parting ways with Maester Walys and Lord Rickard Stark.  

TIBURON, A BOLTON SOLDIER
Very Late Evening, 18th day, 10th Moon,  280 A.C.

Tiburon grabbed his mace and sat down by the campfire near the edge of the wagons. He and his men were charged with assembling and manning the siege towers that would be used to scale the outer walls of Winterfell. His unit would be handling the western side. Mostly smallfolk and livestock past the inner wall on their side so they weren't going to feel the brunt of the assault like those heading from the North, East and South which would feel heavier resistance mainly due to the location of the guards and armories.

Tiburon sat down next to Lom and Damon, two rather large swarthy men who also preferred blunt weapons for attack.

Lom grabbed one of several rabbits skewered over the fire and bit into one, masticating a large chunk as Damon looked at him, "Guess you've worked up an appetite today on latrine duty at sunset."

Lom said between chews, "Don't rub it in. Only because I called Tiburon here an nice pet dog to that sick fuck we're employed by."

Tiburon looked at Lom, "You want latrine duty tomorrow?"

Lom replied, "No, Tiburon."

Tiburon responded, "Then shut it. I don't plan working for Royce Bolton any more than I have to, but promised a bunch of us positions on the Sunset Sea. Lots of nice girls with nice big teats and shapely arses up near Ironrath from wot I 'ear.”  Tiburon pulled out his aleskin and took a swig passing it over to Damon after saying, “So I say more fucking power to ‘im.”  

Tiburon saw Damon continually looking at something towards the tents and near the where the horse tents were. Tiburon said, “Whatcha looking at so intently?”

“Thought I saw some...movement down near the archers’ tents and part of the cavalry horse tents....” replied Damon. Tiburon looked in the direction. The night was very dark the only light being the occasional torchlight, so it was difficult. He was seeing large black shapes moving against the slightly less black background of the night.  “We really should check it out.”  Damon grabbed 

Damon began walking towards the horse tents as Lom and Tiburon followed him. Tiburon then began to hear the horses becoming skittish, bucking in their stalls they tore loose from their restraints and began running outward from the camp. Tiburon thought for a moment that seemed odd.  Tiburon said emphatically, “Draw your weapons. We’re being ambushed.”

As they approached the Tiburon could hear the growls and snarls of what sounded like an increasing number of wolves punctuated by the occasional screams of soldiers as they were being ripped apart . The snarls seemed to be lower pitched as 

Suddenly Damon stopped in his track and yelled his last words, “By the Old Gods! Fuck me!” As the torch fell from his hand, Damon was immediately silenced as the maw of a full sized direwolf closed around his skull with a snap, crushing it like an overripe melon. Damon’s headless body fell over backwards as Lom and Tiburon backpedalled attempting to get away from the giant canine. Lom ran one way and Tiburon ran the other circling around towards the archers’ tents, his goal being the command tents beyond. 

Tiburon passed by an a campfire still burning near the archers tents, or what was left of them, as he ran across the ground which was slick with the entrails of what he assumed had once been the archers. He  headed as fast as he could  towards the command tents, slipping occasionally on the ground now slick with entrails and blood and mud.  

Tiburon had reached the Royce Bolton’s tent, which oddly seemed an oasis in the chaos occurring outside. Royce Bolton was standing there in just his smallclothes.  Tiburon could see that he had finished flaying and skinning the woods witch that Lady Abagal had captured. Tiburon remember Lord Royce had stated that Lady Abagal herself had been murdered by the woods witch using her magicks. 

“Lord Royce Bolton, we’re under attack by....”

“Direwolves,” said Royce Bolton. “Yes I know.”  Royce Bolton quickly stabbed Tiburon through the throat with his flaying knives and then pulled both out rapidly letting Tiburon collapse on the floor bleeding out. The last thought going through Tiburon’s head as the world went black on him was noting someone was removing his armor. 

ROYCE BOLTON I
Early Morning, 19th day, 10th Moon,  280 A.C.

Royce stayed in his tent after killing one of his lieutenants and stealing his armor. Perhaps he could escape the Old Gods' wrath for the death of the woods witch who cursed him by wearing another man's clothing and his face. He had flayed his lieutenant's face from his skull enough to make somewhat of a mask so he could disguise himself. The sun appeared to be rising as he could see the first rays of light over hill which connected the clearing to the Kingsroad.

Upon leaving the tent, Royce kept low and quiet as he surveyed the carnage as he moved towards the Kingsroad. All the tents were dismantled, torn apart and trampled into the ground. Bodies of his troops or what was left of such littered the campsite. In the distance across the clearing towards the west he could see the escaped horses of the cavalry oddly grazing. Nearer to him he saw the the shapes of several destrier-sized direwolves, numbering more than any wolf pack he had seen before. He counted at least twenty ferally pacing the outskirts of the campsite and surveying the carnage they unleashed on his army.

Royce saw a gap towards the Kingsroad where no direwolves were and took the opportunity to make his escape running as fast as he could. It appeared as though the direwolves paid him no attention. He was almost to the base of the hill beyond which lay the kingsroad when he felt something hit him hard from behind.

Royce fell to the ground flat on his face, the wind knocked out of him. As he got up and regained his composure he found himself completely surrounded. Royce counted at least one hundred direwolves surrounding him in a circle around 100 yards in diameter. One of the direwolves, a large one with dark grey almost black fur with a heavily scarred snout began walking towards Royce who was still kneeling on the ground. 

The dark direwolf merely stared at Royce with its cold icy grey eyes but didn’t bare its teeth for some odd reason. It raised one of its front paws and put such on Royce’s face pulling off the mask made from his lieutenants’ skin.  Royce stood as the large dark direwolf continued to stare at him for a few moments, until it turned its head in the direction of the Kingsroad.  

The circle of direwolves parted to allow Royce through as the large dark direwolf seemed to be herding him in that direction. Royce slowly walked forward cautiously until he heard the larged dark direwolf give a quick but loud and guttural snarl. Royce then ran as fast as he could for the Kingsroad. The direwolves did not pursue him however. By the time he had reached the Kingsroad he collapsed next to a large boulder. 

It was then that Royce hear the deafening howl of the direwolves from clearing. As the howling subsided, Royce passed out from exhaustion. He awoke hours later at sunset and began to head south along the Kingsroad towards Winterfell. 

Chapter Text

EDDARD II
Near Dawn, 19th day, 10th Moon,  280 A.C.

The Dark Direwolf came up to the top of the hill to address the group of over one hundred and thirty male direwolves gathered around the hill’s base to the peak. He addressed his fellow brother alphas and their respective packs stating, “We have defeated those who would hunt us down and threaten the pack of the hairless one who is speaking to me from afar and our brother ‘First Son of the Seeker of the New Forest' from the giant stone den between the wood and the river. The hairless one who speaks to me from afar gives all the packs his eternal gratitude from his pack. May we now return to our mates and our pups to continue our lives as the gods who speak to us through the white-barked trees with dark leaves had intended.”  The Dark Direwolf walked down the hill as his own pack brothers joined him and he gave some friendly chuffs to the pure white alpha of the ‘Pack of the Woods near the Sea and Stony Cliffs’ before they returned. His eyes began to flash from the cold icy grey to golden.  Eddard Stark felt himself being pulled back into his body briefly. 

Eddard  blinked a few times noting his eyes were feeling incredibly dry. He noticed he couldn’t really sit up right away as he saw a mass of dark brown hair still neatly braided laying on his shoulder. Eddard then felt himself briefly pulled into the consciousness of another direwolf. 

Through Cregan’s eyes he saw he was leading his mate as well as two younger male direwolves and their respective mates. They were nearing the edge of the Wolfswood around a league northwest of the Hunter’s Gate of Winterfell as he could see Winterfell in the distance quite clearly. 

Eddard then came back to himself and was in the bed. He looked to Barbrey who had fallen asleep watching him on his shoulder. She had changed clothing since he had begun warging an hour after the sunset the previous night, and seemed to be dressed in a simple black gown with greyish white trim. Eddard attempted to sit up but felt weak, he tapped Barbrey on the shoulder with his right hand. 

“Barbrey...” said Eddard weakly as his betrothed stirred.

Barbrey sat up slowly and swung her feet around so she was sitting up on the edge of the bed with her still booted feet on the floor. After rubbing her eyes briefly, she turned to look to Eddard, holding out her hand to touch Eddard’s face softly, “Ek em bliðr til sjá þú aptr með oss, minn Konungr ór Vetr.”

Eddard smiled briefly, “Kregan ok hans víf munu kombráttr” Eddard shifted back to Common Tongue, “I need to get up to ... “

Barbrey stood up and stated, “You’re not going anywhere. You need to rest. You are most likely very hungry.” She walked over to the settee in the corner and touched a barely asleep Lyanna on the shoulder saying briefly, “Eddard’s back One of you may want to also let Lord Rodrik know as well. He left just a short time ago to get some breakfast from the kitchens and then go change for greeting his brother this morning when House Glover arrives .”  Lyanna quickly got up and nudged Howland Reed who was oddly comfortably snoozing whilst seated on a small wooden footstool. 

Howland looked over at Eddard, “Ah, you’re back Eddard. I know you’ve been warging but ... “

Eddard weakly stated, “No need to worry about Royce Bolton anymore....or at least his army...”

Howland’s eyes narrowed briefly, “Cregan ?”

Eddard shook his head, still weary, “No it was his pack brother, the new alpha to Cregan’s old pack, the dark furred one with the big scar on his snout, 'Dark Second Son of the Seeker's Mate's Brother'”  He sat up weakly, “I need to get to Hunter’s Gate to greet Cregan and his mate and ... “

Howland looked to Lyanna and then Barbrey, “Babrey can go greet the direwolves returning to Winterfell.”  Barbrey raised her eyebrow and gave a cross look towards Howland. Eddard looked slightly cross at Howland for suggesting it as Howland stated, “I know how you are with warging especially when over a long distance. I remember you being up all night a few days ago. You weren’t exactly at your peak of health afterwards.” Howland shifted his weight, “Not to mention if what I think happened did happen, you’re exhausted from the activity your mind felt the direwolf’s body engaging in all night.”

Barbrey seemed hesitant looking towards Eddard then towards Howland and Lyanna.  Eddard looked towards Howland noting that Howland seemed to have more he wished to talk about. 

Eddard nodded towards Barbrey, “Take them to the Godswood after they arrive. I’ll try to be down after getting some rest and some food from the kitchens.” Eddard seemed to relent as he couldn’t argue. Cregan was already very familiar with Barbrey and had seemed to be viewing her as more than just pack last night during his departure. 

Lyanna piped up, looking to Barbrey, “I’ll go with you if you want.”  

Barbrey shook her head, “No, you’ll have to be greeting your brother Brandon along with House Manderly, Locke, Hornwood, and a few others in a few hours at the South Gate.”  It seemed unspoken that Barbrey was not ready to face Brandon without Eddard there with her. 

Lyanna being essentially a sister to Barbrey understood and responded, “Okay. You may end up running into House Umber, House Glover, House Mormont and the Mountain Clans as they’re supposed to arrive in the morning soon as well. Don’t be surprised if you see my father there with his guards and the staff prepared for the traditional Guest greetings.”

Barbrey nodded before turning to Eddard, “Are you sure you’re going to be okay?”

“Ek munu munu reisiligr, minn dróttning,” replied Eddard. Barbrey smiled briefly before she bent over and kissed Eddard’s cheek with a brief embrace. Lyanna looked somewhat surprised at Barbrey as Barbrey proceeded to grab her heavy cloak still draped over the chest at the foot of the bed. Eddard mused that he would have enjoyed the kiss she gave him before he warged into Dark Second Son of the Seeker's Mate's Brother'  Lyanna and Barbrey both left the room about this time. 

Howland had evidently also watched the exchange between Barbrey and Eddard as he said, “I think it’s fair to say you and your betrothed are getting along splendidly.”

Eddard groaned, still weary, “I’m feeling more comfortable around her after our conversation yesterday.”

Howland stated in Old Tongue, “Ek sjá þú hafkröllumk hanþinnr dróttning..  Dróttning ór Ryllan?” Eddard nodded indicating the affiemative as Howland continued, “Not surprising actually given I’ve seen the last Queen of House Ryder during my greensight and she’s the spitting image of Queen Ygertha Ryder.”  Howland paused for a moment, “Even down to that expression she has on her face when someone says something unwise.” 

Eddard chuckled, “Gamallrinn Goðar gerlítar til gab oss.” 

Howland nodded, “I wouldn’t say that. I’d say they prefer the ironic symmetry. Queen Ygertha gave her life to save Theon the Hungry Wolf as a child. Later King Theon had ended House Ryder and almost did so with House Bolton if it wasn’t for the Andal Invasion. And the Old Gods seem to have chosen the last direct female descendant of the last Queen of House Ryder to be the future of House Stark.”

Eddard shrugged, “Well I like her no matter what the Old Gods say. At any rate, House Stark will also continue through whatever children my brother Brandon and Lady Catelyn have as well as through the children of Benjen and I’m assuming Lady Dacey.”

Howland merely said , “Perhaps.”  Eddard noticed there was a slight dismissive tone to Howland’s voice. Eddard had realized that being a greenseer he could see possible futures so his answers to such might be noncomittal. 

Eddard lay back down on the bed exhausted, “I spared Royce Bolton however. He’s no Crannogman or Ranger. He’ll stick to the Kingsroad and most likely be picked up by the convoy from House Karstark or he’ll arrive down here starved and desperate. Given he’s in Bolton armor that’s been bloodied, the occasional smallfolk and merchants will most likely pass him by, avoiding him. He will be attempting to head to Winterfell to rendezvous with his brother Rogar.”

“Why did you spare him?” asked Howland thoughtfully. 

“Why does one spare any officer in an opposing army?” responded Eddard. “We need information from him. If he’s captured by the Karstarks or arrives in Winterfell, we will deliver him switfly to our dungeons upon arrival. My father will know what to do from there.”  Eddard yawned briefly before asking, “Assuming your father and the Lords of the Neck will be intercepting Lazoquo Ostelion of Myr and his company?”

Howland nodded, “Yes. Your father’s Maester sent the raven before your sister and I arrived in your room last night.” 

“Good,” stated Eddard as his eyelids became heavier again and he drifted back to sleep. 

BARBREY III
Early Morning, 19th day, 10th Moon,  280 A.C.

Barbrey emerged from the Glass Gardens into the Northern Ward. The sun was rising and already there was a bustle of activity near the Hunter’s Gate of the South Ward with a grand table being setup near the Guest House Entrance for the Guest Rights Ceremony along with the guards and staff arranging queues for the greeting of the convoy as well.  

Barbrey stopped for a moment near the kennels and sat down for a moment as she felt slightly woozy. She felt her perspective shift to a seemingly colorless view of Winterfell approaching the edge of the treeline from the northwest. She could see the Winterefell in the distance as she was moving closer and could make out the Kingsroad in the distance as well as the smaller road which led to the Hunter’s Gate. The view briefly changed to a view of Cregan briefly as a feeling of warmth and love came through her. Barbrey heard the thoughts in her head in Old Tongue, “Vér munu sjá hvergi fleiri brátt, minn balðeinn systir”  It only lasted a few seconds before she regained her composure. What the hell was that?   

Barbrey got up and continued walking towards the Hunter’s Gate.  As she came nearer the gate, Ser Rodrik Cassel was ordering one of his guards, “Don’t worry about leaving room for wheelhouses . We may have to worry about that with the Karstarks and Boltons when they arrive and they will be arriving in the South Gate. It will be just horses and some smaller wagons for some of their heavier belongings for this lot.”   He took notice of Barbrey as she was passing and came up to her. 

“Lady Barbrey,” said Ser Rodrik Cassel. “I took the liberty of offering a temporary position in our guards to Harlen and Chev whilst you’re here. It seems you’re already well protected by your betrothed and his...direwolf.”

Barbrey smiled, “That I am.”

“If you are leaving Winterfell, my Lady, I will have to insist on some guards escorting you,” stated the middle aged Master-at-Arms. Barbrey noted she did not require such given who she was expecting to arrive and opened her mouth to protest , but was quickly silenced by the response of a new voice. 

“We’ll escort our future goodsister,” said a young man’s voice from behind her. Benjen approached wearing a more formal outfit in grey and white along with a along with a black leather doublet, his cloak fastened with a silver direwolf clasp. Dacey was standing next to him wearing what appeared to be another one of what appeared to be Lyanna’s old gowns, this one a black and grey one with a black leather bodice. She had a heavy cloak made from sable with a clasp which depicted the House Mormont sigil.  Shadow was right next to Benjen chuffing with enthusiasm. “Lord Eddard’s direwolf is returning with his mate.”

Ser Rodrik Cassel nodded, saying with some doubt in his voice,  “I suppose that will be okay.”  

Barbrey began towards the gate with Benjen and Dacey, Shadow running ahead as they crossed the drawbridge over the moat to the outer gatehouse. Once outside Barbrey began looking Northwest towards the treeline. 

“You seem to know where they’re coming from,” said Dacey, curious as Barbrey found herself putting her right hand over her brow to shield the rays of the morning sun from her eyes. Barbrey noticed Benjen looking at her curiously as well. 

“When did it happen?” asked Benjen. Barbrey knew what he was referring to. The first warging. 

“Just a few moments before I began talking to Ser Rodrik Cassel, I felt like I was about to faint so I sat down and all of the sudden I was elsewhere in the Wolfswood," replied Barbrey.

"Pretty odd too when you feel your body is not your own as well," added Benjen. "I

"I didn't have that feeling. I could feel the bench beneath my hands, the draft of the cold Northern air where my cloak does not cover, on my body as I still sat on the bench trying to steady myself," said Barbrey with a very concerned look. "I did hear a voice in my head however speaking in Old Tongue of all things calling me sister."

"Hmmmm....that's not warging," said Benjen as the continued out the gatehouse to the outer wall. "That's something else I'm guessing. Did you see anything else?"

"Just before I heard the voice I saw Cregan and felt some feeling of comfort and ... home ... I ... I ... " said Barbrey. "I had a similar feeling with Eddard before I kissed him last night, just before he himself warged into ... Dark Second Son of ... "

Benjen laughed looking at Dacey briefly, "Must be something with being near Eddard then....I ... don't know... "

Dacey hit Benjen on the shoulder, "Lord Benjen, I like you a lot but I've noticed you don't know everything." Dacey looked at Barbrey, "Benjen's brother Eddard is a powerful warg is bonded with Cregan. That was Creagan's mate whose eyes you were looking through. My guess is she's bonded with you for reasons known only to the Old Gods."

Benjen rubbed his shoulder saying to Dacey, "Did you have to hit me?"  Dacey didn't respond looking at Benjen with a knowing smile.

Barbrey smiled briefly at the exchange before saying, "We'll see when they arrive."  The three of them along with Shadow stopped at a lone large oak near the fork in the road, where one path let to the Wolfswood and the other to the Kingsroad. Barbrey looked to the distance and could see some large shapes emerge from the Wolfswood. Shadow yelped in excitement as Barbrey counted six distinct direwolves headed their way. She could make out Cregan with his greyish-white fur running with a slightly smaller direwolf running next to him which was a darker grey almost black. Barbrey felt unsteady for a moment as her vision changed again.

Barbrey saw herself, Benjen, Dacey and Shadow through the darker grey direwolf from a hundred yards away and closing. It was only a couple of seconds and she felt an unexplainable emotion move through her during the time.

The small pack of direwolves stopped at the lone oak tree as Shadow went to greet them in a normal direwolf fashion. Barbrey stepped forward towards the darker grey female direwolf who moved towards Barbrey herself. The darker grey direwolf looked into Barbrey's eyes with her emerald green eyes and chuffed slightly before putting her left forepaw gently on Barbrey's shoulder as Barbrey embraced the direwolf in a hug. "Þat er góð til eptir allr þessi tími  sjá þú, Lynara" said Barbrey quietly as Lynara and Barbrey remained in the embrace for a good minute or two before Cregan had snorted towards Lynara.

Lynara put her left forepaw back on the ground as Barbrey turned around to see Eddard standing at the entrance to the Hunter's Gate along with his sister Lyanna and Howland Reed. Barbrey walked with Benjen and Dacey back to the Hunter's gate with the seven direwolves.  Barbrey noticed Lyanna had a couple of maids with her as well.

Eddard was dressed much the same as Benjen, wearing what appeared to be a formal outfit. He looked weary.

Eddard gave Barbrey a brief embrace and a kiss on her forehead before reaching his had towards Cregan, embracing his bonded direwolf, "So you've brought your two youngest brothers and their mates." Cregan snorted briefly in what could be considered the equivalent of a shrug. "Godswood should be large enough," Eddard said out loud. He looked to Barbrey as Lyanna stepped forwards with the two maids holding one of the gowns she had brought for the formal gatherings and welcomings.

"Father wants us both to be ready to greet this group of Lords which should be arriving within a couple of hours.," said Eddard. Barbrey nodded as it made perfect sense.

"He wants to instill confidence in them that House Stark still controls the Sunset Coast." replied Barbrey.  "We will greet them with Lord Rodrik Glover standing with us as I assume he will still be our Castellan at Sea Dragon's Point."

Eddard nodded, "And Cregan will stand beside me as he is a Stark as well."

Barbrey looked deep into Eddard's eyes as Lynara walked close to her and sat beside Barbrey, "Sem munu Lynarmeðr minn hlið, fyrir vér erum dróttningar hverr eru með þeirkonungrarr." 

Eddard nodded with a smile as the group returned to inside Winterfell.

Chapter Text

THEON SNOW I
Morning, 19th day, 10th Moon,  280 A.C.

The howling stopped about an hour earlier and Theon Snow, son of the Wolfmother, smoothed his fiery red beard as he urged his destrier forward. From the maps there was a clearing across from the northern portion of Long Lake with plenty of grazing ground for the horses and the unicorns in the smaller contingent from House Crowl, House Magnar and House Stane. Theon forged ahead with a few scouts from his troops as well as House Karstark’s.

The sun was well over the field, but the sight Theon saw was unusual. He rode to the top of the hill to get a better look and directed the men to look spread out and survey the area. He looked to the Karstark soldier, Oleg, and said, “What do you make of it?”

“Looks like there was a war camp here at one time. Enough for about a couple thousand men-at-arms and archers,” Oleg stated from atop his mount, “Possibly half as many cavalry given all the horses I’m seeing in the distance.” 

Theon nodded, “Tents have been all flattened by something and are in dissarray, but the wagons with  what I’m assuming are supplies and some of the larger wagons containing the unassembled siege towers. We’ll have to look among them to see whose banner they fly.”

Theon and Oleg rode down into what was left of the camp. It was odd. If this was an ambush there would have been scorch marks and the tents would have been burned. He could see cooking fires burned down and still smoking on the outskirts of the camp. As they got near the tents, Theon initially scratched his head looking at the puddles near the tents until it dawned on him what they were. The puddles were not of water but of water and other liquids evacuated from the bodies strewn about with the remnants of the tents.  Flies were already buzzing around the hundreds of corpses and crows already began to arrive in great numbers to feed on the carnage.  Theon knew this all too well as the aftermath of a rather bloody battle.

This was not a scene of an ambush by a normal army of men. Oleg examined one of the bodies. It was a rather large man whose head had been ripped off at the neck after being crushed like an overripe fruit. Theon noticed the vertebrae themselves and they showed jagged edges and pieces of bone strewn around as if it was not a clean cut. Theon had seen this sort of thing on smaller prey animals with the red wolves along the wilderness along the Rhoyne or the tigers of the Forests of Qohor.  

Theon saw some muddied banners of House Bolton  on the ground which confirmed the identity of the army. Based on the sigil, the inverted black flayed man outlined in red crucified on an X on pale pink background indicated House Bolton of Condon Castle. This was Royce Bolton’s army, or what was left of them.  

“I think I found out who or rather what did this,” said Oleg. “Take a look at these tracks, Captain Snow. What does that look like to you?”  Theon looked at the set of tracks in the mud . He recognized the pattern made by a wolf’s paw pads with the triangular ‘palm’ of the pad with the four ovoids crowning it and the claw marks above the ovoids. However, a normal Rhoynish Red Wolf or Westerosi Grey Wolf tracks were at most half a foot in length. These were over twice that and deeper indicating the wolf itself was also massively heavy. 

Theon said out loud in a slightly fearful voice , “Direwolves.  Seven fucking hells.”  An enture army of at least two thousand men massacred by direwolves. Most likely a big pack as well. Hundred or more attacking all at once. Must have been over in mere minutes, he thought. 

Oleg overheard Theon’s commentary and responded, “Direwolves? Then how come the horses are untouched? A lot of good meat there if I was a hungry direwolf.”

Theon nodded, “Agreed. It is suspicious. If I were a betting man I'd say this was the work of a powerful warg. However, my main concern is the sheer number of direwolf tracks. Several packs in tandem in a coordinated effort can be handled by a warg, but if they are all still nearby I'd hate to be next."  Theon looked to  Oleg before looking over to the area which may have been the command tent area. “I have my suspicions on whose tent left standing that might be. That may explain more what happened here if we go investigate."

As they approached the large still standing tent, both men looked inside as it was an affront to the Old Gods. "It is fairly obvious why the direwolves left this tent alone. This is cursed."  They both were disgusted by the tent which was constructed from  sewn together and dried human skins stretched over a heavy sailcloth backing. There was indeed blood everywhere around a body of a man on the floor, dressed in what appeared to be a lord's armor. Oleg stated, "I think we found Royce Bolton."

Theon turned the body over to look at the face which had been carved off leaving a skinless visage with dead unblinking amber coloured eyes. "Not Royce or any Bolton, based on those eyes alone. Odd that Royce would flay one of his own men however," said Theon as he looked around. He came upon the body of a woman who had just been flayed as well as her skin being set out to dry. There was a greyish white gown splattered with dried blood as well as a belt made of weirwood fiber rope and what looked like a crown made of weirwood leaves.

Oleg gasped as he saw this, "Weirwood Wylla! He fucking flayed Weirwood Wylla!  He's definitely cursed by the Old Gods for doing that. That woods witch was nothing but kind to any traveller who neeed healing."

Theon said stoically, "Well that would explain the direwolves not touching this place."  Theon was busy sorting through some papers on a nearby table, looking mostly like raven notes and battle maps. He appeared to be reading over them. He began to get concerned as he was doing so. The Boltons were planning something huge against House Stark itself. 

Oleg said again, "I said he's defniitely cursed by the ... "

Theon interrupted him, "Heard you the first time." He then looked around a bit more not wanting to spend any more time in that tent than he wanted to. "I'm heading back to the convoy as I will have to inform Winterfell of what we found here." He paused for a moment a she secured the documents he had found in the tent within a pouch meant for such found on the same table. "I'll also send some men back to wrangle the Bolton horses back. We'll be delayed as we'll most likely want to have a ceremony to burn the bodies and send for a greenseer or woodswitch to consecrate and lift the curse on this land.  In the meantime, I will need you and the rest of the men already here to secure the area and be on the lookout for direwolves."

Oleg nodded, "Aye Captain Theon. You think Royce Bolton's still alive?"

"To be honest, he's in a position where He'll be wishing he wasn't," stated Theon in a deadpan manner. "He's either heading back for the Dreadfort on foot or heading down the Kingsroad on foot if he is alive. Either way he'll be captured by our Convoy or the army of five thousand of my brethren about to surround the Dreadfort. Either way he will face execution for treason against his liege lord as will his brother Rogar Bolton."
 

EDDARD III
Morning, 19th day, 10th Moon,  280 A.C.

Eddard groaned as he felt a tap on the shoulder initially. He was exhausted still from the warging just a few hours earlier and rolled over thinking it might have been possibly Barbrey or Lyanna checking on him. Then he felt a hand gripping him by the shoulder and heard some faint voices as he gradually began regaining consciousness.

“.....your objection is noted, Crannogman! Ser Rodrik wake him up!” he heard a loud familiar voice shouting. 

Instinct took over as he grabbed the arm of the person who grabbed him and twisted it around as he leapt out of bed. The figure who had grabbed him was suddenly on the floor face down, with Eddard’s knee between the figure’s shoulder blades. Eddard had the figure’s arm the grabbed him twisted back in a hold which would only require a little more pressure to cleanly snap the arm at the elbow whilst pulling it out of it’s socket at the shoulderblade. Eddard had finally shaken off the sleep and became fully lucid when  he realized he had Ser Rodrik Cassel face down on the floor. 

Eddard heard Howland Reed say in the background, “With all due respect, my Lord, I did warn you.”

Eddard released his submission hold on Ser Rodrik getting up off the Winterfell’s Master-at-Arms , offering him a hand to help him up. He still had some of the residual senses inherited from the direwolves during his warging and could literally smell the fear on Ser Rodrik as well as from his father and the guards standing behind. He remembered a similar more intense scent entering the nostrils of  Dark Second Son of the Seeker's Mate's Brother as he and the packs had surrounded a fleeing Royce Bolton only a few hours earlier. Oddly he did not detect this scent from Howland Reed or Lord Rodrik Glover who were standing nearby. 

Eddard let out a low growl untintentionally as he asked hoping to defuse the situation, “May I ask why I was ... ”

Lord Rickard Stark interrupted, “Never ever do anything like that ever again with out the express permission of myself or your elder brother Brandon!” Rickard Stark was angered. Eddard could tell that on his face. Oddly Eddard had a memory of childhood come to mind regarding the particular expression of anger from far. It was during another Gathering of the Lords where, through some sheer luck and having actually listened during their instructions on archery in the Lichyard, Eddard had proven his skill at such to be far exceeding his elder brother’s in front of an audience.

“Well it was an instinctual action....” said Eddard, “My apologies Ser Rodrik Cassel. Are you okay?”

Ser Rodrik Cassel said somewhat winded, towards Lord Rickard Stark, “If it’s okay with you, I’d like to get some fresh air and walk it off.” He flexed his arm a bit , evidently feeling a dull pain still. Usually with Ser Rodrik Cassel, 'walk it off' meant 'see a healer or maester',  Eddard remembered. Rickard Stark nodded as Ser Rodrik Cassel exited. Howland Reed stepped towards Eddard at this moment.

Eddard looked to Howland briefly. Howland immediately spoke up to Eddard, “Your father asked me what had occurred. I relayed the account of the warging you had given us earlier before Barbrey left to meet the direwolves at Hunter’s Gate.” 

Eddard nodded to Howland, then looking to his father, “And why the objection, Father? I have crippled the Boltons’ planned assault on Winterfell. Granted it was more of a massacre than a battle but ... “

Rickard seethed, “You had no right to .. “

“To what father?  To send three thousand Bolton men to meet the Old Gods for judgment?” responded  Eddard in a low growling manner. “As soon as Barbrey let me know what she and Howland had seen through their greensight journey regarding the planned siege, I warged into Dark Second Son of the Seeker's Mate's Brother. and brought together the seventeen nearest smaller packs of direwolves around the Wolfswood. We ambushed Royce Bolton's army whilst most were sleeping.”  Eddard truly felt for the casualty.

“Three thousand men whose lives you arbirtarily ended!” seethed Rickard Stark.

“Better they die in the jaws of direwolves than in a long protracted siege where we end up losing just as many men as the entire North ends up crippled by a civil war.”  That statement gave visibly Rickard pause in his anger. Eddard could tell that he gave his father further pause when he stated, “That could be the idea behind why the Spears of Damnation are involved as well, perhaps leave us as divided as the realm my future goodsister’s father is Lord Paramount over to the south of us?”  

Rickard Stark was now confused slightly, “Why do you .... “

Eddard responded in perfect High Valyrian, “Nyke gīmigon nūmāzma tolī nūmāzma Vidar Tarraenos than kostā pendagon, kepa.  Se gaoman gīmigon bona Vidar Tarraenos gaomas gīmigon nūmāzma se siñon hen īlva biarves isse āeksion.” Rickard Stark was taken aback, seemingly disarmed regarding this. Only he and his father were the people present who knew High Valyrian fluently enough to speak it hence Eddard’s choice to inform his father in that language. Eddard knew then what was going through his father’s head at this moment as he had the same thoughts: Divided realms are easier to plunder espectially if you have a sympathetic opposing force. Instead of the Mountains of the Moon and some castles of some rogue Houses, the Tyroshi slaver operation might begin operations again out of the Dreadfort.

Rickard Stark relented slightly, “And with that army out of the way, we can concentrate on the sellswords coming up through the Neck. Very well. But we could have....“

Eddard stated, “Father, it would have taken at least three days to just get an army organized and prepared to counter their offensive. By the time our army was ready to march, we would already be engaged in countering the siege.”  Eddard paused for a moment, studying his father for a moment. “This isn’t about what I did to reduce the threat but something else.”

Lord Rickard Stark stated , “You will state to all the Lords that if what you did becomes known as more than just a rumor amongst the smallfolk in the North - and it will. That much I do know! - That you did so on orders from and at the behest of both your elder brother and myself.” 

Eddard looked at his father. He thought to himself, Ah. There we have it. My brother and father want my strength and power,  but also my unquestioning obedience.  He  calmly but defiantly said, “No.”

Lord Rickard Stark stated bluntly, “I will say this only once: you will learn your place and not step above your station.”

Eddard pinched the bridge of his nose, “I do know my place, Father. I am Lord of Sea Dragon’s Point. I also know what my lands are. They stretch from the edge of the Wolfswoof near the Winding Stream on House Glover’s Borders down to the Saltspear. Torrhen’s River which feeds Magloch near Torrhen’s Square forms the border between House Dustin and my lands. The hills between the west fork of Torrhen’s river and the east fork of the Rillstone river form my border with House Ryswell’s lands. Further north where the Twin Lakes are is my border with House Whitehill and House Tallhart.  Once I am married and Barbrey births me an heir, my position as the head of House Stark of Sea Dragon’s Point and the Sunset Coast will be firmly established.”

Eddard continued, “My actions were in defense of my own lands and Lordship. I will not be able to move forward with the development of the Sunset Coast if the North is in a civil war after all. And the last thing I want to do is be fighting a war on my own lands or in neighboring territories.  Now that I’ve essentially cut down House Bolton’s military capability, a civil war is far less likely at this point. This will allow me to be more able to build alliances quickly with the neighboring territories in the North and be able to move forward with the development of the Sunset Coast as well as the income generated by such, which will be sent to Winterfell as part of my duties in fealty to the Lord Paramount and Warden of the North in Winterfell.“

Rickard Stark then asked, falsely thinking Eddard more naive in Lordship than he actually was, “So and how you intend to build these alliances? They are loyal to Winterfell.”

Eddard nodded, “They are loyal to House Stark. As far as the Northwest, Lord Rodrik Glover will remain as Castellan of Sea Dragon’s Point with all privileges as before. That will ensure the alliance with House Glover remains. I will most likely add some incentives to give House Glover a good price on stone from the quarries inland from Grey Harbor in exchange for ironwood and other lumber goods for shipbuilding. I had overheard the Lord of House Glover was looking to reinforce Deepwood Motte’s castle with actual masonry from his son Galbart in the moments before I had ... subdued the Greatjon.”

Eddard took a deep breath and stated, “There’s some other similar exchanges of mutual benefit I have in mind for territories bordering my own.  For example, I have overheard rumors that there have been deposits of iron ore discovered in Flint of Flint’s Finger Territory. From the reports I’ve read so far from Lord Rodrik Glover for Benjen before he was moved to becoming Lord of Achyldenloch, I believe there are also similar deposits discovered near the coast between Grey Harbor and Stoney Point as well as on the three islands nearby in Blazewater Bay. I would like to develop that commodity to benefit the entire North given the need for Iron and Steel will be great as we further develop the North.”

Eddard finished, “That is how I plan on building alliances. As far as the method of betrothing my children to secure alliances, I will cross that bridge with the Lady of Sea Dragon’s Point and the Sunset Coast when we come to it. Most likely they will all be Northern betrothals with neighboring Houses and my vassal Houses.”

Rickard Stark nodded and seemed to be satisfied with his answer. “As long as you know your place as subordinate to House Stark of Winterfell. I am satisfied.”

“Well, within reason,” stated Eddard coldly. “However, I suggest you and Brandon tread carefully on this issue of my being the second son. This does not mean I will be agreeing with Brandon or you blindly and unquestioningly on all issues. And maybe it’s good that we’re having the Winter Gathering of the Lords, so that you may hear the voices that you have been ignoring for so long”

Rickard seemed slightly angered, “I listen to my Lords!”

“Do you really, Father?” retorted Eddard.  “If you did, you’d have no need for me to lie that both you and Brandon had ordered me to take action regarding the massacre of most of House Bolton’s army. House Bolton’s insurgency would not be an issue in the first place if you had listened to the other Lords.”

Rickard Stark was seething with anger as Eddard attempted to reason with him. “Father, you should have seen this coming from Rogar Bolton the moment you decided against giving Royce Bolton the Bloody Cross at the Heart Tree in Winterfell after their coup of House Condon.” The Bloody Cross was a ritual performed by the First Men of old upon someone who has committed an extremely heinous crime, normally being reserved for treason against one’s own House and one’s Liege Lord or King. It was a particularly painful , gruesome, and not very quick death. Thus it was asually it was only performed by the Kings of Winter in the past as a punishment for extreme crimes, becoming was a rather effective deterrent for future commissions of such crimes. There was a religious element to it as well since it the ritual also included a blood sacrifice to the Heart Tree.  “Your Lords have lost faith in you, Father. And in Brandon by extension. You seem to be more concerned with your Southron relations than this situation within your own realm.”

”You’ve only just arrived here, Eddard,” said Rickard Stark. “What do you know of what my Lords think?”

“Lord Rodrik Glover, I overheard you speaking with Rickard Karstark in the Smoking Log Inn regarding what the general consensus of the Lords of the North with regards to Royce Bolton being released from Lord Beron Karstark’s custody to Lord Rogar Bolton. Apparently something about lack of proof in his involvement with the murders of Cley Condon and his family as well as the usurping of House Condon’s territories by House Bolton.”

“Um, yes, my Lord Stark,” replied Lord Rodrik Glover, hesitantly as he looked concerned that his Lord had put him on the spot with his Lord's father, the Lord Paramount. “We were both surprised, and outside of the Boltons, not one of the Northern Lords were very pleased at that decision.”

Rickard Stark stated, “You both should know that by the Laws of the Seven Kingdoms for the proof of murder bodies must be produced and witnesses to the murder must testify if the accused is a Lord of high birth.”

“And Lord Cley Condon’s and his sons’ dried skins hanging in Royce Bolton’s Solar in Condon Castle weren’t enough proof?”  rebuked Eddard. Eddard had known it was common knowledge that Royce Bolton had even been heard to be boasting about this afterwards.

“But no witnesses came forth,” state Rickard Stark somewhat defeatedly. Eddard merely looked at his father for a moment not even dignifying that with an answer, as he thought, Of course there were no witnesses. Those that even hinted they would speak on the matter were already flayed in the bowels of the Dreadfort by the time word reached Winterfell. 

Eddard responded, "I killed the last witness to my beheading of Vardokan son of Vrakka on the Kingsroad a few days previous. Does that mean I did not kill that Vardokan son of Vrakka, even though Elbert Arryn found me near Grey Glen carrying his severed head in one hand and the sword I used to perform the action in the other hand?"

Rickard seemed speechless at the statement. Eddard asked thoughtfully, “I’m assuming Brandon has also met with all the Lords of the North on such as well during his education to be the Lord Paramount of the North. I’d be curious to ask him his stance on how the Boltons got into the position they are now looking to openly defy House Stark with your handling of the House Condon issue. Did this subject ever come up? Did Brandon ever bother asking?  It will be his realm after all.”

Rickard Stark remained silent on the questions. 

“By the way father, Barbrey told me every bit about your conversation with Lord Jon Arryn in Lord Wyman Manderly’s Solar she witnessed through her Greensight journey with my good friend Howland.  I think one  statement stuck in my head was ‘If Eddard is who I think he might be, House Bolton will meet the fate Theon the Hungry Wolf originally planned for the Red Kings.’ “ Eddard said then paused for a moment.   “I think I need to sit down with both you and Brandon and you both will need to listen to me on what will unite the North under House Stark. I think we also need to realize that I am not ”

"Agreed. Benjen will most likely need to be around for that meeting as well," replied Rickard after some hesitation. 

"I believe you as well as Brandon  need to focus on what is good for the North more than what is good for your alliances with the realms to the South of us."

"And I think you should focus on your own duties on your own lands, unless you are looking to usurp Brandon's birthright," said Rickard.  

Eddard responded, “No need to worry father. I will not usurp my brother Brandon’s place as Lord of Winterfell, Lord Paramount and Warden of the North. I’ll take a low profile to Brandon so your Southron friends won't feel as threatened by someone such as myself.”  Eddard looked at his father pointedly, “However, if you don’t want a ‘Dance of the Direwolves’, these are a few conditions I will put on Brandon. First, his eldest two sons will foster for a time at Sea Dragon’s Point or at Achyldenloch,  or another House with strong Northern roots such as House Karstark or Umber or Glover or with one of the Mountan Clans. They will be be wolves who worship the Old Gods, not fucking trouts who pray in a Sept. His daughters will also need to be educated in the Old Ways as well as wed to Northern Lords to secure the trust of the North. No reason we should have to be dragged down further than we need to in order to assist an ambitious Southron Lord Paramount keep his already tenuous hold on his own realm.”

Rickard Stark was beside himself, “Who do you think you are? You have no right to demand anything of your brother in that manner!”

”I have the ability to control lands from Gift to the Barrows already, Father. I just demonstrated that via the massacre of the Bolton army.” said Eddard said gravely  and not backing down. “That area is the geographical extent of the territories of fifty four packs of Direwolves and Grey Wolves  in the North.  I think that affords me quite a bit of weight on deciding how things are run in the North and as far as House Stark is concerned. However, a direwolf is not a slave or a weapon, so I will not use the abilities given to me by the Old Gods and my relationship with the direwolves save as a last resort.”  Eddard was slightly angered himself, but calmed himself down, as he was disciplined enough to control his own true wolf’s blood. “Father, as much as it is a good thing to reach out to the South for alliances and trade, don’t abandon the North in the process. That is not what your grandfather Willam and great-uncle Artos set out to do. And the fact of the matter is the North will not consider the sons and daughters of Brandon Stark and Catelyn Tully as Starks, if they are raised as Andals and behave as such. My sons and Benjen’s sons will be the ones most likely usurping Brandon's sons just to keep House Stark in the place it has earned and has occupied for over eight thousand years.”

Rickard Stark nodded, “You will then remember to honor any alliances I have with both the Riverlands, the Stormlands and the Vale.”

Eddard stated, “I have no problem honoring alliances which the Lord of Winterfell is beholden to. However, to be honest, the alliance with Hoster Tully benefits him more than it does us as I think he is relying on the might of the North to keep his own realm united under him.  Remember House Tully essentially was put in the position of the House Paramount by Aegon the Conqueror. And it has been divided ever since House Hoare was driven out of the Riverlands. This is why he pushed so hard for the betrothal for Catelyn to Brandon. But I’m sure you know this already.”  Eddard continued, "I suggest you remind Hoster Tully that this alliance does not mean he gets to dictate what happens in the North. All of you should also remember that once Lady Catelyn is wed officially to Brandon, she ceases to be a Tully. She will be a Stark at that point. Her loyalty to her mother house , beyond normal familial relations, will have ended, which means Brandon will dictate her actions, not her father. Barbrey is no different and she has in fact accepted this even before our betrothal has been officially signed."

Eddard noted his father nodding as if contemplating the truth of his statements. Rickard Stark stated, “Very well. We shall meet tomorrow morning before the morning arrivals of the various Lords' and their entourages. Yourself, myself, Brandon and Benjen will need to be all working with each other rather than against each other as far as the North is concerned."  Rickard shifted the conversation slightly as this was something that could be settled later, "I'm sending the manservants in to get you shaved and looking presentable for greeting House Mormont, Glover, Umber and the Houses of the Mountain Clans."

"Aye father," said Eddard, before he turned to Lord Rodrik Glover. "Lord Rodrik, if you could stay for a bit whilst I get ready. There's a few things I wish to discuss prior to meeting with your brother."

Howland exited the room behind Eddard's father Rickard Stark as the manservants arrived.

RICKARD III
Late Morning, 19th day, 10th Moon,  280 A.C.

Lord Rickard Stark walked from the Glass Gardens to see everyone assembled in the yard of the North ward of Winterfell . Guards and staff were lined up behind the nobles of importance in two groups forming a V in front of the main entrance to the Guest House. At the gap in the apex of the V were a table holding large pitchers of ale as well as mugs to hold such and another table with several loaves of  traditional dark Northern bread with a large bowl filled with salt.  

At the forefront of the left side of the V were Eddard and his betrothed Barbrey, the direwolf Eddard called ‘Cregan’ and Cregan’s mate were seated on their hindquarters behind them, with Lord Rodrik Glover next to them to Barbrey’s right and Galbart, Robett, and Ethan Glover awaiting beside their uncle. At the forefront of the other group on the right side of the V were Benjen and Lady Dacey Mormont with Shadow seated between them. To Dacey’s left was her Mother, Lady Maege Mormont, holding her daughter Alysanne in her arms. Further down were the Greatjon Umber, Lord Rickard Karstark along with his cousins Cregan Karstark and Arnolf Karstark, Ser Rodrik Cassel, Maester Walys, and Eldric Poole. Lyanna Stark stood at the apex of the V, with four unfamiliar fully adult direwolves seated behind her. 

The sight of the direwolves was both a sign for optimism as well as a concern for him. The living sigil of his House seated peacefully and at attention alongside himself and his children would be a message to the Lord of the North that House Stark is still Northern. Lord Rickard's concern was however that this was mainly centered around Eddard’s abilities as a warg. His second son Eddard’s statements earliier that morning regarding his control of over fifty large packs of direwolves and grey wolves, when taken in context with what he just did to Royce Bolton’s army, sent shivers down his spine. 

Lyanna nodded as Rickard approached his position , “Lord Father,” she greeted quietly but confidently. Her mother Lyarra would normally be in her position but as the eldest female Stark, Lyanna would perform the duties of the Lady of Winterfell when greeting arriving Lords and Ladies in the traditional manner. 

“Lady Lyanna,” nodded Rickard with a slight smile to his daughter as the horn blew, indicating that the Outer Gatehouse had relatively large party passing through and were en route to the Inner Gatehouse. At that moment the gatehouse opened.  One after another minor Lords of Houses which were vassals to House Glover arrived, with their banners displayed by their small entourages of five soldiers apiece: Lord Sigorn of House Bole, Lord Mors of House Branch, Lord Andar of House Woods, and Lord Thorren of House Forrester.  Four stablehands quickly approached to hold their mounts as the Lords all dismounted and stood in place awaiting House Glover’s entrance as well as House Mormont’s.

Lord Gared Glover entered on his destrier followed by ten men-at-arms, two of which were carrying the silver gauntlet on a crimson field banner of House Glover. Another stablehand approached his destrier and held it as Lord Gared Glover dismounted and walked forward.  Lord Gared Glover approached Lord Rickard Stark as his vassal Lords fell in behind him.  The resemblance between Gared and Rodrik was obvious given both were related given their similar stocky build. Gared was the younger however having a full head of hair which had only now begun to show the greying of age. He wore such in the traditional long northern manner, but seemed to have a less pleasant demeanor than Lord Rodrik Glover.

Following House Glover was House Mormont. Lord Jeor Mormont arrived on a huge brown garron. He wore black ringmail with a bronze cuirass and pauldrons along with bronze vambraces. He wore a bearskin cloak with a silver clasp shaped like the bear sigil of House Mormont. Lord Jeor Mormont looked much less pleasant with his stern gaze than Gared Glover. His head was shaved short as was his beard both of which were grey with age.  Strapped to his swordbelt at his side was the Valyrian Steel Sword, Longclaw, with it’s unique pommel shaped like the head of a great black bear. 

His son Jorah Mormont, a man a few years Eddard’s senior, was dressed similarly to his father and rode up on his greyish-white garron, with his relatively diminutive wife, Alys.  Alys was originally a Glover and she was dressed in a simple gown similar to those donned by Lyanna and Barbrey but in the green and black colors of House Mormont. Her light brown hair was braided in a similar style to Lyanna’s which was the traditional single Northern braid with two smaller braids coming down the sides and down the back with bronze rings on the end of the three braids.  Alys was riding on her own blackish brown garron mare. 

The Mormonts were also followed also  by ten men-at-arms, two of which were carrying the black bear in a green wood banner of House Mormont.  Lord Rickard watched as Old Nan’s giant of a grandson Wylis walked out to hold Lord Jeor’s mount as he dismounted. Two other stablehands assisted  the elder Mormont’s son and gooddaughter off their garrons as well.  Lord Jeor Mormont, his son Jorah and his gooddaughter Alys began walking towards where Lord Rickard Stark was standing,

Lord Rickard greeted Lord Gared Glover first.  “Minn heimerr opnað til þú, Magnar Gareð Glover,” Lord Rickard stated in the traditional greeting of a host.   My castle is open to you was the traditional greeting of the Lord of the Castle.

“Ek munu leggjniðrr minn brimir á þinn grind ok minn illr hugsumk aptr, Rikkimagnar Rickarð Stark” came the response from Lord Gared Glover as the two men embraced each other by grabbing each others right elbows in forearm-handshake gesture. “I will lay down my sword at your gate and any evil intent behind” was the traditional response towards the Lord of the Castle.

“Welcome to Winterfell, Lord Gared,” said Lord Rickard Stark as the two men took a more casual stance. 

“May I present my vassal lords,” stated Gared Glover. “Lord Sigorn of House Bole...”  A rather thin man with greying hair wearing Northern styled black ringmail. His cloak was woolen and olive green and his clasp as a black shield with an olive green tree trunk bisecting it in the middle. “Rikkimagnar Rickarð Stark,” nodded Lord Sigorn as he embraced Lord Rickard Stark’s arm in a similar manner to how his liege Lord Glover had. 

“Lord Mors of House Branch...” continued Lord Gared Glover.  A younger man built much like a Crannogman but slightly taller nodded. He was dressed in brownish leather armor with an olive green cloak similar to the Lord of House Bole only with a clasp shaped like a silver owl gripping a branch.  He proceeded with the same gesture and greeting in using the Old Tongue title equivalent for Great Lord. 

“This is Lord Andar of House Woods,” stated Lord Gared Glover. “He has a son named Felnyr who is quite good with an axe who wishes to enter the service of one of your sons as a ranking man-at-arms.”  

Lord Rickard Stark nodded, “That would be something indeed to discuss with Lord Benjen or Lord Eddard.” He approached a relatively muscular man with greying, sandy blonde hair and greyish eyes wearing brown leather ringmail with what appeared to be an elkskin cloak held togtther with a shield shaped clasp which was lacquered with a black badger in the center of a green field with lighter green trees. Andar embraced Lord Rickard Stark and nodded, “Lord Rickard Stark.”

“And this is Lord Thorren of House Forrester,” stated Lord Gared Glover. Thorren Forrester was a severe looking man with short-trimmed white hair and a white beard, dressed in black ringmail along with a cuirass which was emblazoned with his sigil in a similar manner to Rickard Karstark’s. The Forrester sigil of a white ironwood tree with a black sword on it, pointing down, on a black field was emblazoned on a shield shape on his steel cuirass. His cloak was black with a plain silver circle for his clasp.  Thorren proceeded with the traditional gesture and greeting in using the Old Tongue to Lord Rickard Stark, whilst looking briefly towards Lord Eddard. 

The Mormonts then approached as Lord Rickard then turned towards Jeor.  “Minn heimerr opnað til þú, Magnar Jeor Mormont,” Lord Rickard said using the traditional greeting.

Lord Jeor Mormont responded, “Ek munu leggjniðrr minn brimir á þinn grind ok minn illr hugsumk aptr, Rikkimagnar Rickarð Stark”  He embraced Lord Rickard Stark with the tradtional forearm-handshake although Lord Rickard noted he had not as tight of a grip on Lord Jeor’s arm due to the vambrace.

Lord Rickard Stark then walked with the seven Lords and the Lady and proceeded towards the tables. They performed the ritual of Guest Right. Lyanna handed each lord a small slice of bread as she carried the salt bowl and they sprinkled the salt on the bowl and handed one to her father as well who did likewise. 

“Ek em þinn skjandar. Nei illrherja komtilr þú,” stated Lord Rickard Stark loudly as he ate the small slice of salted bread. The traditional statement “I am your shield. No harm [literally: evil plunder] will come to you.” was given as part of the ritual. 

Lord Gared Glover and his vassal lords as well as Lord Jeor Mormont, Lord Jorah Mormont, and Lady Alys Mormont followed suit responding, “þú eru okkarr skjandar.  Vér munu haldheilagr þinn tala.”  This was the traditional response, “You are our shield. We will hold sacred your words.”  Lord Rickard Stark noted they omitted the phrase “með Gamallrinn Goðarr” or “by the Old Gods” as it was implied. This was a subtle note that these men were Northern First Men and they recognized that Winterfell was in the realm of the Old Gods. If they were in White Harbor or the South they would have used the phrase, “By the Old Gods and the New Gods”  in Common Tongue. Lord Rickard Stark mused however that  House Glover and their vassals would most likely have omitted the New Gods given they wouldn’t swear by any deities they did not hold any faith in, as would most of the Houses of the Far North as well as the Crannogmen. 

Immediately afterwards, Lord Rickard Stark himself picked up the pitcher of ale as Lyanna handed the Lords their mugs. Lord Rickard Stark began to fill each mug before picking one up and filling it himself. Each man began stating their oath of fealty towards Lord Rickard Stark taking a small drink afterwards until Lord Gared Glover  stated his oath, “Ek munu hirða þinn ævi ok haldþinnr ráð ok gefminnr ævi fyrir ykkarr ef þorfumunur.  Ek segðþessir talþatr með Gmallrinn Godarr.”  Rickard had heard this oath many a time in Common Tongue from Knights swearing fealty to their Lord as as sword sword. He himself had sworn an embellished form of the same oath almost sixteen years ago in King’s Landing to the current King. 

Gared Glover took a drink as Lord Rickard Stark began his response, “Ok ek segðtalainnr at þú munu fyrir allr tími hafar staðr með minn hjarta, ok slátr ok mjöð á minn stóll.  Ok ek segðtalainnr til spyrjneir vinnórr þú at knáttleggjar þú illrnafn. Ek segðþessir talþatr með Gmallrinn Godarr.”  Lyanna looked to her father smiling as all five lords downed their mugs of ale as Lord Rickard Stark finished his. 

Immediately afterwards Lord Jeor Mormont and Lord Jorah Mormont both swore the Oath of Fealty. Lady Alys swore a similar oath on Old Tongue worded more suitably for Ladies amd they downed their mugs as well.

With the ritual of Guest Right and Oaths of Fealty sworn by the Lords, their men lined up to perform the same with bread and salt for Guest Rights as they stood to the side and Lord Rickard repeated the vows of the host. The Oaths of Fealty were not sworn by those in Lord Glover’s and Lord Mormont's entourages as it was understood that they were covered by their Lords’ Oath of Fealty.

Lord Rickard Stark then proceeded towards the introductions of his family, beginning with his son Eddard. Lord Jeor Mormont seemed impressed with Eddard and his chosen betrothed's mastery of Old Tongue as they conversed. His son Jorah seemed to be interested in perhaps having a friendly spar in the yard and perhaps getting some pointers which would help in combatting the Ironborn. Lady Alys Mormont, Jorah's wife, seemed to hit it off well with Lyanna and Barbrey. Lord Gared Glover was apprehensive about Lady Barbrey until Eddard announced to Lord Gared Glover that Lord Rodrik Glover is the only man he will consider as Castellan; this assured Gared of House Glover's continued close relationship with the Lord of Sea Dragon's Point. 

Eddard had stated "Lord Glover, I am glad to finally meet you as well, although I daresay my goals in us meeting fall to the more mundane but necessary duties of the  Lord of the Sunset Coast from Sea Dragon's Point to the Torrhen's River.  I, along with my Castellan Lord Rodrik, wish to meet with you during the Winter Gathering of Lords in regards to furthering the already close relationship between Sea Dragon’s Point and Deepwood Motte.  I wish to provide  a good foundation with which to build our relationship as neightbouring Lords, Lord Glover.”   

Gared nodded with a wide smile at the last sentence. “We shall. Perhaps we could have such coincide with my meeting with you Lord Rickard Stark? It seems that there may be a lot of common ground covered between both my dialogue with my Liege Lord as well as a neighbouring Lord.” 

Lord Rickard Stark nodded, “Aye. I will be having Brandon and either Eddard or Benjen along as well during my meetings with the Lords.” Lord Rickard would later find out that Lord Rodrik had instructed Lord Eddard to reference a masonry term indicating that he knows of Gared’s desire for access to the quarries of Grey Harbor. 

Lord Gared Glover raised his eyebrow, “We might not need Brandon as Lord Eddard will be there.” Lord Rickard’s concerns from his conversation with Eddard earlier began to surface. He noticed Barbrey faintly whispering something in Eddard’s ear with some of the sibilance of Old Tongue being barely audible. 

Eddard answered relatively quickly, “Lord Glover, I would feel more comfortable with my brother Brandon  present at any of the meetings between any of the Lords whom I would have relations with and my Father. Best he sit and listen to get to know the state of his future realm and the Lords he will serve as our father has before him.” 

Lord Gared Glover seemed to be satisfied with Eddard’s explanation. Lord Rickard Stark seemed satisfied slightly as well, but knew it was a double-edged sword. If Brandon and Eddard are not in lockstep with each other on an issue, especially those dealing with Eddard’s territories, the Lords will end up throwing their support behind Eddard instead of Brandon. Fortunately, Eddard however seemed to be doing all he could to prevent any divide or any appearance of such.

Lord Benjen was met by the Lords next as he stepped forward confidently to meet them, saying, "An honor to meet you Lord Jeor Mormont, Lord Gared Glover. "  Shadow seemed to be enthusiastic as he sniffed towards the Lords as they came towards Benjen to greet him. They noticed Lady Maege and her daughters very close by with Maege's eldest standing rather closely next to Benjen.

Lord Rickard Stark stated, "I'm sure you know your niece Lady Dacey Mormont, jeor.  She and Benjen seem to have been inseparable these past few days. After some discsussions with your sister, Lady Maege Mormont, Lady Dacey seems to be the best candidate for the Lady Stark of Achyldenloch, so in addition to addressing the normal agreements between Bear Island and Winterfell, I'll have Maester Walys draft up a betrothal agreement if that is alright with you."

Lord Jeor Mormont seemed slightly stunned as he looked at his sister Maege who seemed to be smiling as she held Alysanne. He looked at Dacey for a moment, "Well, I always thought that it was a good idea a she-bear to be watching over a wolf. Aye, Lord Rickard Stark, House Mormont would be honored." 

Whilst Lord Jeor Mormont seemed proud of the moment, Lord Gared Glover looked at Dacey Mormont before stepping over towards Lady Maege Mormont. The two seemed to embrace briefly. There was some talk between them as Alysanne gave Lord Gared a hug as Lord Rickard Stark had seen her give Lord Rodrik Glover. Lord Jeor Mormont looked at Lord Rickard Stark and said privately to his liege,  "I suppose it balances things out that Dacey become Lady of Achyldenloch, since her father had to take the black in order for Achyldenloch to move forward with support from Last Hearth. If you ask me, Lord Rickard Stark, Hoarfrost's third son should be spending the rest of his life at the Wall as well."

Lord Rickard Stark had regretted that decision to this day. Toregg Glover and Maege Mormont were known to have been having a relationship for years. When Maege was only a few moons pregnant with Dacey, Hother Umber had become drunk and began making advances towards Maege, who refused. Hother Umber would not take no for an answer and continued pursuing the matter. That is until Toregg Glover caught word of such and came fairly close to killing Hother Umber in a fight due to escalation, only to be torn off of Hother Umber by Stark's house guards. Lord Rickard Stark was about to throw both in the Winterfell dungeon to cool off. Lord Rickard Stark however was blackmailed essentially by Hoarfrost  in exchange for fulfilling House Umber's agreement on Achyldenloch to press charges on Toregg Glover for violation of Guest Right. Upon Hoarfrost's death of old age, Hoarfrost's eldest son, the Greatjon's father, later wanted to reverse that decision given he fundamentally disagreed with his father on, but was three years too late. Lord Rickard Stark had negotiated a settlement between House Glover and House Umber but the damage was already done. Toregg had moved on becoming a ranger and it was obvious that his affair with Maege ended the moment he took the Black. Lord Rickard Stark had heard that she had visited him once about four years previous to find him cold and uncaring as the Wall had changed him, returning only with little Alysanne on the way. Maege had later sought solace increasingly with Toregg's brother Rodrik who seemed to be a good listener and had become a very good friend to her..

"Jeor,,  I can't say that I ... " stated Lord Rickard Stark

Lord Jeor Mormont stated, "You did what you had to do. I'd do the same in your position. If I remember correctly, Lord Osric tried to repeal such but once a man takes the vows of the Night's Watch, his watch only ends when the Old Gods call him home to them, no matter the reason for why he came to the Wall. "

Lord Rickard Stark responded , "Aye. That is true"

Introductions to Lord Rickard Stark's staff of Maester Walys, Ser Rodrik Cassel and Eldric Poole went fairly quickly, as Eldric Poole then began to have his own staff of stewards begin to take the Lords' and their entourages' baggage towards the Guest House and took them to their rooms. A runner then came down quickly from the what looked like the direction of the Glass Gardens' handing Maester Walys a note. 

"Lord Stark, " stated Maester Walys. "There may be a slight problem. House Umber and the Mountain Clans were delayed and will be arriving through this gate in a few hours, around...."

Lord Rickard Stark pinched the bridge of his nose, "....the same time as Brandon and House Manderly along with the rest of the Lords from the Southeastern region of the North."

Eddard stepped forward with Barbrey, "Father, since they will be a much smaller party than those arriving in the South Gate, I can perform as a proxy for you for the Guest Rights ceremony with the Umbers and the Mountain Clans. I'll arranged with Lord Osric Umber and the Wull to inform them that they'll be arriving into the Welcoming Feast in the Great Hall early so they can give their Oath of Fealty to you as Lord Paramount of the North." 

Lord Rickard Stark nodded, "Aye, I think that would be best. Thank you Eddard."  Lord Rickard Stark noted that this might also prevent any unnecessary tension if Eddard showed up later after the large party had arrived. Lord Rickard Stark looked towards Benjen and Dacey briefly who were leading the four new direwolves towards the Godswood trailed by the pup Shadow. Eddard's direwolf Cregan and Barbrey's dark grey female direwolf, evidently named Lynara, seemed to be waiting dutifully behind his son Eddard and his betrothed.  He added, "Eddard it might also ease some of the tension that is inevitable between you and your brother if say Barbrey took Cregan and his mate to the Godswood to frolic or do what direwolves normally do after you both finish with House Umber and the Mountain Clans."

Eddard looked at Cregan for a moment and then Barbrey who reluctantly nodded. Before turning with his betrothed and their two direwolves and heading to the Godswood themselves, he nodded to the affirmative to his father's request.

Chapter Text

LAZOQUO I
Late Morning, 19th day, 10th Moon,  280 A.C.

Lazoquo Ostelion of Myr had told his men to proceed ahead of him given their larger payload in order to meet House Bolton at the agreed upon spot. He instead would proceed with his own men into Winterfell to do the job he was sent by Vidar Tarraenos to do. Lazoquo smoothed the braids of his beard of straight black hair on his face as he took a swig of ale from his aleskin. He passed it to Maelor, a member of the Spears of Damnation originally from Norvos, who took a swig before asking, “So what exactly are we after in Winterfell?”

Lazoquo Ostelion shrugged, “Not sure exactly. Our master, Vidar Tarraenos , told me I will know it when I see it. We’re looking for a chest about the size of a noblewoman’s large jewelry case. Once we’ve obtained it, you and I will continue north then east to Eastwatch-by-the-Sea. We have a contact there within the Night’s Watch who has no love for the wildlings so he looks the other way when the slaver vessels dock at the harbor there. We’ll stay there for a bit then until one of Vidar’s ships arrives then we head to our destination in Blackwater Bay.”

Maelor was curious, “Where are we looking for this chest?”

Lazoquo Ostelion stated, “Apparently it will be either in the sarcophagus holding the coffin of Cregan Stark, the Old Man of the North or an unused larger sarcophagus. Given that these tombs are relatively deep the larger sarcophagus from our sources say House Stark stored their treasures before they apparently transferred them to the Iron Bank a little over couple of decades ago. My guess there will be nothing left in that one.”

“Why do you say that?” stated Maelor.

“Our boss told us how much the Starks are worth,” replied Lazoquo. “Apparently they needed four average sized war galleys to carry the amount of gold plus enough security to deliver their deposit now in the deeper vaults of the Iron Bank. That many gold coins would be packed to the gills in at least twelve or more such sarcophagi.” 

“So we’re graverobbers now?”

“For thirty thousand pieces of gold,  I’d wed and bed the dead,” said Lazoquo laughing ..

Maelor shrugged with , “I’ll stick with the living but that is a handsome price for our work. I wonder why he’s paying us so much?”

Lazoquo stated, “Because whatever’s in that chest is worth a lot to him more than what he’s paying us.”

Maelor stated, “Perhaps we could....”

Lazoquo said, “Don’t even think of going there Maelor. Vidar Tarraenos’ escaped slave of a Stark saved Zakaro the Dothraki from his punishment for failure. What do you think he’ll do if we try to swindle him like that?  Just focus on doing the task we’ve been assigned and we’ll all enjoy counting the money afterwards.”

The journey on the Kingsroad was relatively, which carved its way through the forested swamps of the Neck before they emerging in the boggy clearing one the very north side near what appeared to be large area of bare earth. Maelor had noticed that there might have been a castle there at one time and looked like  reconstruction had just begun as they saw waist-high dark granite blocks forming a perimeter on either side of the Kingsroad.  

Their wagon hit a bump and Lazoquo’s olive complexion went pale for a moment. He motioned to the several large  wine casks behind them , “Be careful of bumps in the road, Maelor. That green stuff in the two special marked casks is not exactly Myrish Firewine.”

Maelor nodded as they continued northward on their wagon. They merged with a merchant convoy coming from White Harbor towards Wintertown bringing supplies for the increased , appearing as two salty Dornish wine merchants heading to Winterfell.  The Winter Gathering of the Lords brought a tremendous amount of business to Winterfell and Wintertown and the Merchants were following suit. They would even be able to set up their stalls in the market grounds inside Winterfell. It’s a shame these common merchants will burn to death along with half that castle, just so the boss can get whatever is in that chest to his old lover from Dragonstone, thought Lazaquo, as they pressed on towards Winterfell. I heard the fucking Wolfmother's son however is on this side of the pond along with the rest of Mentyr hen Sīmontan .  If he's in Winterfell and has made contact with the Starks, things will become much more complicated.

BRANDON II
Afternoon, 19th day, 10th Moon,  280 A.C.

Lord Brandon Stark rode in at the head of the procession in through the South Gate to the formal welcoming of Lords. He had twenty House Stark guards with him and he dismounted as his squire Ethan Glover held his mount. Brandon noted Ethan was partly his squire as he was one of the few people who could hold his destrier Midnight firmly and steadily without it provoking it for a dismount. This would come in handy for the big tourney he had caught wind of happening in a year down in the Riverlands.

Brandon saw many of Winterfell’s staff assembled in the yard of the South ward of Winterfell . Guards and staff were lined up behind what seemed to be a paltrey few nobles of importance at the front, from where he had seen his squire run to him a few moments past. Brandon could see a few long tables holding several large pitchers of ale as well as mugs to hold such as well as a mountain of loaves of  traditional dark Northern bread with several largs bowls filled with salt.  

Lord Brandon noticed his father walking out to meet him halfway. Brandon also saw the few nobles sent to greet him. It seems only House Karstark was the only one of the few present with Rickard, Cregan and Arnolf standing next to Robet Glover from House Glover. He could see his sister Lyanna standing next to his younger brother Benjen. He saw some girl about Benjen’s age with dark hair dressed similar to Lyanna next to some large dark grey furred wolf that seemed oddly stocky. Must be Eddard’s direwolf, he thought.

“Welcome home to Winterfell, son,” said Lord Rickard Stark

“Where is Ned?” said Brandon, somewhat angry at the idea that his younger brother is not present.

“Your convoy arrived early,” stated Lord Rickard Stark. “Your brother Eddard is welcoming House Umber and the Mountain Clans at the Hunter’s Gate and handling the Guest Rights rituals. Their Oaths of Fealty to their Lord Paramount will be stated by this group at the beginning of the First Welcoming Feast. Your brother couldn’t handle this aspect of such as he is Lord of Sea Dragon’s Point and the Sunset Coast, not Lord Paramount of the North.”

“That explains the absence of Lord Glover and Lord Mormont and their Houses here as well,” said Brandon, still somewhat angered, somewhat oblivious to House Manderly, House Locke, House Hornwood, House Wells, House Flint of Widow’s Watch, House Mollen, House Waterman, House Littlefoot, House Overton and House Woolfield filing into their respective rows with their Lords dismounting, standing beside their mounts dutifully. The wheelhouses for House Hornwood and House Manderly had even been pulled in.  The wheelhouses containing the group of Silent Sisters along with the Septon from the Diocese in White Harbor were parked next to the Manderly entourage.

Lord Rickard Stark’s eyes narrowed as he said,  “You are my heir but that alone does not guarantee you the loyalty of the North. You still have a lot to learn Brandon. We will discuss this subject later during the talk I have with all my sons tomorrow afternoon. Now go take your place for the ceremonies.”     

Brandon Stark nodded, “Aye father.”  His father was the type who if he said that something will be discussed later, it was best not to press the issue.  He walked with his father out to meet the Lords standing slightly behind and to the left of Lord Rickard Stark. 

“To the Lords and Ladies of House Manderly, Hornwood, Locke, Woolfield, Wells, Waterman, Littlefoot, Overton, and Flint of Widow’s Waitch,  I,  Lord Rickard of House Stark, welcome you to Winterfell.  Shall you approach and partake of Bread and Salt?”

There was a unanimous statement of “Aye, Lord Stark.” before Lord Rickard Stark and Brandon turned to head towards the tables as Lyanna and Benjen approached as well to assist. The ceremonies of Guest Rights and the Oaths of Fealty went fairly quickly before the boring part of the welcoming started. Given the sheer number of guests in the entourages numbering around two hundred and fifty total meant that the Stark siblings had to pitch in for Guest Rights. Brandon performed the ceremony with Lyanna assisting as his father did the same with Benjen assisting.

Towards the end of the ceremonies, Brandon caught view of Eddard arriving from the direction of the Southeast ward where the tiltyards, tourney grounds and the market grounds, walking past the horses of the guest Lords’ entourages being led to the guest stables in that ward. 

Eddard arrived when the ceremonies had completed as the Manderly’s approached Lord Rickard Stark. Benjen and the dark grey direwolf approached Eddard along with the dark haired girl who was standing next to Benjen. “Benjen, take Shadow and Lady Dacey Mormont to the Godswood. I think Lady Barbrey may wish to be relieved from having to watch the pack.”  Benjen nodded and ran off to the west towards the Western ward, which was the quickest unobstructed way to the Godswood.

Eddard then approached where Lyanna and Brandon were standing, “Glad that’s done,” stated Eddard to Lyanna.

“Oh?” 

“I spent a little bit longer than anticipated with the Mountain Clans and House Umber. Luckily my Castellan saved me on that one so I could leave to attend here. We’re definitely going to need some form of alliance agreement regarding Achyldenloch to put to rest any existing bad blood between House Glover and House Umber because of the Whoresbane’s inability to control himself around Lady Maege years back.”

Brandon stepped in, “Father and I will handle that, Ned. No need for a minor lord to be concerned...” Brandon seemed surprised at the narrow gaze Eddard seemed to give him in response.

“I am Lord of pretty much most of the Sunset Coast, Brandon,” stated Eddard. “I’d hardly count that as being a minor lord, dear brother. But you are right as Winterfell will need to be involved, since Lord Benjen Stark of Achyldenloch and myself as Lord of Sea Dragon’s Point will be the mediating lords on both sides. Benjen’s imminent betrothal  to Lady Dacey of House Mormont should be a start. The rest might involve some trade deals regarding resources we have scarcity of for one party but an abundance with the other party. ”

Lyanna nodded, looking a Brandon briefly with a slightly disappointed look. Eddard said, “Based on your initial response to me, our father was right: we do need to all have a talk. A word of advice however: You may be father’s heir but you will need the support of the North to be successful as Lord Paramount once father is gone. If you are dismissing myself and I’m assuming Benjen as merely minor lords to be brushed aside, you will fail in that goal.” 

Eddard stated almost deadpan without expression, “By the way, welcome home Brandon.”  Eddard then departed to go speak with his father and the Lords and Lady of House Manderly.

Brandon looked at Lyanna and said, “Who does Ned think he is?”

Lyanna stated honestly, “A good bit of the North think he’s Theon the Hungry Wolf come again.”  Brandon looked somewhat taken aback by his sister’s statement.  “You may wish to cut him a bit of slack as well, given he’s been dealing with the Bolton problem. Rumors going through Winterfell this morning is father is pissed off at Ned  for moving against House Bolton without notifying him first.”

Brandon nodded, “Well, and rightly so.” 

Lyanna nods, “Under normal circumstances I’d agree with you, and luckily the whole truth will not get out until after Rogar Bolton has been dealt with by Father. However, I got the full story from Barbrey, who was with Ned the entire night that it happened.”  That statement cut like a knife as it further drove the point home that Barbrey was no longer his. “Ned warged into the alpha of one of the direwolf packs and brought together over a hundred and thirty direwolves from various packs around the North and literally massacred three thousand troops from House Bolton in a some clearing on the north end of the Wolfswood. They were being led by Royce Bolton and were en route south to lay siege to Winterfell.  Barbrey lay watching over him the whole night whilst he was in the warg trance. Howland Reed and I came in near dawn around the time he came out of it. We took over so she could meet Cregan, Eddard’s Direwolf, and his mate and the rest of their pack and bring them into Winterfell.”

Brandon stated, “So Cregan’s that dark grey wolf that was following Benjen?”

Lyanna chuckled, “That’s Shadow, Benjen’s direwolf pup. Cregan’s quite a bit larger, about as tall at the shoulder as Midnight, and he’s got greyish-white fur. He’s slightly less fierce if your familiar to him.”  Lyanna became much more serious afterwards, “The point however that Eddard had gone through with the counterattack via warging  as we would already be under siege by the time our army could be readied for a counterattack. And we only found out about it thanks to the Old Gods guiding Barbrey and Howland Reed through a Greendream.  Ned did what he did for Winterfell. Don’t ever doubt Ned’s loyalty to House Stark, Brandon.”

Brandon stated, "It's not Ned's loyalty I'm worried about."

Lyanna nodded, "I do know the dilemma father is in regarding you and Ned: Who is the heir of Rickard Stark who the North will support and get behind once the Bolton issue is resolved?”

“Myself obviously,” said Brandon

“Are you sure about that?” said Lyanna in a slightly scolding tone. “They don’t say it but all of the houses which entered through Hunter’s Gate today are looking to Eddard as a leader which means they would rather have your brother than you as Lord Paramount than you after father is gone. From what I am hearing the Houses of the Neck are leaning that way too. Ned keeps to the Old Gods and has been blessed by such, He also will have a Northern wife and children raised in the traditions of the North.”  Lyanna paused a moment.

Brandon seemed very uncomfortable with Lyanna’s statements. 

“You on the other hand are betrothed to a Southron wife, you treated a Northern lady like a whore or at least your are viewed as doing so by more than just House Ryswell, you are rarely seen at the Heart Tree in Winterfell or whereever you may be travelling, and any power you have is based on your position as Father's heir. Do you see where I’m headed with this, Bran?”  Lyanna’s gaze softens slightly at Brandon, as she continued , “If I were you I’d remember that Ned is your blood. He will never betray you. ”

“Agreed, but Ned should remember who the eldest is and who’s in charge.”

Lyanna cut Brandon off, “As of today, given the response of the Lords who arrived earlier, Ned controls almost the entire Sunset Coast mostly through his territory as Lord of Sea Dragon’s Point. Now that he’s promoted :Lord Rodrik Glover to Castellan of Sea Dragon’s Point, House Glover is closely allied with him as is House Mormont, so he controls that coastline as well. His recent close relationship with Lord Howland of House Reed essentially has guaranteed the Crannogmen as allies so he’s has the ability to influence the Neck significantly.  It’s only a matter of time before Ned makes alliances which will tie together the entire Sunset Coast to his Lordship.” 

Brandon bristled at this , “Well I’ll have to make sure Ned knows... “

Lyanna completed the sentence, “Knows what?  Benjen will be doing the same as he comes into his Lordship as Lord of Achyldenloch. He’s already got the Mountain Clans and House Umber as allies. House Karstark is ... .”

Brandon completed the sentence, “ ... extremely loyal to father given the amount of ravens I’ve observed Maester Walys sending to and receiving from Karhold. House Manderly is obviously very allied to father as well, and the Houses of that region are loyal to both myself and father. I’ll  have most of the North allied or controlled by my brothers, kin, with the one remaining area controlled by House Manderly, who have been loyal to House Stark for over thirteen centuries.”

Lyanna nodded, “And don’t try to control your brothers. If they’re as stubborn as you or I, they will resist. Last thing we need is a civil war in the North due to family disputes. Leave that to those inbred silver-haired violet-eyed cunts in King’s Landing.”

Brandon looked at Lyanna , chuckling, “Such language from a lady. You do realize your betrothed is related through his grandmother Rhaelle to those inbred silver-haired violet-eyed cunts. “

Lyanna gave a wry smile, “Well, no one’s perfect, but I don’t hold that against Robert.” Lyanna paused for a moment, “I can’t wait for that tourney down in the Riverlands. I get to see my betrothed in and out of his armor and that ... large hammer of his.” Brandon chuckled but was slightly uncomfortable at his sister’s risque references to her betrothed. Lyanna knew it made him squirm however which was most likely the reason Lyanna made the reference.

“Better not let Lady Catelyn hear you talk like that about your lust for your betrothed,” said Brandon jokingly back. “She’ll send you to be with the Silent Sisters over there until our wedding in Riverrun.”

Lyanna chuckled at her brother’s jape before she looked over in the direction of where Benjen and Dacey had walked. Lyanna’s smile dropped to an expression of concern as she glanced rapidly towards Brandon twice. Brandon looked over to see a woman who looked somewhat familiar, dressed in a formal gown of Stark colors of grey and white with her hair braided in what appeared to be an old braided hairstyle he had only seen in woodcuts in the history books of old monarchs from the age of the Kings of Winters’ conquest of the North. 

It was Barbrey Ryswell walking into the South ward,  followed by two of the largest predatory beasts he had seen. He’d heard of the direwolves having appeared in the Wolfswood a year ago but never actually saw one. The slightly larger one had light grey and white fur with golden eyes. Brandon remembered Barbrey was a tall woman and barely came up to the wolf’s shoulder as they walked. The slightly smaller one seemed to lean slightly against Barbrey , receiving a scratch behind its ear in return, as they continued to walk past, making a beeline for where Eddard was standing still with Lord Rickard Stark, Lord Wyman Manderly, Ser Wendel Manderly, Lord Wylis Manderly and his new wife Lady Leona discussing something.  Due to the wide grin on Lord Wyman Manderly’s face and how Eddard was addressing Ser Wendel Manderly directly through his observance this was most likely an indication that Ser Wendel Manderly had received the position he was hoping for with Rillstone Harbor. 

Brandon saw the two giant direwolves take a dutiful seat behind Barbrey and Eddard. He could see Eddard motioning to the larger one and explaining something to the Manderly’s who seemed to be shocked at first but at ease.  Brandon visibly stiffened and his hands balled into tight fists as he saw Barbrey give Eddard a brief familiar kiss.  It became obvious Lyanna picked up on this. 

“All  things considered, Barbrey and Ned seemed to have hit it off with each other quite well,” said Lyanna. 

“Their betrothal contract is not signed yet,” Brandon said defiantly. Something in him did not want any other man even his brother to be with Barbrey. She was still his in his mind. "And I'd rather not have Ned married. I need a Lord Commander, not him as a Lord."

“Bran, if you cared anything for Barbrey, don’t stand in the way of her and Ned being betrothed,” said Lyanna. “She deserves some happiness in life. So does Ned given all he’s been through.”

"Lya, I can arrange for another betrothal for Barbrey. She'll be happy with it," said Brandon.  "Ned needs to learn his place, Lya."

Brandon relaxed slightly but he seemed still on edge. If he has control of half my realm, he needs to be brought to heel. 

EDDARD IV
Early Evening, 19th day, 10th Moon,  280 A.C.

Eddard sat at the High Table in the Great Hall as House Umber and the Mountain Clans said their Oaths of Fealty. He smiled at the Oaths being stated enthusiastically in the Old Tongue  by the Wulls, Norreys, Burleys, Harclays, Liddles, Knotts, and his grandmother Arya’s clan, House Flint of the Mountains.  He was seated next to his brother Brandon, who seemed to have some sort of quarrel with him that he could not put his finger on. Eddard thought to potentially ease the tension by discussing some subjects which they had some common ground.

“House Flint of the Mountains will be supplying a Lord Regent for Benjen for Achyldenloch from what I hear,” said Eddard to his brother. “I’m hoping it’s Lord Tormund Flint, grandmother Arya’s nephew. He’s earned some chains from the Citadel so he’s fairly knowledgeable.”

“He’ll need to know how to fight as well, Eddard,” snapped Brandon, who seemed to be intentionally not looking at Eddard as he spoke.

“Given he’s to be betrothed to a girl from Bear Island who seems to always have her morningstar at her side when she’s not in formal gowns,” retorted Eddard. “I don’t think that will be a problem.” Eddard paused briefly before stating, “But if you’d like I’ll ask Ser Rodrik Cassel to bring Ben in on some of the combat training I’ve been assisting him with for the new recruits for your army during their morning and afternoon drills.”

“So father’s betrothing him to Maege’s daughter?” asked Brandon. “Wouldn’t it be better for ....”

“Remember what I was talking about earlier?”, interrupted Eddard. “A betrothal to Dacey Mormont to Benjen will tie Achyldenloch to House Mormont and House Glover. House Umber and the Mountain Clans will be bound by their alliance with the Lord of Achyldenloch to honor that alliance as well. 

“How does it tie to House Glover? She’s a Mormont of doubtful legitimacy,” said Brandon.

“Brandon, I’d avoid calling ‘bastardy’ too freely.  If I recall, you were born only five moons after mother and father’s wedding, Imagine if father and grandfather decided a Karstark or another Flint or Locke was a better match instead of our mother, the Wandering Wolf’s youngest daughter?” retorted Eddard. “The wedding of Toregg Glover and Maege Mormont was to happen three days after the incident took place. If Whoresbane could have kept it  his urges under control, and Hoarfrost hadn’t pressured Father over Achyldenloch, the wedding would have happened and we’d be betrothing Benjen to Lady Dacey Glover instead.”

Brandon nodded, “Oh, I see.” Brandon seemed slightly miffed at the suggestion that he may not be considered one hundred percent legitimate if one wanted to press the matter. Given that the North was much more flexible on legitimacy than some sects of the Faith of the Seven, it was a moot.  However, Eddard felt the need to point out that Dacey was considered legitimate by both Houses. She was named Mormont due to Toregg and Maege being unable to take their vows since Toregg had been sentenced to the Wall.  

Eddard remarked, “It was father’s idea anyways when he saw the two of them together.” Brandon seemed to drop the argument against once he heard that Lord Rickard Stark endorsed the betrothal of Benjen to Dacey..

“So I hear you’re going through with your betrothal to Barbrey Ryswell,” stated Brandon. “If you’ve all but eliminated the Bolton threat then, it’s not really necessary anymore.”

Eddard shrugged, “It’s all right. I’ve become quite fond of her this past day we’ve known each other. Cregan likes her. Which is rare since he merely just grunts at Benjen and Benjen’s direwolf Shadow. Barbrey’s also bonded with Cregan’s mate. Named her ‘Lynara’ which I suppose is appropriate.” Eddard figured he could be honest with his brother about this even though there was a bit of a rivalry there. Eddard had assumed that the rivalry was more regarding who had more power in the North and sought to ease that.  “Barbrey is rather intelligent and has given me some good advice, so I think she’d make an excellent Lady of Sea Dragon’s Point. Not like there’s a lot of Northern potential brides our age around.”

“Oh, I’m sure there’s some,”  countered Brandon. 

“Unella Flint is betrothed to Willam Dustin. Barbrey’s sister Bethany is married to Roose Bolton. Leona Woolfield married Ser Wylis Manderly two fortnights ago,” responded Eddard. 

“Well, we could help you assist in the issue with the Freys and the House Blackmyre, House Charlton issue,” stated Brandon.

“House Frey will never marry into House Stark. House Tully hasn’t even allowed that yet and Hoster’s his Lord Paramount. Do you think father would allow that?” rebutted Eddard, slightly angry Brandon would even suggest such a think. "Even if he did, I would never consent to marrying a Frey. Frankly, fuck you Brandon for ever suggesting such."

“I'm not talking about marriage. I want you to be ready to ensure that House Frey has the fear of the North in them," said Brandon. "Don't worry I will not allow access to the wealth of the Sunset Coast to a House which is known to suck its Vassal Houses dry and anyone else who has been married into such,  But Old Walder’s already pissed off as once our harbors get established, he’s going to take a massive income cut from traffic coming from the North towards Seagard, now going via sea routes from Sea Dragon’s Point, Rillstone Harbor, and the new harbor at Flint’s Finger, bypassing the Twins.  He's going to lash out. I want you to keep him in check.”

"Okay," Eddard said, feeling very unsure of what Brandon was implying. "But what does that have to do with my being betrothed to Barbrey Ryswell...."

"I don't want you as a Lord once I am Warden of the North. You're no use to me as such. I want a Lord Commander who follows my directions who I can send to ...."

"Then we indeed will have a problem, Brandon," said Eddard.

"There is a solution, Ned," said Brandon in a rather cocky manner. "Offer Lord Rodrick Ryswell 100,000 and I will set up a betrothal for Barbrey. Perhaps Ser Donnel Locke or perhaps one of the unmarried Karstarks or Flint's of Widow's Watch."

"Iksā issare hae iā mittys. Iā mittys kostagon daor sagon se drēje dārilaros naejot se āeksio hen Ropatasōnar." stated Eddard in High Valyrian.  Eddard braced himself awaiting Brandon's infamous temper, but it never came. Instead Eddard's suspicions regarding Brandon's lack of a sufficient education became confirmed.

"Speak Common Tongue, Ned!", grumbled Brandon.

"That was High Valyrian, a language I would have thought you would have learned by now from the Maester as part of your education," said Eddard. "You will need that if you intend to be Lord Paramount and Warden of the North when father is gone. Those silver-haired violet-eyed Targaryens do love to lapse into it from what I've heard whilst in mid-conversation with the heathen Andals and we savage First Men. It would behoove you to know when they attempt to speak thinking you understand them. " 

Eddard paused for a moment, drinking a sip of ale. He stated slowly, "I had said, 'You are behaiving like a fool. A fool cannot be the true heir to the Lord of Winterfell.' in High Valyrian. Your not reacting to such indicated your lack of understanding of the language."

Brandon shifted in his seat, "Who the fuck do you think you are, Ned?"

"I am the Lord of Sea Dragon's Point, Brandon. My territory pretty much encompasses over three quarters of Sunset Coast of the realm of the North. I also have the ability to control every fucking pack of direwolves in the Wolfswood which gives me control of everything West of the Kingsroad," said Eddard very pointedly. "I've also crippled House Bolton using the power I have in controlling said direwolves. This will become known fairly soon as I'm sure House Karstark should be passing that clearing on their way down fairly soon. My suggestion is you forget about trying to force me to do anything and treat me as a your Warden of the Sunset Coast and a very very powerful member of House Stark."

Eddard drank the last of his mug of ale and poured another as well as politely topping off Brandon's mug, "Furthermore, as I said previously, my bonded direwolf's mate is bonded with Barbrey. The Old Gods have spoken and the betrothal and frankly our marriage ceremony is a formality for the realms of men as far as I'm concerned."

Eddard finished the rest of his mug of ale as he saw the group of Lords filing in and taking their seats. Eddard saw Ser Wendel Manderly and Lord Rodrik Glover off to a side table and saw Lord Howland Reed heading towards there. Eddard then looked to his elder brother, “Do not be a fool grasping at power you do not possess, save that which you inherit through father. And that is dependent on you maintaining the trust of the Lords of the North, myself and Benjen included.  Now If you’ll excuse me brother, I need to go tend to my duties on further improving the my territories for the benefit of the North and House Stark.”

Brandon nodded without even the faintest of smiles as Eddard left the High Table. He merely had a shocked look on his face.

Eddard approached Lord Rodrik Glover as he was deep in discussion with Ser Wendel Manderly about the Sunset Coast. Howland Reed had arrived at the table at the same time as Eddard. Eddard with a deadpan jest stated, “I see we’re plotting great things already.”  Eddard sat down as Ser Wendel and Lord Rodrik Glover chuckled amicably. 

“We’re going to need some roads built,” stated Lord Rodrik Glover. “There are some well-worn paths but if we’re going to tie together the Sunset Coast and the rest of the North west of the Kingsroad, we’ll need some to handle the influx of trade traffic. Ser Wendel Manderly was informing me of this need, given how well developed the roads to and from the area of White Harbor and around the Southeast region of your father’s kingdom.”

Eddard nodded, “That is a good point come to think of it. I would however like the paths of the roadways if not on my territory to pass near castles, towns or settlements, but not through them.  Last thing I want in the North are some folks who think Walder Frey had the right idea with creating the Twins and can easily create a choke point for such traffic.”

Ser Wendel Manderly nodded, “I agree. I would like to run a road from Sea Dragon’s Point down to Rillstone Harbor along the coast with perhaps a fork which leads to Grey Harbor.  We’ll also need a road which runs along the Saltspear from Rillstone to around Moat Caillin.”

Eddard thought for a moment, “This will cross out of my territory. I’d hold off on the Moat Caillin direct road. I’d suggest perhaps a  so we’ll have to get a House Dustin, House Ryswell, House Whitehill, and House Tallhart as well as my father and brother involved since we’ll be crossing other House’s territories for the route I’m thinking.”

Ser Wendel Manderly said in excited Revelation, “So Rillstone to Barrowton?”

“Rillstone harbor northeast to the around the ruins of Ryder Hall then due east crossing Torrhen’s River at the narrow fords, then continuing across the Barrowstream two leagues south of  Barrowton and curving northwards to meet up with the already existing road from Barrowton to the Kingsroad,” said Eddard.

“We’ll definitely need some good stonemasons,” said Ser Wendel. “But that route doesn’t go through Tallhart territory.” 

Eddard looked over at Howland Reed who was smiling at him, “I’m assuming this is why you’re sitting here, Howland. However we’ll need another smaller road anyways which will be needed running from the Grey Harbor Quarries  along the edge of the Wolfswood before travelling south to meet up with that same road between Barrowton and the Kingsroad. This will mainly be in support of the reconstruction of Moat Caillin and as well as future transport of granite from the quarries east.”

Howland nodded, “My father will most likely want me to listen and to speak for House Reed and the Houses of the Neck as I have a feeling they will be the last to arrive.” Eddard knew they were most likely in the midst of intercepting the sellswords transporting most likely wildfire along the Kingsroad headed North. 

Eddard nodded, “Now that we have the issue of roads addressed, anything specific to Rillstone Harbor which stands out to you Ser Wendel?”

“I’d have to discuss this with Lord Justan Flint to know the exact state of the construction on the harbor and shipyards as well as the town itself which will incorporate the existing villages of Westonbyrg and the Sunset Shores,” said Ser Wendel. “But I would like to make a request....”

Eddard looked at Ser Wendel noticing he felt a bit nervous, “What is this request?”

““I am getting the impression that you are very Northern and you follow the Faith of the Old Gods, but there are those within the North who .... “

Eddard leaned back, “Rillstone Harbor has the potential to be a major port on the Sunset Sea, Ser Wendel. It will be the port which traders from the Arbor, Old Town, Lannisport and Seagard and all ports in between will be arriving at to trade with the North. Given this we will have most likely having a good many Lords and Ladies arrive, some from major Houses if not Paramount Houses from the region.  If you’re asking whether it would be okay to build a Sept within Rillstone Harbor, I would say yes. In fact,  I would advise that once Rillstone Harbor has become more or less completed, I would suggest perhaps asking the Septon in White Harbor to contact the Starry Sept in Old Town regarding this. I know there is some regional governance via the High Septon’s involvement with major Septs within the Seven Kingdoms.”

Lord Rodrik Glover looked surprised, “That is surprising, Lord Eddard, coming from you.”

Eddard nodded, "There will still be a Godswood I'm assuming located in at the town of Rillstone Harbor, there is no reason for there not to be a Sept there given that we must accommodate our merchants in all aspects. Given you will be the Lord of the Mouth of the Rillstone and will be my vassal, my concern is for your well-being, your spiritual needs included.”

Eddard leaned back and flagged the cupbearer over to refill their mugs of ale, “At any rate, we’ll cross the bridge of building a Sept in Rillstone once we get to it. I foresee that may be a couple of years off before we can even break ground, given all the other projects ongoing within the North and on the Sunset Coast.” 

Ser Wendel stated rather gratefully, “Thank you Lord Eddard Stark.”

“I think the only other thing would be I would like Rillstone to also be capable of having a rather large garrison for its own army there. Grey Harbor is currently our military outpost. I want the Sunset Coast to be ready not only for defense but for offense,” said Eddard. “Last thing I want is for my father or my brother Brandon to meet the fate of our ancestor Beron at the hands of some Greyjoy who seeks to emulate their great-great-grandfather Dagon.”  

Ser Wendel and Lord Rodrik Glover nodded as Ser Wendel interjected, “I would suggest we begin building a naval presence as well for the Sunset Coast. I can consult my father about such.”

Eddard said, “Excellent. I’d like have a meeting with my Castellan and my Vassal Lords, as well as the Lords for the neighboring territorries for our plan for moving forward. Lord Commander Slate should be arriving with most of the neighbouring Houses either at sunset on the morrow or the following morning.. House Ryswell should be arriving around the same time as House Bolton that morning as well or the afternoon.”

Ser Wendel Manderly nodded, “By the way, I wish you all happiness in your betrothal and future togeth_ ...” 

Ser Wendel’s statement however was interrupted by Brandon as he approached the table along with the Greatjon. Some of the younger Lords from the Mountain Clans were behind him, as well as Ser Donnel Locke and Lord Jorah Mormont.  Lord Arnolf Burley was standing with his two trusted hunting dogs by his side, mastiffs easily as large as grey wolves.  

“Ned, I just heard you put the Greatjon to sleep the other night in the Smoking Log Inn,” said Brandon.  

Eddard slightly annoyed at Ser Wendel being interrupted, “Thank you, Ser Wendel. I pray to the Old Gods that our union will be a blessed one.”  He turned towards his elder brother with a slightly angered look, “Considring  Lord Jon Umber was about to pummel a young Lord Howland of House Reed, who had been my travelling companion and good friend for a few days previous, I figured it was a wise move.”

The Greatjon looked as Eddard slightly apologetically as Eddard realized this seemed to be more of Brandon’s doing, “Lord Jon Umber, I am sorry I did not get to talk to you until this morning yet only briefly when greeting House Umber. Please accept my apologies for my attacking you as I was only defending my friend.”

“No big deal,” replied the Greatjon, “I am thankful that you just mercifully knocked me out.”

Brandon stepped forward and stated, “I’d like to have you in some sparring sessions with the other Lords tomorrow morning.”

Eddard was hesitant, “I’d be honored but I’m afraid I’ll have to decline brother. I will be meeting with Lord Rodrik Glover and Maester Alyn from Sea Dragon’s Point  along with Lord Gared Glover and his vassal lords to finalize the alliance agreements between House Glover and House Stark of Sea Dragon’s Point. After that I was asked to be on hand with Benjen and Father with Lord Jeor Mormont and Lord Gared Glover for the initial negotiations for the betrothal agreement between Benjen and Lady Dacey. After that I’d like to spend some time with my betrothed as well as our direwolves before we have to welcome the Houses from the Central and Southwest regions to Winterfell. I was thinking maybe perhaps going riding with Lya and Barbrey as it has been quite a few years since I've been on horseback,”

Eddard stood up as he noticed the Lords and Ladies filing in as Brandon stepped forward towards Eddard saying quietly to him, “You have all week to deal with the contracts for your realm with the Lords here, and I’m sure father doesn’t need your assistance right away with a betrothal for Ben."

Eddard looked at Brandon stating, "I'll talk to Ser Rodrik Cassel. Perhaps we can work something in with the training of Winterfell's newer men-at-arms. Give them a few lessons together?"

Brandon gripped Eddard’s shoulder firmly as he said this and Eddard felt his own blood rise, something leftover from the direwolf he was warged into last night began to rise within him. "You will show up for sparring tomorrow,” Brandon said in a commanding voice.  Eddard noticed the Lords behind Brandon take a step back and Lord Arnolf Burley looked down at his dogs oddly, as he felt Cregan behind him approaching as well as Lynara. 

“I will think about it, Bran,” said Eddard with a low growling but quiet voice. At this moment, the Lords behind Brandon seemed to step back even further. Eddard could smell fear for some odd reason all around him. 

It was at this moment that Eddard felt Barbrey’s hand on his right arm as Lyanna stepped forward next to her stating, “Feast is about to begin soon. We’ll need to take our places, brothers.”  Barbrey’s eyes briefly narrowed towards Brandon before she turned to Eddard, “Munu vér et mjök, minn  Konungr ór  Vetr?”  Brandon looked briefly towards Barbrey, his confused look becoming one of slight annoyance.

Eddard’s gaze softened as he looked to Barbrey nodding to the affirmative. Eddard himself felt slightly confused , as Barbrey directed Cregan and Lynara to lay by the Hearth. After she had done this, she headed with Lyanna to the High Table. The Lords dispersed to their own tables as Eddard seems to come back to a more lucid relaxed state as stated in a slightly more pleasant tone,  “As I said, I will think on it. Let’s go feast for now, Brother. I'm starved.” 

Brandon had still had an annoyed look on his face however as they walked back to the High Table. Last time he saw that expression on Brandon's face was when father stated how proud he was of Eddard regarding his archery skills before he left for his fostering in the Eyrie.  Although illiterate and unfamiliar with High Valyrian, Brandon did know Old Tongue. Brandon was never as fluent with the Old Tongue as Eddard was as he noticed Brandon took a few seconds before it registered that Barbrey said to him with Brandon listening:"Shall we feast, my King of Winter?"  

BARBREY IV 
Night, 19th day, 10th Moon,  280 A.C.

Barbrey had decided on a gown for the First Welcoming Feast that was a little less confining than her normal high collar gowns and going for something a little more revealing and frankly cooler given the warmth of the main room of the Great Hall with the hearths aflame and the amount of people feasting. She donned a greyish-white woolen gown with long bell sleeves, along with a very fitted dark bronze colored leather corsetted bodice with greyish-white laces. Around her neck, Barbrey decided to wear her mother’s silver heirloom pendant. Looking in the mirror she just realized it was the sigil of the House Ryder, down to the runes which read Ríð Sem Einn (“Ride as One”) encircling the edges of the pendant. She kept her braids in and put on the circlet she was wearing when Eddard and her first met.

Barbrey walked walked out from behind the privacy screen in Lyanna’s chambers. “So is this too much for a feast?”

Lyanna thought for a moment, “Not really actually. You have such a beautiful long and graceful neck. I always wonder why you cover it up.”  Lyanna was wearing a similar outfit to Barbrey which seemed to show off her relatively ample bosom on her slim but muscular frame. 

Barbrey remarked chuckling, “Well the Old Gods gift us in different ways,” as she motioned to Lyanna’s torso. 

Lyanna nodded, chuckling herself. Barbrey looked to the large dark grey direwolf lying patiently by the hearth in Lyanna’s chambers watching the two young women. “So do I look presentable enough for Eddard?” Barbrey said as she adjusted her pendant. Lynara chuffed with a nod. Barbrey understood the thought, Your mate will show affection no matter your covering.

Lynara whimpered slightly afterwards. “You want to see Cregan?”  said Barbrey, as Lynara chuffed enthusiastically. Of course. Are we leaving yet?. “Okay we should be heading down. Cregan’s probably getting a little restless waiting for Lynara as well.”

Lyanna and Barbrey donned their cloaks and made their way down the tower stairs to the lower levels of the kitchens and the cellars below which led the wormway between the Great Hall and the Great Keep.  The tunnel normally used during deepest winter during very heavy snowfalls and  when temperatures outside get so cold that it would be hazardous to travel outside for more than a few minutes.  Barbrey and Lyanna decided to do this mainly to not get the hems of their gowns dirty from all the mud mixed with the snow which had been the result of all the foot and horse traffic within the courtyard during the day. The corridor was large enough but slightly more cramped for Lynara’s huge form to follow behind them. 

They emerged in the lower service entrance of the Great Hall near the wine and ale cellars. Lynara seemed to have caught a scent of something as she sniffed the air and seemed more enthusiastic about moving forward. Mate is nearby with food, Barbrey interpreted from the enthusiastic brief chuff from Lynara. 

Lyanna chuckled as they came up the steps from a side exit to the wormway which led directly into the great room of the Great Hall. Lynara trotted enthusiastically ahead as she saw Cregan by one of the many large Hearths, apparently dining on a few freshly butchered auroch legs.  Lynara eagerly joined her mate who made room for her in front of the rather large platter holding the meal.

Barbrey and Lyanna went around the hall to mingle speaking briefly with Jorah and Alys Mormont, until Lyanna spotted something and grew concerned.

“Oh bloody hell, Brandon,” groaned Lyanna. Barbrey turned to see what was going on as she followed Lyanna as they headed towards one of the tables near the High Table. 

Barbrey saw Eddard standing talking to the Greatjon with a pleasant concerned look and then saw Brandon put his hand on Eddard’s shoulder in what would normally be considered a gesture of asserting dominance. She had only seen that from Masters-at-Arms grilling recruits during their first days of training to instill discipline. If a Lord did such to another Lord even a minor one or Vassal, it would normally be viewed as an insult or a challenge to a fight. Barbrey assumed the latter, whilst she would later find out it was most likely both.

Eddard’s back was to her but immediately she noticed everyone in the vicinity looking at the two brothers. Ser Wendel Manderly and Lord Rodrik Glover had stood from their seats upon Brandon’s gripping of Eddard’s shoulder as did Howland Reed.  The Greatjon took a step back as did the other Lords bearing witness.  She noticed another Lord wearing the colors of House Burley had two large mastiffs on a leash. 

They were only a few yards away as Barbrey heard Brandon say as if he was scolding an errant child, “... You will show up for sparring tomorrow.”  

All the air seemed to leave the room at that moment as she saw Eddard’s head turn slightly to stare at Brandon.  She could have sworn she heard a low wolflike growl emanating from Eddard as he stated, ““I will think about it, Bran,”  

Cregan and Lynara immediately stopped their meal and stalked over towards the area. The Burley Lord’s mastiffs immediately stretched forward in a submissive stance in Eddard’s direction backing up slowly almost dragging the Lord back.  The remainder of the Lords nearby stepped well back.  Cregan and Lynara were already near their side stalking towards where Eddard and Brandon were standing.  Barbrey saw the shadows around Eddard seem to grow darker and twist around resembling a similar silhouette to Cregan's.

Barbrey's memories of what her ancestor said began to course through her mind and she felt almost in a panic briefly before looking to Lyanna in a slightly commanding manner. Barbrey whispered softly to Lyanna, “I'll handle Eddard, Lyanna. You save Brandon from further doing anything foolish.”

Lyanna nodded as they proceeded towards the two brothers. Once they reached the area, Lyanna assertively stated, “Feast is about to begin soon. We’ll need to take our places, brothers.”   Barbrey eased herself towards Eddard’s right side and gently grabbed his arm, as she looked at Brandon with slight anger briefly. Snapping herself out of her own feelings towards Brandon and her concern for defusing the situation, Barbrey turned to Eddard and said in a softer soothing tone in Old Tongue, “Munu vér et mjök, minn  Konungr ór Vetr?”   Barbrey could see the shadows on the table and the wall beyond Eddard recede.

The tension in the room seemed to melt almost instantly upon those words, as Eddard seemed to relax a bit and nodded.  Barbrey heard vaious whispers during this moment but could not make out the words. She smiled at Eddard briefly and walked away briefly to guide Lynara and Cregan back to their meal in front of the hearth. She saw Brandon already seated at the High Table, Eddard on his way still discussing matters with Lord Rodrik Glover. 

Barbrey proceeded to make her way towards the High Table as she was stopped by one of the more Northern serving maids who said, “Eingvífinnr megsuþjōner vargrrinn.”  Barbrey turned to the woman who merely said , “þakka, minn Dróttning,” with a curtsy as she went with her two large pitchers of ale to replenish the table occupied by House Wull and House Burley.  The wolf can only be soothed/calmed by his mate? thought Barbrey as she translated in her head.

She arrived at the High Table at a seat between Lyanna and Eddard. Eddard was finishing his conversation with Lord Rodrik Glover before turning to Barbrey, "I was discussing with Lord Rodrik spending my remaining time after the Gathering and when I head back to the Eyrie at Sea Dragon's Point.  I would like you to visit there for a few days so you can familiarize yourself with the castle given it will be yours to manage as the Lady of Sea Dragon's Point and the Sunset Coast. Lord Rodrik Glover will be available during that time to assist."

Barbrey nodded, "I will need to ensure I have the proper staff available once we are wed.  I assume there's no problem with Cregan and Lynara moving with us?"

Eddard said, "I don't think so, although the Godswood of Sea Dragon's Point may be a bit more cramped."

Lord Rodrik Glover stated, "There is a single smaller Heart Tree in the middle of the main courtyard of the castle.  However, the nearby forest about half a league away does have a couple of rings of wild weirwoods as well as plenty of conifers.  The border between your territory and House Bole's is Crystal Stream and their woodsman don't work on your side of the stream which runs to the edge of House Woods where it's actually in a clearing all the way to the wilds areas of the Wolfswood which are technially House Stark of Winterfell. At any rate, there is a wild section of forest the direwolves can frolic in half a league from the castle at Sea Dragon's Point. "

Barbrey smiled, "Perfect. I'll definitely have some ideas for the household but I won't know until I get there. Thank you , Lord Rodrik Glover."

Lord Rodrik Glover nodded, "You are very welcome, Lady Barbrey." Lord Rodrik Glover turned to Eddard stating, "If we're done, my Lord, I will go take my seat with the rest of my House."

Eddard nodded with a pleasant smile to Lord Rodrik Glover and leaned back in his chair.  Barbrey was to his right and he glanced to his left towards his father.  Lord Rickard Stark seemed to be in some debate with Brandon. Eddard sighed leaning forward looking at his plate before grabbing an oatcake and watching the crowd of people.  Barbrey ate her food next to Eddard who remained oddly silent.

There were some travelling minstrels and bards playing for their entertainment, and it appears as though some of the workers in the local brothel had been covertly been let into the hall. Lyanna pointed out the extra serving wenches a few of which were recognizable. Barbrey caught a glimpse of Brandon dancing with one of the whores posing as wenches. To her viewing such hurt slightly as a reminder that  . Barbrey felt some pity for Lady Catelyn Tully if Brandon did not change his ways. But then again Hoster Tully wasn't the most chaste and faithful to his wife as well, so maybe the Riverlanders were used to it, as long as there were no bastards and any that existed kept a very low profile or preferably were sent to the Wall. After a while whilst the Stark family was mingling, it was just Barbrey and Eddard left at the High Table eating their meal together quietly.

Barbrey noticed that Eddard seemed to be minding her subtly as they ate which was different from the way she was with Brandon. She seemed to devour the Auroch ribs but left the lamprey pie as she didn't really care for it. Eddard had given her the rest of his ribs in exchange for her untouched piece of lamprey pie, asking kindly before doing so. He also seemed to offer to pour her some ale if he refilled his mug.  Barbrey noticed a similar behaviour earlier between Cregan and Lynara.

Barbrey put her hand on Eddard's shoulder gently turning towards him. Eddard seemed to be deep in thought about something before he turned in reaction to her touch, "A copper for your thoughts?" she said playfully.

Eddard smiled briefly then paused for a few seconds before speaking. "Brandon wanted me to end our betrothal." Barbrey herself felt her anger rise briefly as Eddard continued, “I obviously told him no given frankly I’m currently of the opinion that the betrothal and the wedding for that matter are merely formalities meant for the realms of men. Since you’ve become bonded to Lynara, Cregan’s mate, I am yours and you are mine as far as I’m concerned.”

Barbrey seemed taken aback by Eddard's statement, but the more rational part of her mind told he it did make sense, given the events which had occurred since she awoke with a hangover from too much Runceford Strongwine. She smiled briefly, before asking, “Why did he?”

“He wants me as a sort of Lord Commander rather than a Lord,” said Eddard “In actuality, he wants an obedient attack dog, I essentially told him the extent of my power, the fact that his extends only as far as what he inherits from father, and he needs to work at earning the trust of his future Lords. He’s also ill-equipped to be Lord Paramount of the North if he’s going to be dealing with anyone in the South or the Crown. For example, he knows no High Valyrian which will I would think would be a necessity in when dealing with the Crown who happens to be Valyrian in descent. I doubt his worthiness to be father’s heir.”   

“I’m guessing he didn’t take that well,” said Barbrey.

“I think he was in shock,” said Eddard , “Which seemed kind of odd actually.”

“This is more due to neither of you really knowing each other" replied Barbrey, knowing full well Brandon's nature from their past. Barbrey continued, as her hand moved to the side of Eddard's cheek, "You, my dear betrothed, used to be the quiet second son who wouldn't object to anything he ever said. Lyanna can back me up on this. He'd propose doing some outrageous stunt, we'd tell him not to do so, and the instant response was 'Ned would back me up on this. He'd never dare say no to me.' You never beat him at anything except for - and  I remember Lyanna telling me about this - the time you both were practicing your archery with Ser Rodrik Cassel and there were some Lords visiting and you demonstrated you were the better bowman than he.  I'm sure you remember his reaction to that."

Eddard nodded, "So why...."

Barbrey said slightly aside, "In case you haven't already figured it out, You did not return from the Eyrie as the meek compliant Ned which Brandon and frankly most of the North, was expecting.  The shocked look you saw on his face was his realization of such. There were rumors floating around of your escape from captivity that didn't mesh with the official story coming from the Lord Paramount of the Vale. " The official story behind Eddard's captivity was that he was captive by the Mountain Clans who had been selling their captives to Tyroshi Slavers and that the Knights of the Vale had smashed their operation. This was obviously far from the truth once word reached the North of how Eddard was found near Grey Glen by the Lord Elbert Arryn and House Tollett's troops. The events of the past week with Eddard had spread throughout the North and amongs the Lords who are arriving.  "While the realms to the Northwest and Far North regions welcome the Eddard Stark I am sitting next to, others such as your brother have a difficult time accepting that you're not that meek compliant boy who left Winterfell over eight years ago. Brandon has never accepted any situation he doesn't like and he tends to lash out at it. Unfortunately he's not one to step back and think things through and tends to act on his rather short-temper."

"Father says it's 'the wolf's blood'," Eddard said as he leaned towards Barbrey.

Barbrey shook her head, "That's not 'the wolf's blood'. That's having a short temper and not having anyone challenge you because of your position.  If anyone demonstrated what having 'the wolf's blood' really was, it was you tonight once Brandon put his hand on your shoulder and tried to pick a fight with you."

Eddard seemed to stiffen slightly, "Sorry about that. I ..."

Barbrey said, "Well Lyanna and I were able to calm things down so ... water under the bridge...."  Barbrey did try to not make light of the issue, although she did not want Eddard to dwell on it. In later years, Barbrey would read Maester Ulfanc's Compendium on the Magicks of the North, Fourteenth Edition in particular the chapter on Wargs, confirming what she had already known for years by that time about her husband's and children's gifts, finding further documentation that powerful wargs would often take on some of the aspects of the creatures they bond with. Given the magical element also involved with warging as well the reactions of those in the room, both human and otherwise, Brandon himself was in more danger than he may have realized. Barbrey had felt compelled to act.

"It was more you than Lyanna," stated Eddard.

"Aye," said Barbrey. "I admit it was. And I suppose it's best we are comfortable with each other given what I've been told by the Old Gods."

"Well it is good you informed me of Royce Bolton's impending siege of Winterfell," responded Eddard. "I...."

"When I spoke to my ancestor, Queen Ygertha of the Rills," said Barbrey slowly as she leaned on Eddard for comfort. "She had said that you were more like the sigil of your House than you may realize. Direwolves like all wolves mate for life with the male, especially the alpha, always dependent on his mate for guidance. I never knew really how accurate that statement of my ancestors and the Old Gods was until tonight when I took your arm right after Brandon provoked you."  

Eddard looked to Barbrey, "How so?"

"What people viewed in this room tonight from you, until Lyanna and I intervened, frighteningly resembled what  your Master-at-Arms described his meeting Cregan in the Wolfswood when he was there with his rangers to retrieve the bodies of Lord Addam Terrick and his two squires," said Barbrey.

"Why would Brandon....? "

"You've been away from your home for eight years so you may have missed a lot regarding your siblings' nature outside of what you've been told by your father and friends in the Eyrie. I personally know Brandon has a way of tweaking people's noses in order to start a fight. I've seen him do this before. Brandon's been lucky so far as he's always been the better swordsman or the opponent feared his House name enough to back down,"  said Barbrey. "He would have provoked you into almost killing him which would have divided House Stark and would have....at best your Father would have sent you to the Wall and we would not be able to fulfill.... "  Barbrey stopped for a moment.

Eddard looked concerned and leaned towards Barbrey. "Barbrey?"

"The Old Gods through Ygertha's shade told me our children will be important for the forces of the good during the Long Night, " said Barbrey gravely, becoming frightened of what she knows.

"It's almost the end of winter now and it's a very mild one, Barbrey," said Eddard, attempting to reassure her.

"Eight years from now the longest summer in thousands of years will begin lasting more than a decade, then followed by Winter. There is only one other time in history where a summer lasted that long to be followed by a Winter just as long," said Barbrey, feeling the full weight of the prophecy delivered by the Old Gods on her shoulders.

Eddard slumped back in his seat as it hit him as well. "The Long Night."

"Our children and all the children of my goodsisters - Dacey, Lyanna, even Lady Catelyn  - will play a part in bringing us out of the Long Night from what I've been told."

Eddard looked grimly serious after that, "Then we must prepare for such. House Stark's plans for the North will help us survive the Long Night when it comes, but it will not help us any if we cripple our children's chances by foolish actions now. I understand." Eddard exhaled and was silent for a few moments before saying, "That's a lot to take in." 

Barbrey would later on in life tell the father of her children that was the first time she remembers him making a humorous understatement. "Aye, it is."  Eddard and Barbrey sat there holding each other in their seats at the High Table for a while as everyone around them was enjoying the feast and mingling. 

After a bit of time, Eddard said, "We probably may want to get up and mingle as well."

Barbrey looked at Eddard for a moment moving closer to him as they both stood up. Barbrey moved closer to Eddard and put her hand on the back of his neck and pulled him closer. "Not just yet," she said as she pulled him in for a kiss. She could tell Eddard seemed confused at first, but after a few seconds it seemed neither of them could let go of each other. Barbrey felt Eddard grab onto her waist to support her as she felt herself become weak at the knees, as she wrapped her other arm around him.

Their moment of passion was however seemed to come to a halt as she heard someone clearing their throat behind her. She looked in Eddard's eyes and could see the angry wolf beginning to surface. She was able to calm him down merely squeezing his hand as she turned around.  In front of her was Rickard Stark looking fairly angry with Brandon Stark standing behind him and Lady Maege Mormont slightly to the side.

Lord Rickard Stark merely looked at Eddard somewhat angrily and said, "Go immediately to my Solar. I will meet you there shortly."   Barbrey's eyes narrowed at the smirking Brandon behind Lord Rickard Stark.

Eddard nodded to his father and kissed Barbrey gently on the forehead as he passed, whispering, "Take care of Cregan, Lynara will be with you so it shouldn't be too difficult."  Eddard then walked off towards the main exit to the main room of the Great Hall.

Once Eddard was some distance away, Lord Rickard Stark then looked to Barbrey, "And you will not be provoking any rivalry between the two brothers."

"With all due respect Lord Stark," began Barbrey, "I am not the one instigating...."

Lord Rickard Stark held his hand up, "We will discuss this later."  Lord Rickard Stark stalked off with Brandon Stark following behind him. 

Lady Maege approached a stunned Barbrey at that moment. "I hope you don't mind me bothering you but Alysanne seems to have wandered off . Dacey was watching her but became distracted and .... "

Barbrey snapped out of it, looking over to Lynara briefly. She felt herself ease into Lynara's vision and noticed Lynara had been asleep by the hearth, with Cregan next to her. Lynara opened her eyes to see a small human child asleep herself against Lynara. Lynara then proceeded to lick the child's head twice, smelling her. Hairless one's pup needs protection. Will await her mother. Lynara then lay so she was essentially curled around the child. Barbrey immediately recognized the features on the child were Maege's daughters'

Lady Maege immediately stated, "What happened to your eyes? You were just...."

Barbrey smiled, "Alysanne is probably in the safest place possible within this Great Hall. Lynara's curled around her like she's one of her pups."

Maeges seemed relieved, as Barbrey took her by the hand. They reached Lynara who uncurled as she recognized the scent from the child when Maege approached.  Alysanne woke up and was nudged towards Maege by Lynara.

"I sleep on bear-mama," said Alysanne.

Maege corrected, "That's a direwolf, Aly."

"No, that bear-mama!," repeated Alysanne.  Barbrey smiled chuckling as she looked to Lynara who chuffed briefly. Tell hairless pup , I am not bear, Lynara meant by her chuffs. Barbrey gave Lynara a brief embrace as Lyanna approached with Benjen and Dacey. Benjen followed Shadow over to Cregan. Maege left with Alysanne towards where Lord Rodrik Glover and Lord Gared Glover as well as all of House Mormont were standing.

Barbrey looked to Lyanna as she spoke, "If your brother doesn't kill Brandon, I think I will. "

Lyanna nodded, "If you're referring to father interrupting that moment between you and Ned, something else is going on. Maester Walys came in with three ravens for father and he read those and immediately went to go get Brandon."

Barbrey stated, "But he all but accused me of provoking whataver's going on between Brandon and Eddard?"

Lyanna nodded, "What exact words did he use? Did he say 'stop provoking' or did he use a command stating 'you will not provoke'?"

Barbrey nodded, "The latter."

Lyanna stated, "If Brandon was standing next to him, he stated it in that manner to shut Brandon up. Something's goimg on, but father's not angry at you."  Barbrey seemed slightly more relieved as Lyanna donned a mischievous smile, "However, I know for sure that Eddard might be just the one for you when you too were kissing."

Barbrey asked, "Why do you say that?"

Lyanna and Dacey surprisingly said at the same time, "Trouble standing up."

Barbrey blushed as she noted that it was noticeable by her two future goodsisters. Dacey laughed out loud with her rather odd snorting laugh as Lyanna smiled, "Don't worry. Robert had me almost fainting for our first kiss a few years back. Luckily he was carrying me at the time being much taller."

The three future goodsisters spent the rest of the night with Benjen and the Direwolves before heading to the Godswood. A shelter had been built which functioned as a den for the direwolves around 20 yards from the Heart Tree. After a while Benjen, Dacey and Shadow remained in the Godswood as Lyanna and Barbrey headed back to the Great Keep via the Library Tower to turn in for the night.

Barbrey went to sleep in Lyanna's room and put Cregan to sleep in Eddard's room with Lynara following her in with Lyanna. Around end of the Hour of the Wolf she woke up as Lynara nudged her awake. Lynara wanted to be near Cregan so Barbrey guided her to Eddard's room.  Lynara immediately found where Cregan was lying and snuggled up next to him. It had dawned on Babrey that Eddard's room was actually quite sizable but sparsely furnished give the ability for it to allow two fully grown direwolves to comfortably lie in front of the hearth and take up the entire space in the room.

Barbrey then turned for the door but hesitated as she saw the moonlit form of Eddard lying on the bed asleep. Barbrey wanted to be near her betrothed, to be next to him, to be held close as Cregan was with Lynara currently. Barbrey lay down next to Eddard giving him a kiss on the cheek. She felt Eddard wake up briefly pull the furs over the both of them returning the kiss before she settled into his arms.

"So did you get told to be a good obedient wolf for Brandon by your father?" she said in teasing manner.

"No." said Eddard exhaustedly. "In my opinion, he currently doesn't deserve to be father's heir nor is he qualified to be such. We're working together on getting him up to speed on that. Hopefully he'll do more listening around father than shouting orders at myself and Benjen. I'll tell you more tomorrow."

Eddard seemed exhausted however as he held he close whilst he fell back asleep. Barbrey sighed figuring she might as well get some sleep as well giving the chaotic past few days. Perhaps in the morning, she thought rather mischievously, she'd awaken some other aspects of her Eddard's wolf.  Barbrey fell fast asleep with a smile on her face. She awoke briefly sometime during the Hour of the Nightengale to the sound of the door opening then shutting. Barbrey assumed this may have been one of the night housemaid or manservants, possibly ensuring that the hearth was not untended or the guards making their rounds and checking in the rooms for any strange noises. She snuggled closer to Eddard and went back to sleep.

BRANDON III
Night, 19th day, 10th Moon,  280 A.C.

Ser Donnel Locke scratched his head as he seemed frustrated with Brandon. "I don't know then what to tell you. I told you what I saw when he passed our dogs. Same thing happened with Lord Burley's mutts. And of course there's the two massive direwolves that suddenly appeared behind him. "

Lord Theo Wull stated matter-of-factly, "There's four more of 'em in the Godswood. Surprised if they weren't agitated as well. Then again young Benjen and Maege's oldest have been around them alot more with that direwolf pup of his." Lord Theo Wull said to Arnolf, "Now I know what those dark magicks Ulla Under-the-Hill had mentioned about wargs a few days before we left ... seen it first hand with Lord Eddard tonight..."

Lord Arnolf Burley drank some of his ale, nodding to the Wull before turning to Brandon, "All I have to say, Brandon, is you are so lucky the Ryswell girl showed up when she did. Looks like she's already able to fulfill the 'mama wolf' role. Only two things can calm down an angry male wolf or direwolf : killing the thing he's mad at or his mate calming him down. "

Brandon scoffed, "Just like Barbrey to stick her nose in the middle of  ... "

Ser Donnel Locke countered, "Zakaro the Dothraki and his men weren't just any brigands. Your brother also took down the Greatjon without any weapons. You don't just knock other Lords about like they're new recruits and you're the drill instructor under the castle's Master-at-Arms, even if that Lord is your brother."

Brandon scoffed again, "Ned needs to learn his place." 

Lord Arnolf Burley stated, "I think he already has. From what I've heard, he's rather welcome as the Lord of Sea Dragon's Point from what I've heard from House Glover and House Mormont. And we did ask your brother about the Oath of Fealty when we arrived and Lord Eddard was their to greet us. Eddard said that neither you nor your father were able to be present for such upon our arrival, hence the reason why my House and the rest of the Houses who arrived via Hunter's Gate this smorning swore such at the beginning of this feast. If you're worried about him usurping you, I daresay you're worrying about an event which will never happen."

Brandon responded, “I’m going to recommend to father for Eddard to forget the betrothal to Barbrey Ryswell. We’ll set her up for a betrothal with a suitable Lord, perhaps yourself Ser Donnel.  Eddard I need as a Lord Commander, not a Lord.  And focused on following his liege’s directions.”

Ser Donnel Locke motioned to Barbrey and Eddard who seemed to be pleasantly embraced as they were talking over their dinner, “It is very difficultt to put the ale back in the cask when it’s already poured into the horn, Lord Brandon.  At any rate, the more she looks at your brother, the less likely she is to geld you.” Ser Donnel Locke chuckled rather drunkenly.

Lord Rickard Stark arrived at their table. Ser Donnel Locke, Lord Arnolf Burley, Lord Halys Hornwood as well as Lord Theo Wull all stood as their Liege arrived. Lady Donella remained seated as was a Lady's privilege.  Lord Rickard Stark nodded towards each of them warmly before looking to Brandon and saying, "Brandon, you and I and your brother Eddard need to talk. We will need to meet in my Solar. Whatever it is between you two, both of you will need to get over it. There are other more important issues regarding House Stark which are going on at the moment."

Brandon looked over to the High Table and saw Barbrey in Eddard's arms, embracing each other in what appeared to be a passionate kiss. Brandon in reaction downed the rest of his ale and smashed the mug on the table cracking the horn part leaving the metal frame. Lord Rickard Stark looked at Brandon and then at Eddard and Barbrey. 

"We'll have to ask Ned to put aside his affections for Lady Barbrey for the time being," said Lord Rickard Stark. 

Brandon smirked. Whatever the reason, Brandon was satisfied that in his mind what was once his will remain his. They arrived at the area behind the High Table, and he could see the angry wolf coming back in his brother's eyes. Oddly it seemed to go away as Barbrey gripped Eddard's hand.

Lord Rickard Stark looked at Eddard and stated authoritatively, "Go immediately to my Solar. I will meet you there shortly."  Eddard merely nodded before kissing Barbrey briefly whilst whispering something to her before he walked off towards the main exit to the main room of the Great Hall.

Brandon saw his father wait a moment before stating to Barbrey, "And you will not be provoking any rivalry between the two brothers."

"With all due respect Lord Stark. I am not the one who is ...." rebutted Barbrey.

Lord Rickard Stark held his hand up Brandon guess to silence the insolent woman, "We will discuss this later."   Brandon smirked at this. With any luck, she'll be sent back to the Rills. 

Brandon followed his father back to the Great Keep and up the tower to his Solar. They arrived and Eddard was not the only one in the room. In the room was Maester Walys as well. Lord Rickard Stark said authoritatively, “Sit down, both of you now.”

Brandon smirked complying as Eddard took his seat slowly. 

Lord Rickard Stark looked at Eddard, “I specifically remember having a conversation with you this morning. I remember saying : As long as you know your place as subordinate to House Stark of Winterfell. I am satisfied. That does not mean starting a fight with the heir to House Stark of Winterfell.”

Brandon smirked, “A soldier does not attack his commanding officer when he gives the soldier instructions.”  

Eddard lookd at his brother, "First of all, father, I did not start any fight. Grabbing a Lord's shoulder in the manner Brandon had done to me was either him being foolish and ignorant or he was directly challenging me to a duel.  There also was no fight. Luckily my betrothed, Barbrey , and our sister, Lyanna, intervened before anything really happened."

Lord Rickard Stark looked at Brandon Stark, "Honestly Brandon, both of you are not boys in the tiltyard anymore. You should know that what you did is directly challenge a Lord. Even if it is your brother."  He looked towards Eddard, "However,Eddard that doesn't explain what happened. Lord Arnolf Burley described his hunting dogs as fearful and taking a very submissive stance immediately before Eddard. Lord Theo Wull said the entire hall seemed to darken around you before he said he realized it was your shadow growing and was shaped like a direwolf. There were similar statements from the other Lords and Ladies regarding dark magicks at work..."

Howland Reed spoke up, "My Lord I believe I can explain that. I've learned knowledge of wargs from several more experienced woods witches and greenmen during m journey towards being a full greenseer. Wargs, especially powerful ones, absorb if you will the essence of the animal they had warged into. The essence gradually diffuses and is buried within the Warg after the warging has ended as their human side resurfaces. But if the warging lasts longer, the warg will almost seem to take on characteristics of the animal they warged into.  Lord Eddard had been in a warging state for at least nine hours for the massacre of the Bolton Army after sunset last night until very early this morning. So there was quite of that direwolf still surfaced in him." Howland looked to Brandon, "Your sister Lyanna informed me that she let you know about the massacre event earlier today after the welcome at the South Gate. "

Lord Rickard Stark nodded, "Fair enough. I'm assuming Lady Barbrey had something to do with bringing him down from this state, from what I hear?"

Howland Reed nodded, "Yes, My Lord."

Eddard nodded, "I wish to continue to pursue the betrothal to Lady Barbrey Ryswell, father. Brandon seems to disagree with my pursuit of such."

Brandon stated, "We don't need another Lord for Sea Dragon's Point and the Sunset Coast. We need a Lord Commander, a military rank that follows orders from Winterfell unquestioningly. Not another Lord we have to woo with alliances. Lord Commanders do not marry."

Lord Rickard Stark looked at Brandon, "And how do you propose we placate House Ryswell for your indiscretions?"

"100,000 gold dragons plus a betrothal to another House. I have a few Lords I can contact," stated Brandon as he smirked.

Eddard said simply, "No."

Lord Rickard Stark looked at Eddard, "I need someone strong for that position who will not be distracted from ... "

Eddard vehemently retorted, "Having my betrothed near me has hardly been a distraction."

Brandon stated, "So you weren't distracted when we approached..."

Eddard responded, "Kissing my betrothed?  I hardly call that a distraction from my duties. The very fact I am a Lord and not a Lord Commander has allowed me to do my duties. I will need both Lord Rodrik Glover and Lady Barbrey Ryder's assistance in .... "

Brandon corrected, "Ryswell."  How could he forget her House name? House Ryder has been dead for centuries. thought Brandon.

Eddard seemed confused, "Come again?"

Brandon stated , "You said Barbrey Ryder."

Howland chuckled, "Inadvertent mistake most likely on your brother's part. Barbrey Ryswell is the direct matrilineal descendant of Queen Ygertha Ryder."

Eddard realized his mistake and briefly chuckled.

Brandon stated, "Perhaps you're not qualified if you need assistance to ..."

Eddard countered, "All good Lords will require the assistance of their Castellan and other staff for planning as well as their Lady. Father is not alone in that either with Maester Walys, Ser Rodrik Cassel and Eldric Poole assistance being vital to keeping Winterfell running. Mother, Old Gods bless her soul as she watches us through the Heart Tree, assisted father in ruling the North. She did more than just give birth to us, brother." Eddard then stated something in High Valyrian, looking at Lord Rickard Stark.

Lord Rickard Stark's eyes narrowed at Eddard. "Speak common tongue, Eddard."

Eddard defiantly stated, "Yes. Brandon appears to be worse at High Valyrian than he is in Old Tongue. I said Kepa, ao jorrāelagon iā dārilaros qilōni iksis daor iā dovodedha mittys.  Translated that means, 'Father, you need an heir who is not an ignorant fool.'  Your heir is good a swordsmanship apparently. He can ride a horse fairly well. I suppose he can carry documents back and forth for you for the Lords of your Realm. Would you trust him to govern? To set up alliances between Lords?  How will he do in the South when he has to go before assuming King Rhaegar Targaryen to swear his fealty when you're gone?" Eddard paused, "In that last one I say the North is fucked in court once Brandon becomes Lord Paramount since he doesn't know any High Valyrian, past I'm guessing a few curse words and the necessary phrases required to order certain services from the Lyseni whores in a pillowhouse.'"

Brandon's anger reached a boiling point at what he perceived as his younger brother's defiance and insolence. Brandon immediately stood up and lunged at Eddard who was quickly on his feet. Brandon threw a punch directly at Eddard's face which he quickly dodged, faster than Brandon had anticipated. In one motion, Eddard had grabbed the arm of Brandon's which threw the punch and planted him face down on the ground, holding the arm in a lock that was increasingly painful. Brandon felt like his arm would snap in two at the elbow. 

Eddard calmly stated, "Don't ever do that again, Brandon. Outside of our father's Solar and definitely outside of the North, that sort of action can get you killed. You are lucky I am your brother and do not intend to be cursed as a kinslayer."

Lord Rickard Stark held the bridge of his nose in his right hand, "Release him, Eddard."

Eddard released the pressure on Brandon's arm slowly then released him, stepping back as Brandon got to his feet. Brandon was still in shock at the sheer speed and power at which his younger brother had avoided the blow and was able to counter him.

Eddard stated, "The last thing I want to do is suggest perhaps you reconsider who your heir is, father. Tempting as it may be at this point."  Eddard took a deep breath, "My becoming your heir will only cause chaos as far as the North's external relationships. Lord Hoster Tully would look to break the betrothal to Brandon and look to break mine to Barbrey so he can place Lady Catelyn as the Lady Paramount and that would tear apart the loyalty of the Northen Lords currently. House Targaryen will also view me as an active threat once I become Lord Paramount, given their ties to Vidar Tarraenos. Given most of the South from what I am hearing views me as Theon the Hungry Wolf come again, this would be counterproductive to any trade being built up with us and long term funding from profits for further development of the Sunset Coast."  He took a deep breath, "So we have a bit of a diemma here, father. with your eldest being rather unqualified for the position he is deigned to inherit."

Lord Rickard Stark nodded, "What then do you suggest we do, Eddard? He is the eldest."

Brandon was furious. How dare Eddard say he was unqualified as heir. I'm the eldest. That should be enough.

Lord Eddard stated, "I suggest perhaps Brandon sit in with you and observe rather than participate in negotiations and mediations with the Lords. I would also suggest he learn High Valyrian as well as perhaps Rhoynish. The latter will help once we have trader traffic running down both shores and we have an influx of Salty Dornish. If we ever have to negotiate anything with House Martell that will also come in handy. Do you know what Brandon's strengths are ? "

Lord Rickard Stark stated, "He's excellent at military tactics and strategy. He's lacking in more advanced negotiation skills outside of the basics. Brandon knows enough to read the ledgers for running a castle and could be a Castellan if he wasn't in line to be the Lord Paramount, but seems to be missing some of the big picture as far as some of the economics."

Eddard replied, "So basically just a little rough around the edges and needs some lessons in diplomacy and economics, as well as some customs and cultural education along with the mentioned languages."

Lord RIckard Stark said "Yes that seems to be a correct assessment."  Brandon seemed slightly confused.  Lord Rickard Stark stated, "Lord Jon Arryn said you had become fast friends with his second heir Denys Arryn. And Denys Arryn had tutored you this past year."

Eddard shifted his stance as he said, "Yes he did. Why do you ask?"

"I think I may have him brought up here under the pretense that he's tutoring you further, Eddard. We'll have him assist Maester Walys in getting Brandon up to speed on the academic subjects required for Brandon to be a Lord Paramount," stated Lord Rickard Stark.

Eddard Stark said ,"That would be an excellent idea, father"

Lord Rickard Stark looked at Brandon, "Brandon, you will be shadowing me during the Winter Gathering of the Lords with the settling of disputes and changes to current alliance as well as fealty agreements. I would also like you to do so afterwards as I meet with your brothers and their castellans regarding the further development of the North."

Brandon nodded, "Very well." He couldn't argue with his father on this. Brandon still thought he was plenty qualified but did realize that Eddard did make a few points that had convinced his father that some remedial action was required.  At worse, he figued learn a new language so he can understand when his brother is insulting him.

Eddard said somewhat constructively, "You'll like Denys. He's very patient and has a good sense of humor."

Brandon brought up the subject of Eddard's betrothal, "So Eddard's status as a Lord or Lord Commander?"

Lord Rickard Stark looked at Brandon and then Eddard, "You mean whether the betrothal to Lady Barbrey Ryswell remains ? That would be up to Eddard. However, given the circumstances behind the after effects of Eddard warging for an extended period of time and Lady Barbrey being the only one who can seem to assist him in getting such under control, I'd say it's a sign from the Old Gods to let the betrothal go through."

Lord Rickard Stark looked at Eddard then to Maester Walys, "70,000 Gold Dragons to House Ryswell plus betrothal of Barbrey to Eddard, I believe Eddard's proposal would be. Maester Walys, if you could draw up the agreements so they are ready by the time Lord Rodrick Ryswell and his House arrives."

Brandon cursed inwardly, before his father looked at Eddard and  then him. "So it is settled. Eddard will be the Lord of Sea Dragon's Point and the territory along the Sunset Coast. He will marry Lady Barbrey Ryswell who will become Lady Barbrey of House Stark of Sea Dragon's Point.  Eddard?  You are a Lord of the North. What do you say to your Lord Paramount."

Eddard looked to his father, bending the knee before him,  "Lord Rickard of House Stark of Winterfell, I will guard your life and keep your counsel and give my blood for yours if need be. I swear it by the Old Gods."

Lord Rickard Stark returned the liege's part of the Oath, "Lord Eddard of House Stark of Sea Dragon's Point,  I vow that you shall always have a place by my hearth, and meat and mead at my table. And I pledge to ask no service of you that might bring you dishonor. I swear it by the Old Gods." 

Brandon noticed that both his brother and father had performed the oath in Common Tongue. He would have expected Eddard to use the Old Tongue. Lord Rickard Stark looked to Brandon, then to Eddard and Howland Reed, "Okay now that we have that out of the way. Lord Howland, Lord Eddard,  I have a few things I wish to discuss with my heir along with my Maester."

Eddard nodded as did Howland Reed before leaving the Solar. Brandon just had realized at this moment his father treated Lord Eddard as just another Lord, not one in the line of succession to Winterfell and certainly not as his son. The door closed and the footsteps faded as Lord Rickard Stark turned to Maester Walys, "Maester Walys, will you hand me those three ravens you brought to me earlier this evening?"  Maester Walys complied, handing Rickard Stark the ravens. Lord Rickard Stark handed the first raven to Brandon, "Read this one first."

Brandon noticed the odd seal, a wreath of  roses surrounded by old North runes which read ‘MhS’. 

To Lord Rickard Stark,

We have deployed 5000 of our troops to surround the Dreadfort in preparation for a siege to bring House Bolton to heel. I am currently travelling with House Karstark putting on the mummers' show of being one of their army lieutenants as the two hundred of our men. We have discovered something very interesting and disturbing at the Great Northern Clearing in the Wolfswood just south of the Northern Mountains in its foothills.

House Bolton was apparently planning a siege of Winterfell as we have encountered their camp, or more accurately what remains of their camp. it appears as though they had been ambushed whilst encamped and most of the forces were sleeping or resting. Signs point to what can be best described as an unnatural ambush however. We counted about 3142 individual bodies in various forms of dismemberment. Based on the injuries, our best guess is they were torn apart by a very large pack of direwolves. Our rangers count at least one hundred or more individual tracks. They also state the size and shape of the bitemarks and shearmarks on the severed limbs are consistent with fully grown male direwolves. Mind you it did take a little while for the counting since some had their heads crushed or, in the case of the archers' tents, the bodies were left in a pile.

Oddly the horses for the cavalry were unharmed and merely seemed to have pulled themselves loose during the chaos. We found them grazing a short distance away.

We discovered three bodies however in the only tent left standing which were not killed by direwolves.

The first was a man we thought initially was Lord Royce Bolton given the clothes he was wearing until we examined him. It was evident there was an attempt at a hasty coverup of his death. The face itself has been removed. We do know that Royce Bolton had spent some time with the House of Black and White so he may know their secrets. This is most likely a soldier so Royce Bolton is most likely en route to Winterfell or en route to the Dreadfort.

The second body was a bit of a mystery. It was a lady dressed in leather armor with House Bolton markings. She seemed to have had been drained of blood but we could not find any wounds on her body. The body was identified as a Lady Abagal Bolton, Lady Royce Bolton's wife.

The third body was mutilated and flayed lying on one of the X shaped crosses used by House Bolton for displaying their flayed victims. We foind her clothing and other personal items to the side.  One of the Karstark Guards idenitfied this body as belonging to a local but powerful woods witch named Weirwood Wylla.

My guess is House Bolton has angered more than just House Stark to warrant this sort of massacre. I would recommend treading carefully around the warg who was able to coordinate and execute the attack. I am guessing it may be an associate of Weirwood Wylla, one does not do what the Boltons did to a woods witch without dire consequences. I'm guessing Abagal Bolton's demise was part of those consequences.

Additionally, we do have some information that the Bolton army was working in conjunction with a sellsword company called the Spears of Damnation who will be travelling up through the Neck. Indications from the correspondence we found in the tent indicate that they are possibly transporting a substance called 'wildfire' for use during the siege of Winterfell.

We have sent word back to Karhold to bring another woods witch out here to consecrate this ground to lift the curse. Meanwhile we are burning the bodies and praying to the Old Gods for their souls. I will send a raven with further information if we receive it. Otherwise, we shall meet in Winterfell in two days.

Theon Snow, Eldest Son of the Wolfmother

Brandon slumped in his chair after reading such. Lord Rickard Stark began, "The ability for Eddard to be able to do this to the Boltons is too much power for him to possess and remain somewhat independent. You were right in attempting to bring him to heel, but he's too intelligent and independent to be brought into line in that manner. We do have his loyalty at least as kin and with that oath of fealty he is placated. For now he can just consider himself the Lord of a branch house."

Brandon seemed slightly confused and concerned, "You act as if he's not my brother."

Lord Rickard Stark stated, "The son I sent away eight years ago for fostering is not the man who returned. I had written off Eddard as dead and with Lyarra and the Old Gods years ago. I did not expect much from his return. When I saw what appeared to be more of a battle-scarred veteran than a young man ready to take his place as my heir's right hand man, I'd thought "  Lord Rickard Stark stated coldly, "Whilst he's solved the House Ryswell problem at least for us and he was right regarding your need for further education to be a competent Lord Paramount, he will just be another Lord. We can potentially call upon him perhaps as I suspect the Lord of the Rock and former King's Hand seems to be calling upon that young just-knighted giant to solve problems for him."

Brandon nodded. Eddard told me earlier he wasn't going to be an attack dog, which is exactly what father wants him as. He's still my brother however. Brandon seemed conflicted with this revelation from his father. Brandon said, "Aye. One question about Eddard....where did he learn High Valyrian?"

Lord Rickard Stark stated, "I'm assuming after his release from captivity in the Eyrie as part of his studies."

Brandon stated, "I don't know the language but I can tell the difference between when someone speaks another language out of learning from books and when they speak it as if they've spoken such before. Eddard knows it as if he may have learned such whilst in captiviy. If so he would most likely be able to be of great assistance to ..."

Lord Rickard Stark stated, "No he won't. He already knows more than he should for his level of a Lord, and, as I said, we need to limit and focus Eddard's power." 

Brandon shrugged, "Fair Enough." Perhaps I should just ask Eddard myself later, he thought.

Brandon asked immediately after, "That sigil on the seal is not House Karstark's. It's the Company of the Rose."

Lord Rickard Stark nodded, "Yes it is. They are coming home to the North.  Your brother Benjen's lands surrounding Achyldenloch will need lords to man the holdfasts and laborers to work the land. I'm pretty sure that Lord Eddard will also need such for further Sunset Coast development. In return, they're assisting us in stabilizing the North against the Boltons."

Brandon said, "Okay what were the other two Ravens?"

Lord Rickard Stark handed one with a seal shaped like a Lizardlion curled in a circle eating its tail to Brandon who began to read:

To Lord Rickard of House Stark of Winterfell, Lord Paramount and Warden of the North,

We have stopped most of the wagons bound for Winterfell which were being moved northwards by members of the sellsword company from Essos, the Spears of Damnation . They were posing as Wine Merchants from various parts of the south. We recognized them immediately as their wagons seamed to leave deeper tracks in the dirt of the roads than they should. This was due to the weight of sand and dirt which the casks of wine were packed in.

We were able to interrogate a few and found out this was not wine but wildfire. We are storing the wagons near the site of Moat Callin behind the initial slabs of the inner walls' foundation which sit at the height of a man. This should keep them hidden and if any do explode the fire will be contained. Worse comes to worse if such happens we have to wait until the fires die and we have the land at least cleared any errant vegetation inside the inner and outer walls.

Per the interrogation, one or two of their number had passed along earlier. One is known as Lazoquo Ostelion of Myr. He is apparently very Rhoynish looking so he may be posing as a Salty Dornish Wine Merchant. He is also a known associate of the Volantene Vidar Tarraenos so he may have some other reasons for being in Winterfell and aiding with its siege.

Lord Alaric of House Reed and Lord of Greywater Watch

P.S. We will be arriving at Winterfell on the morning of the 22nd day of the 10th moon. Tell Howland that his Jyanna will be with our party

Brandon looked to Lord Rickard Stark and said, "So the Boltons were planning on burning down Winterfell with Wildfire?"

Lord Rickard Stark stated, "According to Lord Howland Reed who had seen Royce Bolton planning the siege through his greensight."

Brandon noted, "Assuming that was how Ned...." Lord Rickard Stark looked oddly as Brandon used his familiar name, which he quickly corrected, "er, Lord Eddard found out where Royce Bolton and his army were. Would Lord Eddard know who this Lazoquo Ostelion of Myr or Vidar Tarraenos are?"

Lord Rickard Stark paused for a moment, "Possibly. If you feel the need ot ask him, do so. But avoid giving him any information in return. Remember what I said about limiting information to him and his power."   Brandon nodded.

Brandon stated, "What was the third raven regarding?"  Brandon looked at the seal which was bright crimson in its wax with the shape of a lion prancing facing left, the sigil of House Lannister of Casterly Rock.

Lord Rickard Stark stated, "Well this will illustrate the reason we will need to limit Eddard's power..."

To Lord Rickard of House Stark of Winterfell, Lord Paramount and Warden of the North,

It has come to my attention, based on reports my brother Gerion Lannister's wanderings up and down the Sunset Coast, that you are finally developing this coast. He described his journey around Sea Dragon's Point as if viewing a smaller but no less impressiive Northern version of Casterly Rock complete with a small harbor which seemed to be well-developed and growing. It is also noted that you have three other harbors being developed in the North, one at the mouth of a large river (I believe the name is the Rillstone) which has the potential to become a major trade port much like Lannisport is for the Westerlands.

I would like to begin working with House Stark on a trade alliance and possibly a further alliance which will further benefit both of our realms.

Lord Tywin Lannister, Lord of Casterly Rock and the Westerlands, Warden of the West

"Lord Eddard has most likely found out from Lord Rodrik Glover as he will most likely when he meets Lord Justan Flint and Lord Commander Orthanc Slate regarding possible mined goods including Iron on the Sunset Coast. Lord Justan Flint My 'little crows' have overheard Eddard talking of building roads as well connecting the harbors," stated Lord Rickard Stark. "If the Old Lion gets his claws into Lord Eddard of House Stark of Sea Dragon's Point..."

"Understood," said Brandon. "But for some reason, I don't see Lord Eddard falling for a Southron's manipulation father, even Lord Tywin Lannister's. The only person who can persuade him to do anything would be ... quite frankly Barbrey at this point from what I've seen tonight. However, we should probably let Eddard know if he receives any direct correspondence from any other kingdom to send it to Winterfell. He's bound by the Oath he just took tonight to do so."

Lord Rickard Stark nodded, "Very Well. Lord Eddard doesn't seem like the type who would be intimidated by Tywin Lannister either."  Lord Rickard Stark paused for a moment. "There's some administravia I need to take care of with Maester Walys. We'll talk tomorrow."  Brandon nodded as he stood and exited the room.

Brandon had initially thought that his brother needed to be put in his place for grasping at power which wasn't his but Brandon was slowly realizing that his brother Eddard was gaining popularity around the North given his abilities as well as his traditional Northern outlook and his interaction with the Northen Lords. The more he thought about this as he left his father's Solar, Brandon found himself disagreeing with his father on whether Eddard should be given the opportunity to aid House Stark as more than just an attack dog or a mere Lord from a branch house.

Brandon walked to Eddard's room and opened the door. His fists clenched when the light from the torches outside the door lit the room up further.  Barbrey was asleep in Eddard's arms; Brandon was tempted to act on this until he saw the massive bulk blocking the light from the hearth in the room. Two massive heads of a mated pair of direwolves uncurled looking towards him. He backed out of the room closing the door behind him and proceeded towards his own room to get some needed rest.

EDDARD V
Just After Dawn, 20th day, 10th Moon,  280 A.C.

Eddard Stark woke up in his bed to some knocking on the door as well as an annoyed half-asleep growls from Cregan and Lynara as well as some fussy nose-wrinkling from Barbrey. He got up, pulling on only his grey woolen britches and walked to the door opening it. 

Standing in front of him was a young Ethan Glover with the Winterfell guards standing next to him, all looking equally nervous. Eddard noted that Ethan was his brother’s squire and given the Winterfell guards at his door he knew they were being directed from high up in the household so it was either his father or his brother Brandon. “It’s a little early and it was a long day yesterday so might I inquire what the emergency is,  Ethan Glover?”

“Lord Brandon Stark, the Heir to the Lord of Winterfell and True Heir to the Kings of Winter, summons you to the tiltyard in the Southeast Ward immediately for sparring drills,” stated Ethan Glover

Eddard rubbed his face, growling low, “Is this a fucking jape?”  And what is with the titles? thought Eddard. Last time I checked we were Starks of the North, not some Southron ponces who need long titles to make ourselves feel important.

“No Lord Eddard , I was .... “

Eddard held his hand up. “You're just following the directions given to your by your assigned liege," said Eddard, "as any good squire would do. Any knight or lord should count themselves as blessed by the Old Gods and the New to have a squire as dedicated as you, Master Ethan."  Eddard was half-tempted to say, "If you want to squire for a real knight worthy of your dedication, i will call on my friend Denys Arryn to arrange one in the Eyrie with the Knights there, if you don't mind squiring for Andals."  But decided against it.

Ethan Glover felt a little bit relieved. Eddard then said, "Give me a moment. Let me at least get some clothes on." Eddard found a greyish white woolen tunic and pulled it over his head donning it. He then pulled on some thick socks and his leather boots quickly. He fastened a leather belt around the tunic as he bent over to give the somewhat half asleep Barbrey a kiss on her forehead.

"Gereigir haftoor mjök bliðr," said Barbrey half-awake somewhat sarcastically. "Don't have too much fun." I don't think I'll have any this morning, thought Eddard. Barbrey seemed to briefly wake up enough to realize she was still in just her sheer linen night shift and smallclothes, as she pulled the furs up so they completely covered her. "Ek ann þér," she said

As Eddard stopped for a moment stunned in response to Barbrey's half asleep declaration.  "Ek ann þér ok," he said qiuetly in a knee-jerk response, before he made his way to the door, stopping briefly as there was a rumble over by the hearth. Cregan yawned widely with a growl as he yawned widely, grunting slightly as he looked at Eddard.

"I suppose you wish to go where I'm going, Cregan?"

Cregan whimpered slightly to which Eddard responded, "Well come along then."

Cregan chuffed briefly as Lynara protested with a growl as he got up. There was some interaction between the two before Cregan and Lynara whimpered to each other and the large direwolf followed Eddard and Ethan out of the room and down the corridor to the northeast tower stairs.

Chapter Text

EDDARD VI
Morning, 20th day - Morning, 21st day, 10th Moon,  280 A.C.

Eddard felt exhausted still from the previous few days. The only thing keeping him going was perhaps turning in early tonight, maybe convincing Barbrey to do the same as he seemed to feel more comfortable sleeping next to her.  He walked out the back of the Glass Gardens then turned southeast heading towards the tiltyard, followed by Cregan who seemed to enjoy the cooler morning weather as the sun was still rising and Ethan Glover who seemed to be slowly waking up himself.

they reached the tiltyard and saw the normal group of a couple platoons of guards drilling nearby as Ser Rodrik Cassel and his sergeants were drilling the platoons in hand-to-hand combat drills for one platoon along with long shield and spear usage for creating a shield wall. Eddard stopped by to greet Ser Rodrik Cassel.

"Good Morrow, Lord Eddard," said Ser Rodrik. "I'd expected you to still be slumbering in your bed this morning."

"Aye, me as well," said Eddard. "But Master Ethan's liege thinks I am overdue for a sparring, he sent him to fetch me."

Ser Rodrik nodded, "Understood, my Lord. I see your Direwolf friend came to watch."

Cregan chuffed as Eddard laughed still waking up, "He's probably wanting to see me get knocked on my arse." Cregan chuffed briefly afterwards. Ethan Glover seemed to want to be urging Eddard over to the field where Eddard's elder brother was waiting. Brandon was waiting in the area along with some of the other younger lords. Standing around the field dressed in lighter leather armor meant for enough protection for sparring and sword practice.  Ser Donnel Locke was also present.  Brandon stepped forward as they arrived on the field.

"Lady Barbrey wear you out?" stated Brandon. Eddard gave him a sideways annoyed glance but decided against falling for the bait with an angered response. 

"Actually, the warging from the previous night did, brother" replied Eddard.  "I see we have three other Lords here ready for a spar, did you want me to be the judge for the sparring?"

Brandon walked over to the rack of tourney swords and picked up a hand-and-a-half tourney sword, before saying, "Thought maybe I'd spar once with you before we all try matching one another." Eddard nodded grabbing a bastard tourney sword himself.

Brandon stated, "Ser Donnel if you could be the director for...." 

The two brothers went to the field as Ser Donnel Locke stepped out to stand between them.

"You are both here for an honourable spar. I am here to ensure the sparring proceeds honorably.  There will be no backstabbing, you will not throw your blades, nor will you use weapons other than those agreed upon." stated Ser Donnel Locke, "If quarter should be asked, he who asks for quarter shall  release their grip on their blade and he who grants such shall lower their blade and retreat five paces. Is this understood?"

"Aye, Ser Donnel," said Brandon.

"Aye," nodded Eddard, as they both stepped away from each other and faced each other.  Eddard stood at a formal attentive stance then held his sword in front of his face, tapping the flat of the blade with his forehead. Ser Donnel seemed to recognize the gesture as a gesture of respect knights used when facing a worthy opponent. Not something seen in the North outside  of White Harbor and the surrounding territories.  Brandon followed suit with a similar gesture.

Brandon took the offensive and attacked. Eddard parried and blocked around five or six strikes from Brandon with his own sword before Brandon went back on the defensive. Brandon did seem slightly surprised that Eddard had blocked so many. He attempted the same set of moves against Eddard to be met with Eddard blocking them, but Eddard followed up after the last strike with a short jab at Brandon's swordarm with the flat of his own sword. 

Eddard's short jab struck Brandon on the wrist causing his hand to open, dropping the sword. Before Brandon could recover, Eddard had repositioned himself such that his blunted tourney sword's blade rested on the back of Brandon's neck.  "Dead," Eddard said, as he pulled his swing so that the blade just touched Brandon's neck. The movement seemed to be one done on instinct that Eddard was able to pull back at the last minute.

Eddard quickly apologized, "My apologies, Lord Brandon, I should have asked if you yielded. Best two of three?"

Brandon said, "Sounds good. You are faster than I expected. Either that or just lucky. We can go again" 

Eddard responded, "You are giving away your next move with each attack, brother." Eddard thought for a moment that Brandon would have taken the observation as advice and think through a strategy, but Eddard's statement Brandon most likely had taken as an affront to his own pride. 

The two brothers returned to their initial places in the 'ring'. Eddard saluted Brandon again only to have Brandon returned the gesture but it was evident that it was half-hearted. Brandon began attacking again and yet again Eddard blocked every attack. Eddard noticed that Brandon's attacks were becoming more intense. Brandon came at Eddard for the second pass, this time charging at Eddard using his larger mass and weight to push Eddard back. Eddard slipped on a piece of ice in the middle of the yard losing his footing. 

Instinctually, Eddard began bringing his own sword up in a defensive move to put the tip of the blade between him and his charging opponent when the opponent already had the momentum moving towards him. The move is meant to literally impale one's opponent. Stop Eddard, he told himself in the microseconds it took to judge his instincts. A tourney sword can still do damage. You are not a kinslayer. In mid-move, however, Eddard switched to a more predictable stance with his sword poised to block the inevitable downstrike from Brandon. He blocked the first swing and Brandon was able to bring down a swing on Eddard's right shoulder hitting it with an audible crack. The hit caused a slight wince from Eddard as he felt the impact. 

Ser Donnel Locke stated, "Hold! Step back, Lord Brandon!"  Eddard noted that his brother had not even pulled any of his strikes. Brandon walked back to his starting position as Eddard got up on his own.  Eddard being unarmored felt the result of being in such a state. However, Eddard had felt this sort of blow so many times during his fighting in the pits such that his skin flesh and bones had become an armor of sorts . Ser Donnel Locke walked to inspect Eddard's shoulder, "You took quite a hard blow, Lord Eddard and you are unarmored."

Eddard held up his hand as if to refuse as he worked the arm and shoulder out via some quick movements, "I'll be okay. I've had worse."

Brandon faced his brother, laughing almost taunting, "Guess you aren't really the fierce wolf in combat that they say you are, Ned." Eddard merely shrugged as Brandon looked at him for a moment.  Eddard thought back to his duel with Vardokan son of Vrakka.  Blinking through the blood running off his face an the stinging of the salt of his sweat in the open wound over his left eye being half blind. He shuddered for a moment as Cregan whimpered slightly in sympathy. Eddard remembered the shock he went into after he sliced Vardokan's head off in one swing and held it up to frighten off the rest of his opponents in the battle. But he and Vardokan had been the only two left standing. His fellow slaves cut down by blades or impaled by pikes, taking their opponents with them to the afterlife. He remembered the overwhelming stench of blood and entrails and the emptied bowels as rigor mortis began to set in.  The lightheadedness he had memories of as his own blood had left him from his wounds. Hearing the voice of Elbert Arryn in Common Tongue, a language he had not heard since the beginning of his captivity, echoing as if in a distant part of a far away castle even though he was right next to him. Eddard remembered he would not let go of the sword or Vardokan's now rotting head.  Eddard snapped back to the present.

"Brandon, pray for our sake and our children's sake that neither of us ever have to find out," said Eddard distantly. "That we never have to prove our abilities as warriors just to survive to the next day."

Brandon countered, "You're holding back aren't you."

"Well....yes..." started Eddard, "I am not wanting to be a... "

Saying that to Brandon seemed to have brought the worst out in him, as his face twisted in anger and he lunged at Eddard with his tourney sword. It was admittedly a lowly move on Brandon's part attacking an opponent who is unarmed.  Eddard's sword was still on the ground.

Ser Donnel Locke thought initially to jump in to halt Brandon but quickly saw Eddard was holding his own. As did the other Lords. Cregan himself didn't move and seemed to be watching the match almost with slight boredom.

Instinctively, Eddard dodged to his left, spinning away from Brandon's stabbing lunge quicker than Brandon had anticipated. Brandon continued forward stumbling slightly as Eddard was quickly behind him scooping up his tourney sword from the ground and now wielding it.  Brandon was enraged and charged at Eddard stabbing and slicing as Eddard seemed to dodge all of his swings and stabs, occasionally blocking one or two with his sword. The dance with Eddard, still expressionless as he dodged or blocked his brothers attacks, moving around quickly as Brandon kept attacking getting more and more enraged continued for quite a few minutes, until Eddard figured it was time to end it. 

Eddard dodged a high attack from Brandon simultaneously countering with a swing that hit Brandon on the opposite leg. The sound of the hit had been rather loud and Brandon slowed slightly as he limped backwards. If they had been duelling with actual castle forged steel swords, Brandon's armor would have been breached on his leg.  Brandon would have been rendered a cripple if Eddard was wielding Valyrian steel. Ser Donnel Locke moved forward to the ring so he could step in to stop the fight, but he was too late.

“I am not your enemy, brother,” said Eddard in a calm but pleading manner. “This is only a spar.”

Brandon apparently didn't take the hint and still attacked. Eddard dodged again but Brandon parried luckily and the two ended up with swords locked in a stalemate. Ser Donnel went pale at what happened next. 

Brandon seemed to look to his left towards where the Lords were standing.  Brandon said to Eddard, "I know am the better swordsman and you are merely a pit fighter. If I am also going to be your liege and you're so fucking traditional Northern, maybe I should claim fyrst nátt at your wedding to Lady Barbrey."

Eddard’s face twisted from his quiet predatory gaze to one of an enraged wolf. Brandon’s expression went from cruel amusement to abject fear as Eddard broke the stalemate and sent Brandon staggering back with a kick to his sternum knocking Brandon back a few yards. Eddard dropped his own sword behind him and charged at Brandon. Brandon still stunned attempted to defend himself via swinging his sword at Eddard.  Ser Donnel shouted, "Hold!" although that command of Ser Donnel's as a sparring director seemed to go unheeded. Eddard easily dodged it, disarming Brandon and in the same motion hit hard with a heavy swing to Brandon's midsection with Brandon's own sword. Ser Donnel Locke could tell by the sound of the hit that Brandon might be injured enough to need a maester to at least look at him afterwards.  Brandon doubled over gasping for breath and fell forward dropping his tourney sword. 

Brandon coughed a few times and regained his breath and attempted to get up slowly.  Ser Donnel Locke bent down, "Lord Brandon, just sit up slowly and rest there for a moment. Are you okay with breathing?"

Brandon nodded to the affirmative, "Just got the wind knocked out of me, Ser Donnel. Thank Old Gods and the New I decided to wear this bloody plate under the leather."  Lord Brandon motioned for Ser Donnel Locke to help him up.

Ser Donnel Locke indulged Brandon, "I still would recommend having the Maester look at your midsection and your leg." 

Brandon nodded, limping towards Eddard,  "Aye. brother I do owe you an apology, probably several, but you and I seriously need to have a talk with just the both of us."

Eddard looked at Brandon warily, "Why did you..."

Brandon said, "First of all my apologies for the remark on Lady Barbrey. I know she and I have a ... history together, but the last thing I will want to do is get between a wolf and his mate."  Eddard sensed sincerity actually in his voice. "I was only trying to provoke you to get a reaction. So I could see the real you on how you fight. If that was a real sword instead of a tourney, and I was just in regular light leather armor I have a feeling I would have my entrails spilling out and if it were say Valyrian steel I'd be in two pieces." 

Brandon looked over to Ethan Glover and pulled him aside. "Master Ethan, if you can take Ser Donnel Locke to the kitchens for some breakfast. Lord Eddard and I will be heading to the Maester's tower briefly. Then we will meet you in the Great Hall when the other Lords gather for the midday feast."  Ethan nodded and Ser Donnel Locke walked with Ethan Glover northwards back in the direction of the North ward and Glass Gardens. Eddard offered Brandon a shoulder to lean on, intentionally the opposite one of the one which was bruised by the earlier hit from Brandon.

They got to the entrance to the tower and Eddard stopped, looking at Brandon, "Hold on a moment. The corridors and stairs are too tight and cramped for Cregan to fit through."  Brandon nodded as Eddard looked at Cregan and said, "How about you go to the Godswood and have some fun with your brothers and sisters."  Cregan seemed to like that idea and chuffed in excitement before loping off in the direction of the Guest House presumably towards the nearest Godswood gate.

Eddard and Brandon both walked towards the Maester's Tower which was due west near the smaller east gatehouse to the Inner Castle. They entered and headed up the tower stairs until they got the to top.

After knocking on the door to the Maester's chambers, the door opened to Maester Walys standing there. Brandon immediately spoke, "We got a little rough in sparring and Ser Donnel Locke thought it might be a good idea for you to give me a look over."

Maester Walys nodded, "Come on in. Let's take a look at you."

After a quick examination after removing his armor, Brandon was found to have some bruising around the ribs and a bit of a bruise on his upper leg. Nothing serious but it would keep him out of the tiltyard for the next few days and Maester Walys recommended no riding of Midnight for at least a sennight, given his injured ribs and thus weakened core strength which may be needed to control a destrier like Midnight. Maester Walys thought it wise to give Eddard an examination on his shoulder. 

Whilst Maester Walys was examining Eddard, Brandon took a casual seat behind Maester Walys' desk and something caught his eye. Eddard looked over casually as he saw Brandon reading the parchment becoming slightly annoyed, judging by the look on his face.  Then sat back putting the papers down staring at Maester Walys and Eddard as if waiting for something.

"Based on the scarring you've gone through more abuse than lads normally your age, but there's something odd about your shoulders," said Maester Walys. "I'm just seeing bruising around where your collarbone is but for some reason, I'm not finding any breaks or fractures which normally would have happened with a blow from such a weapon."  Eddard knew the reason but would rather not have shared his speculation. He was still reeling from the effects of the long warging and was there were some physical manifestations which had been exhibited.  There are a set of bones which exist in humans but are absent in other animals notably carnivores,  notably the collarbones. Eddard noted this and came to the conclusion that if he warged into a direwolf or any wolf for that matter for as long as he did or longer, he may risk losing his humanity and literally become the wolf.

"I might have just toughened up after being hit so many times," stated Eddard.

Maester Walys sounded doubtful, "Perhaps. At any rate I would recommend visiting the hot springs when get the chance as that may do you some good in letting out the bad humors and in with the good. The heat will also aid in the healing process."  Maester Walys turned to Brandon, "I would recommend the same for you, Lord Brandon."

Brandon seemed to have a bitter sneer, "I would also recommend one thing, Maester Walys. Verify the original documents without any alteration sent to you by I believe his name is Maester Alyn and ignore my father's additions in them. I would rather you maintain your integrity and Oath to the Citadel. Given  I am a man grown, I am legally a Lord. And although I am not the Lord of Winterfell as of yet and only his heir, I can legally act in his stead.  I hereby authorize you as the Heir Apparent Lord Paramount of the North and Warden of the North to verify the original documentation for the agreements between the Lord of House Stark of Sea Dragon's Point and the Lord of House Glover of Deepwood Motte."

Eddard seemed slightly confused but he could smell fear on Maester Walys as Eddard stated, "Brandon, what is ... "

Brandon stated, "Brother, you and I need to some choice words with father. It's one thing to have an alliance with the Riverlands. It's another thing to begin giving away land in the North to those who have not earned it and would never show the inclination or ability to do so. "

Maester Walys looked at Brandon rather relieved as Brandon said, "Maester Walys, on my honor as a Stark, you will not be faulted for following my instructions. No Lord should be asking a member of his Council into a conflict of oaths. I will be informing my father that I had given the order."

Eddard looked to Brandon as he handed him the documents, reading them over. He recognized his father's hand immediately on the parts which were added in a different colored ink on the rough copy. Eddard's eyes narrowed feeling his wolf's blood begin to surface again. Brandon put his hand on Eddard's shoulder however.

"Perhaps we should talk as brothers, something I've missed doing for so many moons and something which is direly needed at this moment," said Brandon in commanding but sincere voice. 

Eddard nodded as Brandon acknowledged such. Brandon spoke again quietly with Maester Walys putting his own signature and seal on the original documentation as a legal authority the level of Lord Paramount, before leading Eddard out of the Maester's turret back towards the Great Keep.

BARBREY V
Morning through Night, 20th day, 10th Moon,  280 A.C.

Barbrey awoke later in the morning to a faceful of soft but slightly oily dark grey fur. She slowly sat up only to be licked on the side of the face by Lynara. "Góðan daginn, Lynara," she said as she sat up. Lynara whimpered softly and lay back down.

Around this time, Lyanna came into the room with an odd smile on her face and sat down next to her. "Well? Tell me all about last night with Eddard," said Lyanna. Lyanna seemed to be dressed in the gowns of a northern noblewoman made of a light grey woolen gown with a white bodice. It was definitely one of her more elegant gowns and entirely appropriate for their meeting with the Northern ladies later in the day.

"Nothing really happened. We kissed then fell asleep in each other's arms," said Barbrey  "We've both been exhausted from the past couple of days. I was hoping for perhaps some time with him this morning but Brandon sent his squire up here before dawn to summon Eddard to the tiltyard for sparring. Cregan went with him." Barbrey paused for a moment,  "What's going on with Brandon and Eddard?"

"Other than Brandon being a bit of an arse towards the both of you, what do you mean?" Lyanna seemed excited.

"Brandon sent his squire, Ethan Glover, up this morning to fetch Eddard for sparring," said Barbrey. "Not sure that would be a good idea for either of them to .... "

"Come back to my chambers and let's get you dressed," said Lyanna with a sense of urgency.  "I have a feeling their sparring may not have ended well."

Barbrey was in fact slightly worried as well. They both headed to Lyanna's room and Barbrey quickly changed into a similar outfit to Lyanna's, save for gown was very dark grey colored with a bronze colored bodice. Lynara followed along. 

As they reached the bottom of the stairs of the Northeast Tower, they heard some familiar voices echoing from the corridor which led to the kitchens. Once they arrived they were greeted by the sight of Brandon and Eddard eating their breakfast alone.

Brandon and Eddard were sitting across from one another at one of the tables eating a relatively hearty breakfast of bacon , eggs , some dried small herrings from the White Knife, as well as some oatcakes and loaves of black bread. They were drinking some mulled wine. Lyanna proceeded to sit down on Brandon's left as one of the kitchen staff brought her by a plate of the same breakfast. Barbrey sat down next to Eddard and was brought the same although she did help herself to a couple pieces of Eddard's bacon.

Barbrey was unaware that she had been staring at Brandon with not necessarily anger in her eyes but something else. Eddard looked at her, "If it makes you feel any better, I gave Brandon a few bruised ribs and a bruised muscle on the outer thigh so he'll be slightly lame for the next week."

Barbrey looked at Eddard, saying almost angrily, "You couldn't slice his loins open?"

Eddard shrugged, saying in a deadpan respond,  "Well the countermove I used at the time didn't lend itself to an upward slice into his loins. And it was only a tourney sword, no sharp cutting edges. Anyways if one is aiming for that sort of damage, it is efficient to use a pair of smaller axes or certain types of short swords to do such."

Barbrey looked at Eddard as if he missed the point, but was unable to respond to Eddard before his brother spoke up.

Brandon was listening and responded, "If I didn't have plate underneath my leather cuirass, I would not be walking around right now. And if that was Valyrian Steel instead of a tourney sword,  I'd be in two pieces on the ground." Brandon was put down the sausage he was about to eat and took a deep breath, "I suppose I should get this over with, as after all the four of us sitting here are family after all. And, from what Eddard and I have been discussing, we're going to all need to pull together as a pack. "

Brandon looked directly at Barbrey, "I want to apologize for what I put you through. I didn't know the full details of what I had put you through, until Eddard told me earlier this morning. I still admit I do have feelings for you, but I would rather you be happy as my goodsister than unhappy. If you cannot forgive me...."

Barbrey felt backed into a corner by this declaration and was skeptical, even if Brandon was in fact sincere. Her first instinct was wanting to slap Brandon across the face as hard as she could, but the more she thought the less that would accomplish. In a gesture which later generations would attribute to Barbrey Stark's quiet commanding presence especiailly over her children, she held up her hand in Brandon's mid-sentence, deliberately but slowly, interrupting him, "Brandon, what you did was left an open wound that will take a long time to heal. So please try to understand if I choose to maintain a healthy skepticism towards your attempts at atonement for what you did to my heart.  Why the sudden change, Brandon ?  "

Brandon looked at Eddard for support to which Eddard stated, "It's a legitimate question, Brandon."  Barbrey looked at Eddard briefly. Brandon was his brother, but he was not crossing Barbrey in owning up for what he did .

Barbrey added, "Lyanna told me some of the things you said about Eddard needing to be put in his place and quite frankly you seemed to .... "

Brandon put his hand up, "I will be honest. I didn't exactly have the best attitude towards either you or Eddard. I started to get an inkling however when Eddard left father's solar that all wasn't what it should be. Mainly, I may have been at odds with Eddard on opinions but I still recognize him as my brother. I'm not so sure father recognizes Eddard as his son." 

Eddard looked at Brandon slightly shocked in his expression as if this was news to him despite his interactions with his brother.

Barbrey noticed a change in Brandon's face. Despite the fact that she despised him for what he did to her, Barbrey still knew how he reacted to certain situations and could still read his face like a book.  Brandon looked deadly serious as he glanced towards Eddard, "Father said a few things which did not sit right with me after you left.  Notably when I asked about how you spoke High Valyrian like someone who learned such through speaking it rather than someone who learned it from a Maester, he quickly changed the subject and stated Eddard already knows more than he should for his level of a Lord and that Eddard's power needed to be limited and focused. "Why in the Old Gods' names would he make his own flesh and blood swear an Oath of Fealty if we're all from the same House? "

Eddard sat there in stunned realization as Barbrey listened.

Brandon stated, "I want the North to be the North. I want to rule the North with my two brothers by my side as my two trusted Wardens and more than that....as Starks. I may not be the sharpest sword in the scabbard, but I will not attain this goal with the current direction our father is steering the North.  I won't have a realm to rule as the Lords of the North will despise me and any progress towards at least economic prosperity will be hamstrung by attention to Southron alliances." Brandon looked to Eddard,  "We also will not stand against our enemies if we are a pack divided, which father is doing by isolating Eddard and Benjen as merely High Lords separate from House Stark."

Brandon looked at Barbrey, "You asked for my reason for my change in attitude, Lady Barbrey. I gave it."

Barbrey nodded. What Brandon said made sense logically, and she did have to admit occasionally Brandon was capable of doing his thinking above the belt. Perhaps her ex-lover being around her current love and betrothed with them working together closely as brothers may be a good thing for the future Lord Paramount of the North. However, this did not mean she was ready to forgive Brandon just yet. The wounds were just too recent and too deep. She could however remain civil.  "Understood. Keep in mind that this is a start and I may not...."

Brandon then said honestly, " I would request that at least you recognize me as your goodbrother and family, and to extend the same welcome towards Lady Catelyn that i had heard you extended to your other future goodsister, Lady Dacey Mormont.  My betrothed is in no way at fault for my indiscretions towards you. Lady Catelyn will be a Stark once we're married, just as you will be once you and Eddard are wed."

Barbrey reluctantly nodded silently, "Being a sister to my goodsisters goes without saying.  All of our children will be close cousins growing up together and ... part of the pack as well."  She looked at Eddard briefly during this last phrase. "However, it's going to take some time, Brandon, before I can hold a conversation with you without remembering the hurt you caused me."  She sighed as she leaned forward, "But if you're willing to put forth the effort, I'm willing to meet you halfway. If not for our family here in this room, for all our childrens' sake."

Brandon nodded, "Aye, I thank you for the chance, Lady Barbrey." 

The four of them continued to eat their breakfast as Brandon and Eddard discussed their plans for the North. Barbrey felt she had to put her two coppers in on a lot of issues related to the future of her territory, especially regarding her essentially being the Wardeness of the Sunset Coast.  She had knowledge of the resources of House Ryswell's neighboring terrritories and their resources and strengths. For lumber needs for shipbuilding in Rillstone Harbor and any agreements with Lord Justan Flint of Flint's Finger.  Barbrey suggested using House Whitehill as a source, unless is was Ironwood specifically which House Glover and their vassal houses are the only sources, she suggested perhaps Rillstone also use House Whitehill as a primary source due proximity and transport costs, in exchange for assistance with the road from Grey Harbor to the other side of Barrowton on the length that passes through their territory.

Since House Whitehill is a vassal of House Ryswell that would further and House Glover would not complain as they still gain profit from less transportation costs. Eddard noted that House Glover will still maintain some lumber interests mainly for their monopoly on Ironwood but also since the needs of Rillstone Harbor will be so great that neither House Glover and their vassals, nor House Whitehill and House Tallhart for that matter will be able to keep up with the demand alone for both Rillstone Harbor and the Harbor at Flint's Finger. Eddard also suggested that he will bring up possibly using some of the trees being cleared from the area around Moat Caillin as well if they have any value as lumber, noting that he does know the Crannogmen build their swamp boats out of some hardwooded trees found in the neck so there was that ironwood alternative if necessary.

Eddard and Barbrey seemed to be of differing opinions on the distribution until Brandon stated that perhaps they should leave such up to discussion once House Ryswell, Whitehill and Flint of Flint's Finger arrive so all the Houses can get together on agreement. Eddard agreed, further noting he will need Lord Rodrik Glover and Ser Wendel Manderly present as the primary Lords of the Sunset Coast under him.

After it was almost the noon hour, Eddard departed for his meeting with Lord Rodrik Glover and House Glover to finalize their alliance agreement. Brandon went to go sit in on the initial talks between Jeor Mormont and his father for Benjen and Dacey's betrothal, which he scheduled conveniently at the same time as Eddard's meeting with House Glover. Brandon apparently had scored some points with the old bear in insisting his father merely stick to the bride price and betrothal agreements between houses. Any clauses regarding Achyldenloch can be negotiated by Benjen and his Lord Regent separately. 

Barbrey and Lyanna during this time had ended up being pulled into a traditional 'Gardener' tea in the Guest Lady's Solar where House Manderly was settled in the Great Keep.  It was not necessarily a Southron tradition per se but more of a regional tradition with descendants of families who were offshoots of the Gardeners of the Reach. Not exactly the most comfortable of get-togethers but Barbrey found that, of the half of the ladies of the North who were in attendance, most seemed to be oddly hanging on her every word as well as Dacey's. Barbrey had asked Lyanna about this afterwards. Lyanna's response was basically once because Barbrey and Eddard, as well as when Dacey and Benjen are married, they will be the defacto matriarchs of the Northern Starks. Lady Catelyn may become a Stark through marriage and be Lady Paramount, but her Southron roots will be difficult to overcome.

"Dacey is essentially like the skjaldmær from the Age of Heroes with her Bear Island upbringing, but can look as elegant as even any Southron lady, even at this young age," said Lyanna. "You yourself are the spitting image of the last Queen of the Rills before the Kings of Winter united the North. Both Eddard and Benjen are bonded to the living sigils of House Stark.  You, yourself, have a similar bonded companion with Lynara.  If any two future ladies of House Stark were the symbol of the ideal Northern lady as the traditional North views such, it is you. You will also be the ones who shape the future of the North with your sons and daughters."  

As the afternoon wore on she eventually met back up with her direwolf Lynara in the Godswood and began heading back to the Great Keep as the sun began to set. She decided to head up to Eddard's room and found Cregan there next to the Hearth. Lynara found it a welcome site again.  Barbrey had an idea of perhaps removing her gown and getting under the furs to 'surprise' Eddard on his return, but heard some yelling from down the hall as she finished removing her boots. Barbrey walked outside the room and heard the yelling coming the Lord's Solar where the door was open.

Brandon was speaking as she entered within earshot of the conversation, "Father. Walder Frey is no idiot. In three or four years once Moat Caillin is finished and trade with the North is going primarily through Rillstone Harbor along the Sunset Coast, land traffic from the Sunset Coast areas of the Westerlands, the Reach, and even the Riverlands will all but cease to be crossing the Twins, save for small traders.  The extortionate tolls Walder Frey will not be viewed as a necessary expense weighed against a long journey all the way around Westeros, past the perils of pirates who linger around the Stepstones, to White Harbor."

Barbrey continued to listen intently standing in the doorway as Brandon stated, "And if you ask me, my goodfather should not be in any way opposed to the North's development as Seagard's revenues will only increase in the same proportion as Rillstone Harbor's growth."

Lord Rickard Stark looked at Brandon, "So your recommendation for handling the Freys regarding the House Blackmyre issue is to just pay them the value of the land?"

Brandon was in the middle of speaking, "No. Pay the Lord Paramount, Hoster Tully,  the value of the Land. The situation with House Charlton is not unlike House Glover and it's former vassal House Whitehill a couple of years ago where a vassal house chose to align itself with a new vassal house. This was due to tensions between House Whitehill and House Forrester.  Lord Gared Glover and Lord Rodrick Ryswell were able to reach an agreement quite swiftly without incident. House Charlton legally is dissatisfied with it's current liege and wishes for House Blackmyre to be its liege. There is really no difference in my opinion to resolving the issue in a similar manner other than the border between two allied kingdoms being altered due to House Charlton being of the North now. Lord Hoster Tully gets the value for the Land and he can work out whatever compensation Lord Walder Frey figures he needs outside of us."

"Brandon, I think you forget why we entered the alliance in the ... " began Lord Rickard Stark

"Have Brandon then assist his Goodfather in the negotiations. If negotiations with Walder Frey become difficult, then have Brandon bring his brother Eddard, along with a few of our pack of direwolves as added motivation for Walder Frey to comply. This will help Lord Hoster Tully get the point across to Walder to fall in line," blurted Barbrey from the doorway.  She knew that was exactly what Brandon was going to say and knew somewhat that her betrothed would suggest given his previous reference to the Reynes and Tarbecks.

Lord Rickard Stark looked at Barbrey then at Eddard, "I assume your betrothed does know it is not a Lady's place to interrupt conversation amongst Lords."

Eddard almost began to speak before Brandon put his hand on his shoulder. Brandon then looked at Barbrey sighing, "Given the long history I've had with my brother's betrothed, I can say she does have some insight into my train of thought. Given she had observed out entire discussion, Lady Barbrey has stated what we both were thinking. However, not in the most appropriate of ways regarding normal expected etiquette expected by a Lord of your generation. I would recommend her stated approach, also reminding the Old Weasel that we are aware of his peripheral involvement with House Bolton."

Lord Rickard Stark seemed placated by such looking at Brandon in an almost imperceptibly proud manner, as Barbrey took her place at Eddard's side in the room. Brandon then stated, "There is one other thing I would like to discuss. Who the hell is Lazoquo Ostelion of Myr?"

Eddard's eyes grew wide as he looked at Lord Rickard Stark then at his brother, "He's the leader of the Spears of Damnation," said Eddard "A sellsword company who tend to do a lot of dirty work for Vidar Tarraenos. They'll hire out often but always server two masters, their primary hidden master always being Vidar Tarraenos."

"How do you know this?"

"Something Lord Jon Arryn decided not to tell you," said Eddard. Eddard told Barbrey later on that Lord Jon Arryn wanted to severely underplay the extent of Essosi involvement in the slaver operation in the Vale due ot the embarrassment of having such occur. "They showed up in the Vale immediately after my escape to ... clean up any loose ends. They were initially hired by some of the Houses in the Sisters to intercept any of the pirates who may be fleeing with slaver ships.  If they are hired for a job they always seem to serve two masters with two separate agendas. The Spears of Damnation delivering wildfire to House Bolton to burn down Winterfell is a secondary objective most likely. We need to know what he's after initially, or more accurately what Vidar Tarraenos has sent Lazoquo Ostelion of Myr to do along with the Boltons."

Brandon stated, "And Lord Alaric Reed's raven said he's on his way here? What's his objective?"

Eddard said, "The Spears of Damnation are not assassins, at least not very efficient ones. Lazoquo Ostelion of Myr if I remember correctly was originally a thief. Only thing I can think of value that we have is Ice, and frankly I don't see someone from behind the Black Wall in Volantis sending one of their minions all the way to Westeros for a Valyrian Steel sword, given their proximity to the ruins of Old Valyria."

Lord Rickard Stark shifted somewhat in his seat, "You said you knew the source of a good part of our fortune, Eddard. At bók ór sagar með "Sopp" var eigi luggirr."  Barbrey translated in here head but Lord Rickard Stark's statement in Old Tongue made no sense to her, The book of tales by the "Mushroom" were not lies.

Eddard nodded as if the cryptic statement meant something to him. "I see and I figured as much"  Eddard paused for a moment,  "I'll need to think on this, Father, Brother. I would request no action be taken towards Lazoquo Ostelion of Myr. I will deal with him."

Lord Rickard Stark looked like he reluctantly agreed as Brandon looked at Barbrey then Eddard for a moment, "Right now I think your betrothed and your direwolves may require your presence more than father and I , Ned."  When Brandon had stated such, Barbrey noticed she seemed to be clinging to Eddard more than she thought she was.

Eddard looked at Barbrey then nodded to his father, "If there's nothing else then?"  Lord Rickard Stark waved a dismissal as he and Brandon seemed to continue to talk as they left.  They continued down the hall to Eddard's room. Having been up since dawn,

Eddard seemed exhausted after a long day and said something about remembering Maester Walys' recommendations. He removed his belt and boots and grabbed what looked like some-thong style sandals which would have been more at home in Dorne onto his feet.  Barbrey looked curious as to what Eddard was up to. He grabbed a heavy woolen shirt as well as some trousers and new smallclothes along with what appeared to be a

"May I inquire where you're off to now?" asked Barbrey.

"Maester Walys recommended taking the hot springs for my shoulder healing as well as ... " said Eddard before stopping as Barbrey began untying her bodice as if to remove her gown. "What are you doing?"

"Coming with you," said Barbrey, raising her eyebrow slightly, "Lyanna kept telling me all about those I figured I'd take the opportunity to enjoy them as well." She removed the bodice and set it aside on the bed before pulling off her gown, revealing she merely had a shift along with her smallclothes underneath. She noted, "I may actually need a cloak for this."  Eddard grabbed his heavier white snowbear-fur lined one with the cast-steel direwolf clasp.  Barbrey felt him put the cloak on her as she felt it's weight and warmth.

Cregan and Lynara seemed to stir from their nap as Eddard stated, "Care to join us, you two?"  They looked at each other curiously with some apprehension. Lynara let out a slight whimper as Eddard grabbed a couple of well-worn large linen blankets, fraying at the ends they were no longer used for bedding during the summer months and were used mainly to dry off after outings to the hot springs

Barbrey stated, "It's in the Godswood." She immediately saw Lynara rise and Cregan do the same immediately after. Barbrey and Eddard then walked out out of the room and down the spiralling stairs of the Northeast tower and out the rear of the Great Keep through one of the larger doors near the Glass Gardens and into the North ward of WInterfell. 

The Godswood itself encompassed perhaps one of the largest wards in Winterfell. The small forest itself had only really covered about ninety percent of the Godswood ward. The remaining area was taken by mostly the clearing around the Heart Tree and the small clearing near the wall of the Guest House for the Hot Springs. The hot springs themselves were shielded from the elements by a shelter constructed of the same stone from which Winterfell's walls were hewn. Barbrey noticed that the stone shelter offered some privacy as well. 

Barbrey and Eddard entered the Godswood with their direwolves and quickly were on their own as Cregan and Lynara caught sight of the other direwolves, loping quickly over to where theu were gathered with a few quick howls. They continued towards the hot springs.They entered the hot springs shelter as Eddard hung the blankets over a wooden rail next to one of the pools and removed his tunic hanging such as well. He removed the sandals and his woolen britches as well as his smallclothes before easing himself into one of the pools Barbrey noticed the relaxed look on Eddard's face as he relaxed on the edge of the pool , the warm mineral laden waters seeming to have a healing effect on him.  Eddard rested his head on the raised granite ledge of the pool he was and seemed to be watching Barbrey.

Barbrey removed the snowbear fur cloak, folding it over the opposite rail. She noticed the relative warmth of the area in the shelter due to the hotsprings themselves, due to the fact she only was shivering slightly as she removed her shift and smallclothes.  Barbrey noticing Eddard was watching, attempted to walk over to the pool gracefully giving him a relatively seductive glance. Her face changed immediately to one of surprise as she slipped into the pool quickly and immediately felt the temperature difference.

"Going the cold air into the very warm pool will definitely get your attention," said Eddard, laughing slightly.

Barbrey, not one to be defeated, steeled herself for a few seconds before she swam over to Eddard, embracing him. "Gerekr hafþinnr augár mik, minn Konungr ór Wetr?"  she said playfully in Old Tongue, asking if she had her King of Winter's attention as well.

Eddard smiled before he kissed her. Barbrey felt at ease with Eddard enough to get even closer to him and let both of their instincts take over. Barbrey was initially hesitant on going further on her instincts with Eddard, but she thought to herself that this was different than when she was with Brandon years ago. She was meant to be with him and he with her. Barbrey let instinct take over, as they spent what seemed like hours in a heated lover's embrace in the pools. Her memory of the night seemed blurred afterwards, although she did remember merely carrying her shift and small clothes as Eddard's tunic protected her modesty underneath the cloak, en route back to his his room in the Great Keep and Eddard saying Ek ann þér before both of them fell asleep.

In the morning, Barbrey awoke near sunrise to find Cregan and Lynara still sleeping. She saw Eddard up and already dressed with Howland Reed standing next to him.

Howland said, "Barbrey is awake. You may wish to inform her before we leave. I'm unsure how long this will take."

Eddard looked at Barbrey, sitting down next to her on the bed, "Howland and I are going to the Heart Tree in the Godswood. I may miss the arrival of a few the remaining Houses this morning. I should be around however afterwards for the arrival of House Ryswell and House Whitehill, so we should be able to greet your family together."  Barbrey smiled as she pulled the furs she was under closer around her unadorned body, for modesty and warmth.  Eddard kissed Barbrey on the forehead briefly.  Barbrey opened her eyes and pouted slightly before Eddard gave her a proper kiss for a few minutes before he left with Howland Reed.

Barbrey said, "Ek ann þér."

Eddard responded smiling, "I love you too"  Eddard then left the room with Howland. She heard Howland Reed talking about a woman named Jyanna and his fondness for her as their voices faded as they became more distant down the hall. Barbrey fell back asleep.

Lyanna entered the room in the morning with a ceramic mug of some steaming beverage. "Figured you might want to drink this after last night." Barbrey nodded sitting up in the bed pulling the furs up to cover her exposed bosom. Lyanna smirked, "Like I haven't seen those before?"

Barbrey chuckled at the jape before suddently thinking of the night before with her betrothd. She said, "Eddard ... he is ... "  Barbrey was speechless as she drank a gulp of the Moon Tea.

Lyanna sniled, "I think he's quite taken with you as well, although he looks truly looked like a direwolf hunting prey after he left the ceremony this morning with Lord Howland Reed for some odd reason."   Lyanna paused, "You missed a lot this morning."

Barbrey leaned back on the headboard, "Do tell, dear goodsister," she replied curiously.

"Well, Lord Rodrik Glover and Lord Jeor Mormont got in a scuffle last night which ended with lord Rodrik Glover telling Lord  Jeor Mormont he's stealing his sister like a Wildling and taking her and her daughters to Sea Dragon's Point. I think Lord Jeor's reponse was 'Well, it's about fucking time.'"  said Lyanna, doing her best impression of  the Old Bear's deep voice.

Barbrey had a good laugh, "Well a few more familiar faces then at my new home, as I will have my future goodsister Dacey at Sea Dragon's Point."

Lyanna looked slightly nervous as she stated, "That is not all who will be at Sea Dragon's Point.  Brandon...."  She paused for a moment before saying, "I suppose he is taking care of his own much like my own betrothed is taking care of his bastard daughter , Mya Stone, and her mother.  Brandon asked Eddard and Lord Rodrik Glover to take Bronwyn in along with her daughter Ros. Eddard reluctantly agreed only after Lord Rodrik Glover nodded that they were in need of staff for the castle and that Maege was familiar with her."

Barbrey thought for a moment, "I will not blame the child or the mother for the actions of the father. Ros has Stark blood in her even if she is a bastard. She is still part of the pac and her mother was in the same situation as myself, only without the privilege of nobility,"

Lyanna nodded, "Other than that pretty much the rest of the houses from the North except for those from the Neck and House Bolton, Karstark, Whitehill, and yours, House Ryswell, have arrived.  And this arrived addressed to you as part of several ravens sent from the Dreadfort yesterday morning."  Lyanna handed Barbrey the raven, it was sealed with the seal of House Bolton but the script on the outside was from her sister Bethany's hand.

Barbrey opened the raven and read it:

Barbrey,

I am writing this to let you know that I am okay. I am recovering well from injuries delivered upon myself by my goodfather, Rogar Bolton. The only change I feel is I will be much quieter than I have been in the past. 

From our conversations, it seems he was just as much of a prisoner of Rogar Bolton as I have been. My Lord Husband, Roose, however has finally rebelled and has taken over House Bolton and the Dreadfort, after executing his uncle Elmar and have met with the Company of the Rose in a Parley. Roose has sent a formal declaration in a raven along with a witness declaration from Captain Barthogan from the Company of the Rose to Winterfell. This declaration is Roose claiming lordship over House Bolton, essentially usurping such from his father, and declaring his fealty to the Lord of House Stark as his Paramount.

I am relieved to be finally freed from Roose's Father, and Roose has comforted me during this time. I find I am pleased in being the Lady of the Dreadfort as opposed to being its hostage.

I am however concerned for you, given the rumors which are just trickling up here regarding your betrothed, Eddard. Word has spread to the Company of the Rose forces that Royce Bolton's army was defeated by an army of direwolves. Additionally, Word has also spread amongst the smallfolk coming from Winterfell that Eddard Stark may be the Heir to the Warg King come again. Please send a raven back, letting me know if you are okay.

Your Sister,
Lady Bethany of House Bolton and the Dreadfort.

Barbrey began to have tears running down her face, "Lyanna, I need a quill and parchment."

Lyanna looked to Barbrey curiously, "Is everything okay?"

Barbrey stated, "Lord Roose Bolton has declared himself Lord of House Bolton and has usurp his father's position. Bethany is alive and well." Barbrey seemed to be relieved with tears of joy hoping this raven was not a ruse. It was certainly Bethany's hand which held the quill.

Chapter Text

BRANDON IVa
After Sunset, 20th day, 10th Moon,  280 A.C.

It had been a long day but working together with his brothers. Brandon was able to keep any addressing of any Southron alliance issues out of purely Northern negotiations for the day.  He noted that he had been lucky regarding Benjen insisting to his father that anything regarding the governance of Achyldenloch be kept out of his betrothal agreement with House Mormont for Lady Dacey's hand. Brandon however when approached by Lord Gared Glover and his brother Lord Eddard put his signature and seal on the original documents for the agreement as he was acting as Lord Paramount whilst his father was meeting with Jeor Mormont.  Lord Rickard Stark was not happy however as the clauses he had slipped in would allow him some flexibility in enticing Houses in the Riverlands to accept his position on issues regarding their alliance.

"You had no right, Brandon, to question...." shouted Lord Rickard Stark.

"Ignoring the fact what you attempted was illegal not to mention unethical, I have every right, Father. Who will be running the North after you are gone? Who will have to ultimately bear the consequences of your mistakes? You cannot have it both ways father. Either Eddard is your son and second heir or Eddard is the Lord of Sea Dragon's Point," said Brandon. "Given you insisting on his Oath of Fealty last night, I would say the latter. That also legally prevents you from offering any of his territory or resources to anyone inside or outside of the North, or did you not know that ?"  Brandon knew he was right on the legal aspect although he was taking a guess based on Eddard's reaction earlier.

Eddard seemed to be slightly angry still. "If I am to be supplying any holdfasts on my territory to anyone, it will be because they earned it."

"Additionally, neither Ned nor Lord Rodrik Glover nor Maester Alyn had any knowledge  the additions you put in there. And Maester Walys was looking rather nervous, so my guess is you've put him in a precarious position between his oaths as a Maester to the Citadel and his oaths as a Maester to the Lord of the Castle," added Brandon. "What does Lord Hoster Tully have to say about this? He's Walder Frey's Liege Lord."

Lord Rickard Stark looked at Brandon with surprise and anger. Eddard remained somewhat silent. Barbrey knew it was best Brandon do the arguing given his current position as heir. "This is for the good of the North, Brandon."

"Is it?" replied Brandon "I would rather wait until House Bolton is dealt with. Once the fate of House Bolton gets out, House Frey will fall into line rather quickly. He fucking did it quickly with the Lannisters once they started singing that gods-awful dirge after the Tarbecks and the Reynes ceased to exist."  Brandon paused for a moment, realizing he was showing his own anger, "I wouldn't offer them anything without the active approval and oversight of my future goodfather, Lord Hoster Tully, who is Lord Walder Frey's liege lord last I checked. " 

Lord Rickard Stark scoffed, "Brandon, do you seriously think that..."

"If you doubt me then consider this, House Frey stopped pressing House Lannister with their leeching off of them, through Tytos Lannister's daughter Genna, once Lord Tywin ensured the Reynes and Tarbecks met their end. What do you think will be House Frey's reaction once word of what happened to the Bolton's army reaches South of the Neck? With Theon Snow and the Karstark convoy seeing what happened, word will already begin to spread due to their delay in cleanup and you know it will be the subject of discussion during the Welcoming Feast on the day of their arrival."

Lord Rickard Stark relucantly admitted, "The idea of some form of land offer was actually suggested by Lord Hoster Tully."

Eddard shifted his weight. Brandon was afraid his inner direwolf would begin to show again, but Eddard kept his cool as he said, "Ah, Lord Hoster Tully, the Lord Paramount who loses nothing, even if the offer damages the North economically. We cannot afford to have someone like Aegon Frey having a holdfast on lands on the Sunset Coast. He brings nothing of value to the lands, no skilled labor therefore producing nothing for my territories. This means I will have to support Aegon Frey and his entire household. This will be a drain on my funding for necessities such as roads and the further development of the harbors. At any rate, our stonemasons and skilled quarrymen I have told Lord Rodrik Glover I want to hold in reserve for Moat Caillin, not building a fucking castle for a Frey to live in whilst he freeloads off of me."

Brandon sighed, "Eddard is correct father. In addition, Aegon Frey has no loyalty to anyone but his father and grandfather. Last thing we need is essentially a foreign-owned holdfast on lands we're trying to develop, least of all someone loyal to a foreigner opposed to the development." Brandon took a deep breath, looking his father dirctly in the eye, "Father. Walder Frey is no idiot. In three or four years once Moat Caillin is finished and trade with the North is going primarily through Rillstone Harbor along the Sunset Coast, land traffic from the Sunset Coast areas of the Westerlands, the Reach, and even the Riverlands will all but cease to be crossing the Twins, save for small traders. The extortionate tolls Walder Frey will not be viewed as a necessary expense weighed against a long journey all the way around Westeros, past the perils of pirates who linger around the Stepstones, to White Harbor. And if you ask me, my goodfather should not be in any way opposed to the North's development as Seagard's revenues will only increase in the same proportion as Rillstone Harbor's growth."

Lord Rickard Stark responded by saying, "So your recommendation for handling the Freys regarding the House Blackmyre issue is to just pay them the value of the land?"

"No. Pay the Lord Paramount, Hoster Tully, the value of the Land. With House Charlton, the situation is not unlike House Glover and it's former vassal House Whitehill a couple of years ago where a vassal house chose to align itself with a new vassal house, due to tensions between House Whitehill and House Forrester. Lord Gared Glover and Lord Rodrick Ryswell were able to reach an agreement quite swiftly without incident. House Charlton legally is dissatisfied with it's current liege and wishes for House Blackmyre to be its liege. There is really no difference in my opinion to resolving the issue in a similar manner other than the border between two allied kingdoms being altered due to House Charlton being of the North now. Lord Hoster Tully gets the value for the Land and he can work out whatever compensation Lord Walder Frey figures he needs outside of us."

"Brandon, I think you forget why we entered the alliance in the ... " began his father as he looked to the doorway noticing Barbrey standing there, evidently awaiting Eddard.

"Have Brandon then assist his Goodfather in the negotiations. If negotiations with Walder Frey become difficult, then have Brandon bring his brother Eddard, along with a few of our pack of direwolves as added motivation for Walder Frey to comply. This will help Lord Hoster Tully get the point across to Walder to fall in line," blurted Barbrey from the doorway. She knew that was exactly what Brandon was going to say and knew somewhat that her betrothed would suggest given his previous reference to the Reynes and Tarbecks.

Lord Rickard Stark looked at Barbrey then at Eddard, "I assume your betrothed does know it is not a Lady's place to interrupt conversation amongst Lords."

Eddard almost began to speak before Brandon put his hand on his shoulder. Brandon then looked at Barbrey sighing, "Given the long history I've had with my brother's betrothed, I can say she does have some insight into my train of thought. Given she had observed our discussion, Lady Barbrey has stated what both were thinking. However, not in the most appropriate of ways regarding normal expected etiquette expected by a Lord Paramount. I would also remind Lord Walder Frey that we are aware of his peripheral involvement with House Bolton."

The discussion then moved to the subject of Lazoquo Ostelion of Myr. With the mention of an Archon from Volantis and his brother Eddard's history, he thought it best to follow along with his brother's request to leave this matter to him. Soon after Eddard and Barbrey left, some maids came in for the normal tidying duties of within the Great Keep working their way from room to room.

Lord Rickard Stark looked at Brandon, "Now that this is just the two of us, what are you up to?"

Brandon looked at his father, "I may not agree with Benjen and Eddard, but they are both my brothers."  He stated as his father opened his mouth to protest, "Yes, even Eddard." Brandon paused for a moment, "At your age, when I am Lord Paramount of the North I plan on ruling the North with with Four powerful wardens on my side, Lord Rickard Karstark, Lord Wylis Manderly, Lord Benjn Stark of Achyldenloch and Lord Eddard Stark of Sea Dragon's Point.  I wish to be give my own sons a North they can rule as Northmen alongside the sons of my Wardens, be they Lords whose loyalty is either by blood or by oaths is over a millenia old."

"But what about Lady Catelyn. That .... " started Lord Rickard Stark.

"When I put the cloak on her and we say the vows, she will need to realize that she will be a Stark," stated Brandon coldly.  "However, Father, the North is not a communal well the Riverlands' and every other fucking Andal South of the Neck can draw from anytime they please.  Lord Hoster Tully must be made to understand this. If he cannot muster the fortitude to bring a vassal Lord like Walder Frey in line and is calling upon us to do so, this does not mean we will be the ones prying House Frey with bribes. It means my future goodfather is calling upon us to assist him in enforcing his Paramountcy. The Crown long since stopped doing so once they placed them there to replace House Hoare almost three centuries ago, so I'm guesisng he is needing some assistance."

Lord Rickard Stark looked at Brandon with astonishment, "Which is why we need alliances..."

"Not at the expense of the betterment of the North, Father," stated Brandon. "We've bled too many times for those South of the Neck with nothing to show for it. Great-grandfather Willam saw the futility of this as did his brother Artos. So that being said, what is going on father?"

"You are right son," said Lord Rickard Stark. "However, while Moat Caillin is unfinished and the plans for the Sunset Coast and Achyldenloch are still being implemented, we are vulnerable and we can't let the Crown suspect anything."

"Father, I'm seriously doubting the Crown is in the position to complain about us improving the North, especially since we're not asking them for any funds to do it,"  said Brandon, as his father donned a grave look. Brandon noticed this, "There's something you're not telling me, Father."

Both father and son were silent for a beat. "Where did House Stark's fortune originate?"

Silence. Rickard and Brandon both seemed to wait until the maids all left until Brandon eventually said, "I took a look at our books with the Iron Bank. We have the equivalent of almost twelve million gold dragons there.  We take loans every three years and pay them back on time for no reason other than to pretend we're not that wealthy.  Now I know where around four million of that came from.  Artos found this hidden in a secret room at Deep Lake along the Wall. Where did the other eight come from?"

Rickard kept looking over at the very young maid who seemed to be feigning dusting the shelves on the other end of the room. Brandon noticed such as well immediately and played it off nonchalantly, walking over to the liquor cabinet, about a few yards from the maid who remained. "Perhaps a drink father?"  Rickard nodded to his son.

Brandon walked over to the liquor cabinet and took our a bottle of an old vintage Dornish Strongwine and pouring some into a couple of copper goblets. Brandon then said, "Perhaps we should tell King Aerys how the North really feels about his delusions of grandeur." Brandon noticed his father Rickard look almost fearful as the maid seemed to finish her work and made her way towards the door.

Brandon however grabbed the maid quickly by the throat and lifted her in the air. "One of the 'little birds' of the eunuch you told me about working for the Crown?" said Brandon looking over at his father. Rickard nodded to the affirmative. Brandon squeezed the throat of the spying maid tighter until he heard and felt the neck itself snap.

"They will know something is going on by the lack of information being passed back now," said Lord Rickard Stark

Brandon grumbled, "They do not know details."

"She will have a replacement however," stated Lord Rickard Stark. "Then there is the issue of a maid dying of a broken neck in my Solar."

"I have a few guards extremely loyal to me personally here father," stated Brandon. "We'll bury her in the Lichyard. I can get Maester Walys to record the cause of death as her choking on her own vomit after drinking too much of her Lord's liquor."

"Aye, and if she was truly one of the eunuch's little birds, she has no attachments, so there's fewer loose ends for us to tie up," admitted Lord Rickard Stark.  Brandon grabbed one of the old blankets lying on the settee of the Solar setting it aside before pouring some of the Dornish wine from the bottle on the now dead little bird. Lord Rickard rang the bell which summoned the guards. Three guards entered both of whom Brandon recognized instantly as 'his' men. Brandon instructed two of them to head to the lichyard to bury the body quickly in the next free plot, and the other to fetch Eldric Poole and Maester Walys to the Solar.

All very Northern lads, the guards went to their task without question as they had done for Brandon for the past few years. These guards were part of what seemed to be a trend that had been observed amongst the Northern smallfolk of a growing sense of 'Northern Pride' and disdain for anything from South of the Neck. His younger brother Eddard's re-emergence along with his outwards appearance resembling the old Kings of Winter as well as his being a powerful Warg only served to encourage this attitude amongst the smallfolk of the North. These guards were all of that ilk, and thus very unlikely to be corrupted by anyone aligned against House Stark let alone outside of the North.

As the guards departed with the dead spying maid's corpse wrapped in the old blanket to do their assigned tasks, Brandon sat back down in front of his father, "Okay now back to what I will need to know as your heir, where did the other eight million gold dragons of our fortune come from?"

"I think Eddard suspects and has put most of the pieces together already. I confirmed it to him earlier," said Lord Rickard Stark

"At bók ór sagar með "Sopp" var eigi luggirr," said Brandon. "''The book of tales from the 'Mushroom' were not lies.' Please enlighten me as that is rather cryptic."

Lord Rickard Stark chuckled, "It is a good thing Ser Denys Arryn will be arriving here in a fortnight so you will take advantage of our library, at least more than just retrieving the knowledge you need at the moment you step into that tower. I was referencing  The Testimony of Mushroom, a rather rare book of which House Stark has but one of the three existing copies which were kept despite King Baelor Targaryen, first of his name's orders. Another copy is in the library of the Eyrie owned by House Arryn,  I'm suspecting of the other two copies, at least one is at the Citadel in Oldtown. King Baelor and the Maesters did not exactly see eye to eye. "

Lord Rickard Stark stated, "This was essentially an unedited account of the court during the Dance of the Dragons. It doesn't exactly portray either side of the conflict in a good light. One particular passage which is relevant to House Stark and Winterfell was in regards to Jacaerys Velaryon and his dragon Vermax..."

Brandon stated, "I remember hearing actually about that. Rumor was the dragon laid a clutch of eggs in our crypts."

Lord Rickard Stark corrected, "Actually that is not exactly true but it was very close to the truth. There was another document written by your namesake, Lord Brandon Stark, who became Lord of Winterfell after his brother Barthogan had been killed during the Skagosi Rebellion. Vermax had laid a clutch in a cave near the source of heat which heats the water in our hot springs and which keeps our walls warm. Brandon and his men found them whilst surveying the cave and retrieved them sealing them in an anteroom in the crypts. The anteroom went undiscovered until your grandfather Edwyle's time."

Brandon sat on the edge of his seat as his father leaned forward.

"I suppose I should tell you the rest...." began Rickard.

RICKARD IV
Morning, 31st day, 8th Moon,  267 A.C.

Older Rickard Stark remembered it as if it were yesterday. This was the last time he had seen the Wolfmother as well.  A younger Lord Rickard Stark had arrived in Braavos the night before along with his entourage, including his cousin Medger Stark, Son of Benjen Stark , Grandson of  Artos 'the Implacable' Stark.  They were waiting on the docks just outside the huge fortress-like building. He received the raven only a week after his dear Lyarra was laid to rest in the crypts of Winterfell upon receiving a raven from Medger Stark to head to Braavos immediately.

"I know you're in mourning but only you can do what is needed when they arrive. They can't be sailing around with that much gold. That's just asking for trouble. Better off in the Iron Bank."

Rickard nodded, "I know. I'm still trying to adjust to being a widower."

"Heard it was the Wolfmother who will be delivering the gold herself now that she's taken over her father Jonnel's commanding position in the Company," said the elder Medger Stark. "I'd say it would be an understatement to say this will be an awkward meeting between the both of you, but who knows. It may cheer you up."

Rickard Stark was still in mourning. having lost his wife of almost eight years to fever after she had given birth to his third son Benjen. The woman Medger was referring to he had last been with a year after his marriage to his now dearly departed Lyarra Stark, youngest daughter of Rodrik 'the Wandering Wolf' Stark and Arya Flint. The Wolfmother was Lord Rickard Stark's first love before he met Lyrarra. The Wolfmother was also known as Arya Snow, a direct descendant of Brandon Snow, half-brother of Torrhen Stark, who founded the Company of the Rose. It was rumored Arya 'the Wolfmother' Snow had birthed a bastard from their affair, but he never had heard anything from it.

Arya Snow was named the Wolfmother due to her innate warging abilities. She was constantly seen with her two red wolves from the forests of Qohor, whom she named Gep and Pak, both clipped forms of the words for Left and Right in High Valyrian .  Arya Snow earned her nickname due to her raising Gep and Pak from mere pups not even weened. 

Rickard and Arya first met almost a decade previously when his father had brought him with to Lorath to meet with the Company. Arya was definitely of Stark blood in her looks with her long face and ice grey eyes, but she had bright red kissed-by-fire hair. Arya was known for her wild streak however. She was rumored to be unmatched in her skill with her Norvosi Falcata. There was speculation at the time on who seduced who but Rickard was inclined to agree that he was more enchanted by her wild beauty and Arya Snow developed some feelings for her as well. He had last seen her in White Harbor shortly before he ventured back to Winterfell to marry Lyarra around early 260AC.

Medger and Rickard stood at the docks accompanied by Galileo Nestoris, one of the higher ranking representatives of the Iron Bank whose customer interaction is limited to overseeing very large deposits and withdrawals of their top customers. House Stark already having well over four million gold dragons resting in their assigned vaults was just such a customer. With House Stark's investment in the Ironbank about to triple in mere moments, they would be very well taken care of by the Iron Bank.

Rickard turned to Medger, "I don't think either of us will be rekindling the flame anytime soon, Medger. We both went our separate ways."

Medger grunted, "Don't be so sure."

Over the few hours, they watched as four large war galleys were moored at the docks. The banker Galileo motioned for his assistants to fetch the deliverymen, a specialized group of laborers who worked as heavy labor for the bank who all belonged to the same guild. This guild provided all the skilled and unskilled labor for the bank for anywhere from new construction and building maintenance, including maintaining the locks on the vaults, to mere janitorial duties. The guild had no name but members were bound to oaths that essentially bound them to protecting the Iron Bank, its customers, and its interests with their lives. One could be sure that the deliverymen would not be say sneaking a coin or two from the large deposit they would be moving as they would sooner slit their own throats.

As the deliverymen approached with several empty wagons all pulled by a pair of large workhorses, The larger more solidly built deliveymen moved away from the wagons and approached the first docked ship. Rickard watched as the half the very large deliverymen boarded the first ship each with long thick poles in their hands. They returned carrying our several large heavy crates using the long thick wooden poles. The crates had metal hooks along each side to fit over the poles so as to ensure their ease of carrying. Given however the crates were filled to the brim with gold, Rickard was impressed with the raw brute strength of these deliverymen.  The deliverymen did not disembark the ship alone as they would be followed by four men-at-arms from the Company of the Rose, who were on board the galley to guard the cargo. Galileo and his assistants would mark each crate with a  few symbols and a number with brush which had a very thick bluish-purple paint before they were loaded on the wagon.  

They began unloading the second ship as the captain and crew disembarked the first ship. The captain and his first mate approached letting Rickard Stark know that the Wolfmother was aboard the second ship and will meet with them once she has disembarked.  Once the second ship was unloaded, Rickard could see Arya 'the Wolfmother' Snow descending the gangplank dressed in in light leather armor the color of bleached sand with bluish linen cloak, the color of winter roses, with a bronze clasp shaped like the head of a wolf.  She was followed by her two Red Qohor Forest Wolf companions, both rather large for wolves although not near the size of their direwolf cousins. Rickard could see a small boy of perhaps five or six namedays with hair kissed-by-fire just like Arya's, walking next to her wolves.

Rickard approached and was greeted with a cold greeting, "Lord Rickard Stark, I have returned from Ib, the last stop on our journey. The items your father and Artos Stark found in the crypts have been sold....well...most of them. Of the twenty seven found, all but eight. We had to go as far as Mossovy and Yi-Ti to sell the rest."

"Hmmm, so far?" Rickard asked.

Arya seemed to warm slightly, "You seriously need to ask that question, Rickard?"

Rickard nodded. Last thing they needed was for the Targaryens to have dragons again. Things were progressing quite nicely with the North and, now that they had the funding to fully develop the Sunset Coast and retake the New Gift to be their breadbasket and rebuild Moat Caillin to it's original full strength before the Andal Invasion, the North could have a little more leeway with the other six kingdoms as well as the Crown in dictating terms. Rickard was not brazen enough to go for independence of the North. Forging alliances with the other kingdoms would be the primary goal.

Rickard said, "Of course. Do you have them?"

Arya waived three of the men accompanying her over, carrying a crate containing three ornately carved chests. Rickard opened one of them. Inside were three hard oval stones which had a smooth but textured surface. One was colored black as dragonglass with scarlet red flecks dotting the surface in a marbled pattern. One was dark green like jade from Yi-Ti with bronze flecks on it's surface. The last in that particular chest was cream colored with gold and bronze flecks.  Rickard closed it then locked it.   He looked at the other two chests, noting they had contained similar objects with different coloration. The smaller of the two remaining chests only had two stones in it.

Arya looked at Rickard, "So what shall we do with these?"

Rickard looked at Arya as he pulled out the second chest of three he inspected, "I'll take this to Winterfell and hide it in our crypts. The rest will be locked in our vault with the rest of our gold, only accessible by myself and my direct heirs."

Arya noted, "I'd actually recommend throwing the lot down some ice crevice in the Mountains of the lands of Eternal Winter somewhere to be forgotten and never found again. But that's just me."

Rickard nodded, "Having those available may allow us to give some incentive for future generations of the Crown to finally fulfill the pact of ..."

Arya scoffed, "You're no longer a wolf Rickard. You've been around those Southrons so long you're a tamed fucking hunting dog instead. Let's hope one of your sons turns out to be something more in line with the true heirs to the Kings of Winter."

Rickard seemed angered by this accusation, "Who the hell are you to ... ?"

"We have our sources," stated Arya. "You're already talking with that Andal in the Vale about fostering four nameday old Eddard once he turns eight. And it's known that he's been steering you in the direction of betrothing your eldest to someone South of the Neck instead of a Northern bride. For the North's sake, it better be a Blackwood or a Royce. And, whilst I am sorry to hear of Lyarra's passing, you should think about remarrying for the sake of the North. Branda's sister was a good woman, one of the finest examples of a Northen lady we could have. We...."

"Then marry me?"

"I cannot," replied Arya. "I lead the company now that Jonnel got himself killed in Mereen. Besides even if I could, you'd be better off marrying someone from one of the Northern Houses to keep your realm together."

"Then I won't marry anyone."

"Rickard," said Arya somewhat sympathetically. "You need to remember to put the North first above all else. If you must make alliances with the Southrons, do so, but remember that good of the North should come before them in everything." She paused for a moment, seemingly wanting to end the reunion, "The Company will contact you once you have your development sufficiently underway. We want to come home and you'll need the people to move forward and resettle the New Gift at least in order to work the land."

Rickard nodded, before looking at the young boy looking on. "Who's the boy?"

"Our son, Theon," said Arya. "Don't dwell on it, Rickard. " she said tersely as she walked away with her wolves.  Lord Rickard Stark was speechless as the war galleys continued to be emptied. Theon must have been conceived upon their last meeting just after his father's death. This would put his birth between Brandon's and Eddard's, the obvious result of his infidelity to Lyarra.

Medger Stark was able to shake him out of his dazed state before they made the final arrangements with Galileo Nestoris and his underlings for storage vaults for the gold and the two chests with dragon eggs. Galileo Nestoris, like most Braavosi, had no love of anyone of Valyrian descent, particularly those from any line which were Dragonlords. Rickard noticed a smirk of approval as Galileo made a remark about the Torrhen's descendants keeping the one thing from the Targaryens which allowed them to be like their slaving ancestors. 

Medger Stark said, "I think she still cares for you. She doesn't care for what you've become and doubts your dedication to the North."  Medger Stark stated, "For the sake of the North, I suggest you prove her wrong. What will you do with those three dragon eggs?"

Rickard Stark said, "Well, I will put them in the sarcophagus of the man who is responsible the current line still having the Crown."

Rickard remembers being silent for the rest of the visit to the Iron Bank, save for interactions with Galileo Nestoris and the other bankers. Upon his return to Winterfell, he opened the Sarcophagus of Cregan Stark and placed the chest in it the the available space at the foot of the coffin.

BRANDON IVb
After Sunset, 20th day - Sunset, 21st day, 10th Moon,  280 A.C.


Brandon scratched his head, "Okay. Nice to know I have another brother. Can't wait to meet this Theon Snow." That being said, it's your burden for having cheated on mother with Arya Snow. I will however let Eddard know as soon as I seen him next that we have three dragon eggs in a chest hidden in Cregan Stark's Tomb."  Brandon paused for a while, "Based on what you've told me, Arya Snow was right. You do need to focus on the North primarily. You haven't been."

Lord Rickard Stark retorted, "I have. I have made alliances and have close relationships with  the other Lord Paramount which ... "

Brandon noted, "That's good father. However, there is the matter of actually, shall we say, internal governance and. for lack of a better term, the rational self-interests of the realm of the North. Our realm."  Brandon sighed, "I may not be the sharpest sword in the scabbard but I'd paid attention to at least some of the history of the other realms. If you attempt to maintain good relations with Houses outside of your realm by being the nice guy, they will think you a pushover. This happened with Tytos Lannister. He had fucking Walder Frey trying to pull a fast one on him with wedding his eldest daughter to ... who was Emmon  Frey , a second son, to a non-Paramount lord of a house whose only source of income for generations seems to have been taxing people travelling the Riverroad between the intersection of the Riverroad and Kingsroad just south of the Neck and Seagard.  This signalled to his own bannermen that he was a pushover. It took the bloody event the Rains of Castamere which ended House Reyne and House Tarbeck for House Lannister to gain respect back as the House of the Lord Paramount of the Westerlands."

Lord Rickard Stark looked at Brandon incredulous, "I will not massacre an entire ... "

Brandon looked at Lord Rickard Stark, "You won't have to.  Eddard already slaughtered most of the entire Bolton army not still at the Dreadfort for castle defense. We received word from Theon Snow yesterday regarding the Karstark convoy seeing the aftermath. Word will already begin to have spread via the smallfolk they encounter on their way down. I would not be surprised if we don't start hearing the bards singing about it in the Smoking Log Inn before the Gathering of the Lords is concluded. It's only a matter of time word of this spreads south of the Neck."

Brandon's father looked partially proud and partially surprised at Brandon's thoughtful analysis of the situation, "So what do you suggest I do?"

"Eddard and I have agreed that we will rule the North as brother with myself as the Paramount. Eddard's going to talk to Benjen in the morning and bring him up to speed on our plan," stated Brandon. "You will have your sons, the three Stark brothers controlling three quarters of the land area of the North with our cousins in House Karstark and our loyal friends with House Manderly controlling the other quarter.  House Karstark is loyal through blood and has been consistent with such. House Manderly has held its oaths to our house for well over a millenia. Their loyalty will be even greater once Ser Wendel becomes a vassal Lord to Eddard."

Brandon paused, "Frankly, Ned hinted at it when we were arguing in here yesterday. The repercussions of him becoming Lord Paramount with a United North behind him is not something your allies will be able to stomach. Luckily, he doesn't want it either."

Rickard raised his eyebrows, "Oh?"

"Think of what must happen for Ned to get into the position where he is effectively the Lord Paramount of the North"

Rickard exhaled in an accepting manner, stating the obvious, "Both you and I will have passed on to meet the Old Gods prematurely."

"And woe unto those who had caused such," stated Brandon, He admitted, "The only thing that I can think at this point which would incur Ned's wrath even more would be any harm or threat of harm to Barbrey. I learned that pretty much the hard way in the sparring yard, merely japing about claiming first night to raise his hackles and put him off guard. In a real battle, he would have killed me in less than a minute."

Rickard nodded,  "Very well. Denys Arryn will arrive in a fortnight to assist you with areas of study where you're lacking in dealing with the Southrons. You have an instinct at least for politics and at least are not the typical warlord I thought you might have been.  Since you and your brothers seem to know the North, I will give you more duties and responsibilities in overseeing the governance of the North. I give you the authority to handle the Bolton issue as a Lord Paramount would and the authority to command your brothers to aid you in the means you see fit, although I will reserve the right to be the one to pass the sentence."

Brandon stated, "Agreed father." Brandon stood up, feeling the pain from his injury earlier. He gulped down his cup of Dornish strongwine rather quickly.

Rickard leaned back, "I suppose it was wise of you to wear plate under your leather armor."

Brandon nodded, "All I have to say on that is I am glad I would be facing any battles with Eddard by my side rather than an opponent across the battlefield."

Rickard said, "Aye." 

Brandon turned to leave the room. He stopped by his room grabbing an old blanket, and headed down the stairs and out through the Glass Gardens to the Godswood. Taking Maester Walys' advice might be a good thing, he thought as he walked towards the hot springs.

As Brandon entered the Godswood and travelled through the trees, he saw large shapes running rapidly around in the moonlight filtered through the branches. They seemed to barely acknowledge him as he saw a direwolf with dark grey fur with light grey underbelly run by chasing a darker grey one, almost stampeding Brandon over but merely changing direction at the last minute to go around him.  As he caught his breath,  the larger greyish-white direwolf he had seen with Eddard standing in front of him as he turned back to head in the direction he was headed originally.

"Uh, hello," said Brandon

The direwolf put his massive forepaw on Brandon's shoulder before snorting briefly and loping quietly away back back into the Godswood. Brandon still marvelled at the size of the direwolves, but got the impression that was a friendly greeting from the direwolf, possibly telling him to relax.

Brandon then entered the area around the hotsprings. He was not prepared for the sight of a naked Barbrey riding his younger brother Eddard. Brandon stopped then slowly backed out of the shelter as quietly as he could heading back to the Great Keep.  

Brandon initially thought, Good for you Eddard. And Barbrey's finally moved on so that may make things easier on me. By the time he got to his room however his mind took a darker turn realizing now that he just saw the woman he still had feelings for (even though he was too stubborn and prideful to admit it), was making love to another man. What stung the most was the other man was brother. As usual with situations like this, Brandon decided that a good night of drinking and whoring might make him forget any problems he had with the situation. He got dressed back more appropriate garb including some leather armor and donned his sword belt with his castle forged hand-and-half-sword and dagger for protection and headed back down the stairs and out the South Gate.

~~

Brandon made a beeline for the brothel next to the Smoking Log Inn, He entered the establishment, greeting the madam, a rather hefty busty woman whose went by the name of Madam Grinmilla.

"So haven't had you around our establishment for quite a while, Lord Brandon," said Grinmilla. "We've been quite busy lately with all the Lords of the North, so most of our ladies are occupied at the moment. Unless you prefer boys then there are a few available."

Brandon shook his head, "No. I prefer women, Madam Grinmilla."

Grinmilla replied saucily winking, "Well perhaps maybe I could service you?"

"Afraid you're too much woman for me," said Brandon. "Whomever is available is fine. All your ladies are quite fine." Brandon added after he felt the twinge of pain from his ribcage, "And I'd like a hot bath as well if possible."

Grinmilla smiled, "Well can't fault a woman for trying?  I'll have a couple of the boys bring up a tub to the room along with some boiling water from the springs and get the room prepared for ye'."   Brandon walked by the small bar and was served an ale by the bartender, a rather burly man who easily was as large as the Smalljon. Brandon seemed to remember him also serving as protection for the whores as well as dealing with non-paying and unruly customers. The bartended gave him a rather large mug of ale, as Brandon handed him the proper amount of coppers for such, the bartender held up his hand as if to stop him.  He grabbed fifteen silver stags off of his dresser and put them in his pocket before rushing out the door.

Brandon stated, "I was only trying to..."

"My village used to be near Castle Condon and Lord Cley was our Lord until those abominations from the Dreadfort came," said the bartender. "Heard rumors that that twisted fucker Royce Bolton's army just got fucking kill'd by hundreds of them direwolves by the House Stark and its Warg Lord. The least I could do for you and your brothers giving me and mine some justice."  Brandon silently nodded in shock, Word has spread on that quicker than I thought.  House Bolton is due to arrive the day after tomorrow during the afternoon or night. I'll have to let father know.

"I accept this hospitality then with all the intent as has been given.," stated Brandon sincerely to the bartender who smiled and went back to his duties. When Brandon finished the ale he was guided upstairs by one of the boy whores who helped to prepare the bath. Brandon entered the room and immediately undresses putting his swordbelt, britches, doublet, the plate worn under his doublet, and his tunic on the bed in the room. Putting his boots beside such and dropping his smallclothes next to the tub.  Brandon grabbed one of the bags he usually carried his monies in. It seemed slightly on the heavy side for some reason for containing the four wooden banker's coin cases holding 1600 silver stags. The other bag in his room held about five similar boxes with two thousand gold dragons total, which he was planning on giving using whilst at Harrenhal to get a good set of plate built by the armorer from the Gates of the Moon he'd heard about from his future goodbrother Robert Baratheon.

His midsection had an ugly purple bruise running in a line across it where Eddard struck him with his own tourney sword earlier in the day. The boy-whores left a pot of some mineral salts as well. I always admired Grinmilla's attention to details, he thought. Probably why she's been in business for so long here.   Brandon dumped the pot into the tub and gradually eased himself in feeling his muscles relax. He felt himself drift off to sleep briefly until she saw a flash of bright red curly hair out of the corner of his eye.

He turned over and his eyes opened. He saw a small girl child with a mass of curly bright kissed-by-fire hair. She had a curious slightly long face with greyish 'wolf' eyes with a hint of blue, much like his brother Benjen's. The little girl looked to Brandon like Lyanna did before Eddard left for his fostering save for the hair color. He saw the little girl speak, "Móðir, maðrrinn er eigi hvílað!" said the little girl in old tongue indicating that Brandon was not asleep anymore to her mother.

A woman entered quickly, dressed in merely a white linen robe. It was evident where the little girl inherited her luxurious fiery curls. The woman was athletically built and somewhat more curvy and buxom, possibly as the result of her own motherhood. Her pale skin turned three shades lighter as she recognized Brandon. Brandon recognized her as well. It was Bronwyn. 

"M'Lord, I apologize. Ros never...."

Brandon put his hand up, "Leave your robe on and collect your daughter. Wait for me in the room from whence you came with your daughter, whilst I make myself decent."

Bronwyn said, "Please m'Lord, do not...."

"Do not what?" said Brandon. "I already paid for you for the night."  His face grew gentler, "I mean you and you daughter no harm. Ek mæli ek sjálfr til Gamallinn Goðarr."  He swore himself to the Old Gods on this. Bronwyn nodded taking the little girl in her arms. "I suggest you get dressed as well as your child and bring an appetite. I'm a feeling a little hungry for some food. I'm hoping Old 'Nuncle Nairn' is still the cook next door. I'm in the mood for his auroch stew."

Bronwyn cracked a smile barely and nodded, "He is, m'Lord. And I think that is the usually the special on the even days of the moon."  She shuffled her little one out of the room as Brandon got dressed.  He took a look in his moneybag, about the size of a good saddlebag, and just realized he picked up the wrong one, feeling the extra wooden case inside. He opened one and verified, 8 cylindirical rows of 50 gold dragons a piece. He quickly closed the case and stuffed it back in the bag, looping the strap which held such over his shoulder.

He walked to the next room where Bronwyn and her daughter Ros were dressed and ready. Bronwyn being smallfolk wore a simple brownish-grey woolen dress with a simple elk's fur cloak.  Ros seemed to be dressed in a similarly constructed child's tunic. Both were wearing boots constructed from elkskin with elk fur lining them.

Brandon looked at Bronwyn and commanded, "I know you and Lady Maege Mormont are close as are your daughter Ros and Maege's daughter Alysanne. They are most likely in the Inn at this moment from what I've heard. Seek Maege out and I will meet you there momentarily." Brandon walked down the stairs with Bronwyn and her daughter motioning for them to continue ahead as he approached Madam Grinmilla.  Bronwyn and Ros walked outside.

Madam Grinmilla stated, "I have a feeling you're about to tell me something, Lord Brandon Stark."

"Yes," said Brandon, in a manner more quiet than usual with some tinge of regret to his voice, "I will be taking care of a past mistake of mine. How much to ... "

At that moment, Madam Grinmilla seemed to wave over the large bartender from earlier, "How much do you have?"

"Probably enough to buy this establishment," said Brandon "But I have no need of doing that."

Brandon looked over at the bartender who was inching closer, as Madam Grinmilla stated, "I meant how much you got on ye' ?" 

"You may wish to reconsider your position in threatening me. I have no problem sending anyone to meet the Old Gods if threatened. Now how about we talk reasonably as I've seen your books and the taxes you pay Winterfell. I also know how much you're not reporting and how much coin is brought into the till by each whore on average. How much have you made the past three nights?"

Madam Grinmilla  faltered slightly, "A little over thirty thousand silver stags, but we've done very well due to the Gathering. Normally it's not so great, especially during winter when no one travels much through here. Which is why I can't ..."

"Then what was your average per day per whore?" Brandon replied.

"Slightly less," replied Madam Grinmilla. She seemed to be intentionally being evasive. The bartender did not look eager to be in the position he was in and spoke up. Evidently he knew the books enough as well, having to be the one to enforce payment for services rendered.

 "About a hundred silver stags, maybe two if they were in demand. " Madam Grinmilla shot the bartender a relatively angry look. Brandon had deduced that the demand for Bronwyn may have been higher than even that, hence her resistance.

Brandon nodded, "Very well. Since we frown on slavery here, since at least the era of my namesake who was nicknamed 'Ice Eyes', I know that the law still holds that if someone wished to hire someone away from their place of employment six moons profit would be an appropriate compensation, correct?"

Madam Grinmilla nodded, "Correct. I get the impression you're wanting to buy Bronwyn out along with her daughter, Lord Brandon Stark. She's a significant investment for me. Her daughter I can tell will be...."

The bartender looked at Madam Grinmilla as he noticed Brandon's eyes narrow. He put his hand on Madam Grinmilla's shoulder. Brandon took a deep breath, "Assuming she earns twice what any of the high demand whores earn here that would be 72,000 silver stags over a six moon period, correct?"

Madam Grinmilla shrugged, "Well that would be a fair price for Bronwyn. As for future investments with ... "

The bartender squeezed Madam Grinmilla's shoulder gently. She looked at him as he shook his head. He then whispered something in her ear and Madam Grinmilla's face went pale, then straightened up, "Ahem.... That would be a fair price for Bronwyn's release along with her daughter."

Brandon nodded and pulled one of the banker's boxes from his bag, opening it up. Both the Madam and the bartender's eyes went wide in disbelief. He scooped up one of the rows of gold dragons in the box and put it in his pocket. He put the box itself still open on the table and said, "72,000 silver stars is about 342 Gold Dragons and some change.  Here's 350, the extra 8 for services rendered tonight and compensation for any misunderstanding." 

Madam Grinmilla nodded nervously towards Brandon, "Thank you, m'Lord."

"I will send my squire back to pick up her possessions on the morrow," said Brandon. He nodded to the bartender who regarded Brandon respectfully as Brandon left the brothel.  He walked out into the alleyway. He walked across the small alleyway connecting the brothel's building with the Smoking Log Inn and entered through a side door. He had oddly remained sober the whole time within the inn, having to mediate between Lord Rodrik Glover and Lord Jeor Mormont on the subject of Maege Mormont then offering to officiate at a quick impromptu wedding in the Godswood for Maege and Lord Rodrik. 

Brandon was able to work out two options for Bronwyn and Ros. The first suggested by Maege that Bronwyn would come to Sea Dragon's Point as a maid on the staff. Lord Rodrik would talk with the Steward for placement within the castle for duties. Brandon agreed it would give her a home and good for Ros to be raised around her own blood, but this was dependent on Eddard and Barbrey's agreement to such. Benjen along with Lord Tormund of House Flint of the Mountains offered to take her into the staff of Castle Achyldenloch. Either way his natural daughter Ros would have a good home and would be well taken care of. He held off on any written agreements until he spoke with Eddard.

The next morning the welcoming ceremonies for several Lords from the Southwestern Region of the North began and Brandon was in his element performing the Guest Rights ceremonies as well as taking the Oaths of Fealty. Lord Rickard thought this would be a good time for Brandon to learn as well as send a signal to the North that Brandon was given the authority within the North to act as the Lord Paramount in his father's absence.

Brandon broached the subject of Bronywyn and Ros with Eddard, who was glad for Brandon's taking responsibility  as his foster brother Robert had with his own natural daughter. He was worried however regarding how Barbrey may take it. Brandon had asked for Eddard to let him know so he can draw up the agreements with the appropriate Castellan.

Eddard seemed somewhat preoccupied with his discussions with Howland Reed and rushed off immediately after the Lords began being settled into their accommodations, leaving Brandon standing next to their younger brother Benjen.

"I'd like to get together with you and Ned to discuss with Father how we're going to handle House Bolton when they arrive," said Brandon. "Any idea where Ned and Lord Howland were headed? "

"Dunno," replied Benjen. "They seemed to be saying something about Greensight. I'm getting vibes from Eddard however that we may have a gathering of direwolves inside Winterfell again very soon."

BETHANY I
Afternoon, 22nd day, 10th Moon,  280 A.C.

Bethany Bolton was seated in her husband's solar seated at the settee as Maester Vorian enterred the room . Roose was busy going over agreements in hosting the Company of the Rose as well as preparing for further word from Winterfell once his father arrives. The old Maester spoke, "We received a raven from Winterfell."

"So soon?" stated Roose, somewhat curious.

Maester Vorian shook his head, "Nothing from Lord Rickard as it does not have the Lord Paramounts' seal on it nor is it from House Stark."  Maester Vorian handed the sealed raven to Bethany with the seal of House Ryswell on it. It wasn't her father's and she noticed the little imperfection near the horse's ears on the sigil. This was Barbrey's seal that she had used for years. Bethany tore the raven open and began to read:

Bethany,

It is good to hear you are well. I hope Roose Bolton is as well also. 

So much has happened in the past few days of my arrival at Winterfell, but I am doing well.  I found out the true meaning behind the pendants mother handed down to us, having seen our matrilineal ancestor in a greendream with the aid of a powerful greenseer and friend of my betrothed. We are the descendants of the last Queen of the Rills.  Additionally, the rumors you have heard regarding my betrothed are true. Eddard is indeed a very powerful Warg. I stood vigil over him whilst he was in the warging trance which he had orchestrated the ambush of House Bolton's forces in the command of Royce Bolton, so the rumors are true as far as that incident.

I think that I have become somewhat bonded to a female direwolf whom I've named Lynara, due Io the whims of the Old Gods and partly due to my closeness to Eddard.  I'm still getting used to having her in my mind and being drawn into hers, but I think it may come in handy in future when my children through Eddard begin to bond with her pups from her litters.  I write this as I'm finishing a cup of Moon Tea which Lyanna brought me this morning. I think Lyanna heard us last night and she hinted that Brandon may have seen us in the hot springs. I think both of us are hoping to just get married rather than be betrothed but Eddard was planning for such after he returns from the Vale. Eddard explained to me that given his gifts of the Old Gods, his knighthood in the Vale means a lot to the Vale as well as on a personal level with his foster brother, Lord Denys Arryn. Lord Denys Arryn should be arriving from what I hear in less than a fortnight to assist Brandon in a few matters of regarding his preparation to be Lord Rickard's heir.

Speaking of Brandon, he did apologize and had made an attempt at reconciliation with me. I did tell him it will take time after what I went through with him, but he seems to be sincere about this. I found out he has a bastard conceived about the same time as I had fallen with child by him. It hurt finding out about the child, but with Brandon turning over a new leaf he has bought his mother's employment from the brothel in which she was forced to work. He does genuinely care for his natural daughter and she is after all Stark blood and will be the a natural cousin to our children. We cannot fault the children for the mistakes of their parents.  Her mother and her will be placed in either Achyldenloch or Sea Dragon's Point. Eddard seems reluctant to agree, but if I know him he may be deferring to my wishes. Sea Dragon's Point may be a better place for them given the relationship the child's mother's amicable relationship to the Castellan's new wife.

Lord Roose Bolton's father will be arriving tomorrow at sunset and my betrothed, his father and his brothers as well as the Lords of the North in attendance will most likely not be offering Guest Rights.  I will however inform the Lords of House Stark of the current state of House Bolton under Lord Roose. I miss you and look forward to the day when we can be together as sisters once again.

Yours Forever,

Lady Barbrey of House Ryswell

Bethany read the letter and was smiling slightly, with her eyes becoming slightly watery. Maester Vorian stood by as she had read the raven. She felt a bit of relief as he husband walked over curious at the raven's contents.

Bethany, still effectively mute, merely handed the letter to Roose, who began skimming the letter. She looked at her husband as his eyes scanned the page, before turning to Maester Vorian.

"Maester Vorian, I would like you to keep vigilant to any response from Winterfell and House Stark regarding the current situation with my father," stated Roose. "I would like to be able to safely depart to Winterfell in order to swear fealty as Lord of House Bolton to my Paramount and move House Bolton forward, as well as reunite my wife Lady Bethany with her sister Lady Barbrey Ryswell, as well as take the opportunity to get to know my future goodbrothers."

Chapter Text

HOWLAND IV
WINTERFELL GODSWOOD
Morning 21st Day, 10th Moon, 280AC

Howland Reed walked out of Eddard Stark's bedroom ahead of him, "Seeing you with Barbrey like that makes me long for Jyanna. I can't wait to see her with her beautiful dark brown curls and that wonderful smile of hers and ... "

Eddard chuckled momentarily as they rounded the corner leading to the stairs, "I understand fully."  Eddard's smile dropped slightly as they made their way through the Glass Gardens. "I wouldn't be asking you this unless there was no other way. I know Vidar has some relationship with the Crown and there was something more than just luck for his operation capturing me. I also want to know what Lazoquo Ostelion is after."

"I asked your father the same thing this morning," sad Howland Reed. "He was rather tightlipped about the whole thing. He just muttered something about the Old Man of the North's tomb."

Eddard nodded, "Well, perhaps we should take a look there after we're done in the Godswood."  The two entered the Godswood and made their way to the Heart Tree. Eddard could see the direwolves all napping in their shelter, being less active in the Winter morning as most predators tended to be. Cregan and Lynara stirred briefly and whimpered a half-hearted greeting in Eddard's direction. Howland saw Eddard stop for a moment, smile for a moment then continue. As they reached the Heart Tree, Howland looked at Eddard briefly before saying, "I don't know how long I'll be here motionless. I hope you don't...."

"I think I still owe you still for relieving Barbrey watching over me during my long warging," said Eddard as he took a seat on a flat rock, pulling out of wooden flask of mulled wine and some dried mutton for his breakfast. "And the Old Gods didn't ask you to take a passenger this time like they did with Barbrey the other day, so I understand."

Howland smiled as he pulled out a dagger at this point and cut his palm and placed his hand on the bark of the ancient Weirwood Tree.  Howland felt the familiar feeling of reality folding in on itself and swirling briefly as he found himself elsewhere....

DEEP LAKE, NORTH SIDE OF THE WALL
Late 227AC


Howland found himself standing in the courtyard of an castle that seemed abandoned. It seemed relatively recent however in its construction, maybe a couple centuries old as opposed to millenia like the older castles such as Winterfell or the Wolf's Den or the Dreadfort.  There was snow on the ground but this seemed more like a summer snow. The castle itself was by a rather large lake and a mere stones throw from the castle was the Wall which itself curved around the contours of the lake. Howland heard a scuffle from the direction of the castle.

He saw around eight men chasing down three men into the castle courtyard. Howland passed some other bodies, killed via single combat on the way. The bodies were all dressed more primitively and practically than other Northmen suggesting they were wildlings.  They had no armor on save for a few who had some leather armor with bronze discs attached.

Howland reached the courtyard and saw two of the pursued wildlings in the process of being killed via swordpoint. As he moved further into the courtyard he saw the eight mens' leader standing with the Valyrian Steel greatsword Ice pointed at a wounded man holding a pair of small axes. 

The leader was definitely a Stark, based on his long face and grey eyes. He was built large and broad like Eddar's older brother Brandon was built but he had the warm wolf eyes which Benjen had as opposed to the icy grey eyes Eddard had.  The leader had a booming voice which echoed off the walls of the abandoned castle, "You cowardly little fuck. Think you can backstab my brother Willam after your men shot him full of arrows. I'm going to take your fucking head off just like Willam took your brother Raymun's! "

The wounded man with the twin axes was Red Raven. No one knew his real name, remembered Howland. Based on what he thought he was about to see, no one ever would. The leader of the eight holding Ice however was unmistakably Artos Stark, also known as Artos the Implacable. Artos kicked the slightly smaller Red Raven, who fell backwards into the large cylindrical base below a five yard tall statue of Queen Alysanne Targaryen.  Before the wildling could recover, the wildling had the greatsword Ice go clean through his neck, embedding itself in the base of the statue behind him.

Red Raven's head slid off the Valyrian Steel blade onto the ground with a vacant stare. Artos wrenched the greatsword from the base of the statue as pieces fell off of the base. Artos looked at the pieces and it appeared as thought they were just part of an inch thick layer of cement which was smoothed over the rock base. The cement veneer hid a round circular marking. As Artos touched the marking he felt that it offered less resistance than the surrounding stone and pressed it. Immediately the statue's base moved to his left revealing a stairway leading downwards.  Artos looked at the other men in slight confusion before saying, "Looks like Good Queen Alysanne has left us a surprise."

Howland chuckled himself as the men also seemed to enjoy the jape as they descended the stairs. One of the men lit a torch with his flint and lit the braziers scatterd in the four corners of the large room. The room was bare save for a small desk with a chair and several papers as well as several large chests. Artos opened one of the chests and found it filled to the brim with bankers boxes full of coins.  He picked up one of the boxes opening it to find eight rows of fifty filled with gold dragons. Artos held one up inspecting it. Howland from his point of view could see the face on the head side noting the face of Viserys I Targaryen giving the time when these coins were minted.  Artos turned to the rather large one of his companions behind him who found something on the desk.

"Artos, look at this," said the bearded man with giant's blood.

"What is it, Lord Harmond?"

"Read it," said Lord Harmond Umber handing Artos a piece of parchment.

Howland couldn't see what the parchment said, "Bloody Seven Hells. Looks like Daeron First of His Name was worried more about invading Dorne than living up to his obligations on the other end of the Westeros. Guess this gold belongs to House Stark now."  Artos paused a moment, "Harmond, I'm going to want to talk to you and your sons as well as the Mountain Clans in the future as far as taking back the New Gift. Looks like we may have the starting funds for some ideas my brother Willam and I were discussing since our father Beron's death." Artos and Harmond began talking extensively, but Howland ignored such when he began to read the document:

Lord Cregan Stark,

I wish to again thank you and the people of the North for their support in restoring the rightful line of succession of House Targaryen through my mother Rhaenyra's line. I do wish the heirs to the Kings of WInter to be united with the Blood of Old Valyria, Direwolves with Dragons, as you had made arrangements with my late cousin Jaecaerys Velaryon.  I have set aside the the bride price of 1.8 million dragons to add to the 1.8 million of calculated losses to House Stark during the conflict within the Kingdom.  I wish to have a son of yours marry a daughter of mine. If this does not come to pass before my death, I trust my heir to inform you of the location of this cache and make good on our agreement.

Aegon Targaryen
Third of his Name, King of the Andals and the Rhoynar and the First Men,
Lord of the Seven Kingdoms and Protector of the Realm

Howland's attention turned to another document to another document lying on the desk. Howland knew he could not touch it but was able to read some of the exposed text in the a more Northern style script. The script seemed to be from a much later time given the less faded condition of the ink and the less weathered parchment.

...shall not have Vermax' clutch. Aegon Third of His Name's line may have won the Dance but I fear the descendants of the Blacks will be just as decadent as those from the Greens. The time for the dragons and dragonriders I am sorry to say, is at an end, and my time is short for this world. The Winter Wolves' legacy has been betrayed by Aegon's heirs, from the first heir worried more about conquering Dorne ultimately getting himself killed by Dornishmen and taking my son Rickon with him to the afterlife for his folly. To the holier-than-everyone-zealot Baelor. To the glutton who shared his namesake who died rotting covered in his own shit. It's best we let this decadent line die out and not allow them to rule over us again. Our line has not been without fault however. My son Jonnel having no heir upon his death allowed Barthogan to become Lord of the North only to get himself killed in a folly similar to Daeron First of His Name with his invasion of Skagos. My hope is my youngest Brandon's line will fulfill the prophecy given to me years ago by Weirwood Wylla where the Warg King's and Kings of Winter's true heir comes into his...

Howland noted by the other items in the room indicated that Deep Lake had been used as a hideout for the remaining Winter Wolves and the text he just read may have been Cregan's last letter to whichever one of that group of Northmen had been stationed here at the abandoned (at least by the Night's Watch) castle. 

Shortly after he read the last text, he caught a glimpse of the men carrying the chests one by one up the stairs. Around this time Howland saw the world gradually becoming blurred and swirling around him as he felt a shift coming on. His greensight took him elsewhere and elsewhen.

CASTERLY ROCK, WESTERLANDS
Mid-Year, 268AC

Howland found himself standing in the middle of a large open room or a balcony - Howland couldn't tell which actually, although he guessed most likely both as it seemed to wrap around the entire castle carved into the side of a massive rock overlooking the Sunset Sea. The architecture of the room was very heavy and solid structurally overlaid with ironwood and golden decorations of a more garishly elaborate manner of construction. He was silk curtains everywhere along with some fancy rugs on the smooth tiled floor. There were a few golden busts of figures scattered around the room along with very comfortable looking darkwood furuniture whose feet resembled those of lions. The color scheme appeared to be one of crimson red and gold throughout.

Casterly Rock, I'm guessing, Howland thought to himself.  He sees several two very noble women arrive with their children and two maids in tow leaving an large open door towards the inner part of the castle.

One woman is obviously very Dornish, dressed in yellow and orange Dornish silks and lots of golden jewelry decorating her body including a rather garish hooped nosering with a golden chain reaching to a hoop in her nose with small rubies along the golden chain which led to her ear and a golden chain hairnet which encased her thick jet black hair.  She had entered with her son, a skinny boy of eight namedays old with a sly smile and her daughter, who appeared to be a miniature skinny five nameday old version of herself.

The Dornishwoman was accompanied by a woman of equally enchanting beauty, dressed in a simple but elegant crimson gown trimmed with actual golden thread. Her green eyes sparkled as she walked along with two small children, a boy and a girl, of three namedays old, each being carried by a nursemaid. Howland heard the women conversing as they passed him.

"Joanna, sometimes I do not understand our friend Rhaella," said the Dornishwoman as they walked along. "I am hoping that the coin hasn't landed on that side for her too."

The tall golden-haired woman responded in a very even and controlled tone, "Rhaella does not have the issues her brother-husband is beginning to have. The Seven know how many times Tywin has come to me asking why his old friend must continue to become more and more delusional every day. and not listen to him. He carries a heavy enough burden trying to govern the Seven Kingdoms and keep it intact enough until Rhaegar comes of age to wear the crown."  Joanna paused, "Although I'm not sure what's going on myself with her, Loreza."

"Daeron seems to be a rather healthy baby for a change," replied Loreza. "After two miscarriages and a stillborn after Rhaegar, perhaps she is just worried she will lose this one as she did the others. I wouldn't worry however. Her first wasn't all that healthy for the first year of his life. Perhaps the Seven decided to finally bless her."

Joanna responded in a manner which suggested she knew more but wouldn't entertain the fact, "Perhaps."  Howland could tell in Loreza's voice that she was suggesting something regarding the second son of the King and Queen of the Seven Kingdoms.

Howland stayed where he was as the women continued down the corridor talking about other things such as their own children and other mundane things such as how hard it is to get certain commodities in Casterly Rock or Lannisport due to it being on the wrong coast.  After a minute or so he saw two kingsguard dressed in their white enameled plate armor escorting a very Northern looking woman whom he clearly could see was a woods witch. Based on her clothing and the wreath of weirwood leaves in her hair, Howland Reed recognized her instantly. As did the Woods Witch, who stopped suddenly.

"Miss, we'll need to continue on," said the olive-skinned kingsguard.

The woods witch looked directly at Howland Reed, "The greenseer who has witnessed my death is watching us." Before she looked at the olive-skinned kingsguard, "If the father and brother are burned by the mad dragon and the war begins, the silent direwolf will protect the little suns from rabid dogs and pigs with knives. You are a good man, Prince Lewyn."

"Well I guess I will owe Ser Oswell a cask of Dornish Red, Ser Barristan," said Prince Lewyn after standing there for a moment confused but oddly disturbed by the diminutive woods witch's statements.

Ser Barristan responded, "How so, Prince Lewyn?"

"I told him I'd be bored whilst we were here at Casterly Rock," responded Prince Lewyn,

Ser Barristan nodded , trying to contain his laughter, then gruffly added, "The queen wanted to have some predictions of the future. The Master of Whispers found out about this woods witch named Weirwood Wylla who could help her. She's not like the normal soothsayers I've seen."

"No, I am not," said Weirwood Wylla. "If the father and brother are burned by deceit in the old castle, the hand that pets the rabid dog will be your demise as the father of the king is murdered."

The woods witch and the two kingsguard moved towards the room where the two noblewomen had emerged from earlier. Howland followed and saw standing near a window was a woman with long silver hair wearing a rather revealing gown in black trimmed with red. She wore a wide silver necklace trimmed with gold and jewelled with rubies as well as several silver and gold bracelets. Upon her head was a light crown of silver and gold with rubies for its jewels. She was holding a small but very healthy-looking infant. As the party arrived she put the infant down in a bassinet nearby and walked towards the new arrivals. Howland assumed that this must be Queen Rhaella Targaryen, just based on her appearance. Most likely the infant was Prince Daeron who had just been born a few months earlier. Daeron would be about the age

Ser Barristan began, "Your Grace, we have brought the woods witch you had sent for. Did you requi__?"

The woman interrupted, "That will be all, Ser Barristan.  Prince Lewyn and yourself may wait outside." 

The kingsguard seemed hesitant as the woods witch stated, "I have no need to physically harm others, when they are all so capable of and intent on doing so to themselves."  Rhaella merely nodded as they departed to the other side of the door.

"You seek something from me," said the woods witch.

"Yes, I do," said Rhaella, oddly confidently and somewhat in the same manner one would address a servant. "I need to know my son's future, will he be king? Will the dragons return to our house? Will... "

Weirwood Wylla held her hand up, "Silence, child."  The woods witch's voice reminded Howland of Winterfell's Old Nan when scolding children who were misbehaving and talking out of turn, "You do not seek the answers of whether something will happen or not. You seek the answers of how to make the future bend to your mortal whims. But the direction of the future is determined by Gods who have seen the future play out an infinite amount of times"

Rhaella seemed to be beside herself becoming visibly angered by actions she felt were insolent. She responded, somewhat frustrated,  "Very well"   Howland could sense Weirwood Wylla could almost read Rhaella's thoughts. "How do I ... ?"

"You don't," said Weirwood Wylla pausing before smiling in a reassuring manner, "But then again no one does. All I can do is relate to you what glimpses I can see of the future. That particular future I can see is one determined by Gods who have seen the future play out an infinite amount of times and which course."

"What does the future hold for my line?" asked Rhaella

Weirwood Wylla put her hand forward, "Take my hand."  Rhaella presented her right hand as Weirwood Wylla took it gently, turning Rhaella's palm up. Howland observed as Weirwood Wylla's thumbnail lengthed to a sharp clawlike point as she took a grip on Rhaella's hand, slicing across Rhaella's palm with her thumb. A gash was opened by Wylla on Rhaella's palm. Howland observed Rhaella looked like she wanted to scream, but was unable to as Weirwood Wylla held Rhaella's palm to her own bosom.

Weirwood Wylla turned to where Howland Reed was standing, nodding in acknowledgement. Howland nodded in gratitude to the invitation to observe, smiled somewhat proudly that he was considered a Greenman already by one of the Old Gods' emissaries. 

Weirwood Wylla then stated, "The future of your House is not as defined  as it could be, but your lineage will continue in three branches: the first being a queen who never was being delivered to the suns by the silent wolf from the jaws of three dogs and a pig with knives, the second by the union of a dragon born during a storm and the third child named for the father of conquerors, and the third being the heir to Neferion born of a wolf defiled by the eldest dragon and raised by the silent wolf king and the destrier queen."

Howland felt like he needed a quill and parchment to take that all down although Rhaella looked slightly confused although somehow placated smiling, and had obviously was not listening as closely as she should have past the first sentence. Howland also surmised however that House Stark may be intertwined with two of those branches fairly closely given the references to the silent wolf. It may have been something which he may have to think upon for the future. "Well the dragons return for my House?"

"Twenty Seven Eggs existed. Nineteen have travelled to the Shadow beyond the Bloodstone and further."

"Where are the remaining eight dragon eggs?"

"Five are in an Essosi place founded by those who overthrew the Empire of your ancestors protected by no one and it is a place which no king would dare violate. Three are laying at the feet of the man whom the unlucky dragonbane owed his throne to. I see those three coming into possession of the one the followers of the Red God are awaiting."

Rhaella visibly shifted, thinking for a moment where these might be. Howland knew instantly the second statement regarding the three dragon eggs. They were most likely in Cregan Stark's tomb based on the historical reference to Aegon III.The first was an obvious reference to Braavos possibly was referencing the deeper vaults of the Iron Bank The three in the crypts were most likely what Lazoquo Ostelion of Myr was sent to retrieve.

Rhaella looked to Weirwood Wylla regarding the last sentence, "The Prince that was Promised being from my line. I've been told this before."

"Yes. And did you truly listen to what my fellow völva, Önð Ór Hár Hjarta, told you?" stated Weirwood Wylla almost accusingly. Ghost of High Heart, thought Howland. I'm guessing the woods witches must communicate with each other often.

"She implied the Prince who was Promised would be of my line. I'm assuming that you're referring to Rhaegar or his sons or Daeron or his sons."

Wylla sighed, "Well you are close, but I think you are assuming that the Prince who was Promised is a literal prince within House Targaryen."

Rhaella stated, "Why wouldn't it be?"

Weirwood Wylla stated, "Just because someone descends from your line does not mean they're from the Crown directly. The Prince that was Promised I see as coming from the third branch I had mentioned before. That branch of yours is particularly important for the outcome of the Long Night."

Rhaella seeem irked at the answer, "What is that supposed to mean?"

"The outcome of the Long Night will be determined by the actions of Five True Heirs of Royal Blood and Five Bastards. The Prince who was Promised is amongst them but all I know is it is a 'he' "

"Five Bastards of Royal Blood?  Five Blackfyres?" queried Rhaella.

"Not Blackfyre in the sense you're using the term," retorted the woods witch. "The patrilineal line of House Blackfyre ended years ago in Lys with the last member being rendered unable to sire an heir. Blackfyre is also used in  the sense a name like Snow, Sand, Waters, Hill, Stone, Rivers, Flowers, Pyke have been used throughout the Seven Kingdoms."

Weirwood Wylla paused again letting it sink in before continuing, "House Targaryen is not the only Royal Blood on this continent. The Starks have been here for thousands of years being descended from the Kings of Winter. Your handmaidens are both from Royal Blood of the Rhoynar and the First Men of the Westerland respectively.  From my visions i see these ten being supported by the remaining monarchs of the North, Dorne, and the Four Kingdoms."

Rhaella seemed angered at this, "You mean the Seven Kingdoms."

Weirwood Wylla states, "That's not what the Old Gods have planned."

"Who are monarchs of the North and Dorne then?"

"In Dorne, the Queen will be a pure Rhoynish descendant, most likely from the current line of House Martell. Her king however....it is vague as the only image I have is a merman of the stoney stream adoring the sun."

Rhaella nodded, seeming not to be mind with such, being somewhat pleased. Howland figured that, in the future, Dorne must have declared independence when the North did. It was not as though Dorne was as closely under the rule of the Crown as the other realms of the Seven Kingdoms, given the wide berth they had been given since the negotiations between Prince Maron and King Daeron II. 

"The King and Queen of the North I know well for I have seen my own death being intertwined with their rise to power. The North is ruled by a King who is the true descendant of the Kings of Winter and the daughters of the Warg King. He will make his presence known years before his reign, commanding his army of direwolves to massacre an army of thousands under the command of one of the descendants of the Red Kings. The place will be known in the future Blóðúlfr Hagi.  Ok einu Hjartatré munu vaxa inn miðrinn ór haginn."  Howland was able to decipher  the Old Tongue. The place where Eddard's warged into the direwolves to kill the Bolton army will be known as The Meadow of the Bloody Wolf and a single Heart Tree ( Hjartatré  ) will have grown in the middle of the field.  Weirwood Wylla continued, "His queen is from an ancient house the descendant of a great Northern Queen herself."

Rhaella shifted slightly, "I suppose we can bring them to heel as Aegon did Torrhen.....The Seven Kingdoms must remain intact."

Weirwood Wylla laughed mockingly. "The King who shares the name of the good and young dragon will be considerably weaker than the silent wolf king. I foresee if the Seven Kingdoms remain intact, I see a vague different path which may leave your House being subverted for another's glory only to have the Long Night come without a savior. "

"The silent wolf king is a Stark," said Rhaella, ignoring the warnings about the Long Night. Weirwood Wylla merely nodded. Howland noted that the query was most likely rhetorical, hence the woods witch's response. "Which Stark is he?"

"A common Northern Name yet uncommon Stark name from the days of the Kings of Winter and their conquests, balancing the scales with the heir to the Warg King being named for the one who slayed him in single combat."

Rhaella nodded, before she quickly dismissed the woods witch, "Kirimvose syt aōha sylvie, maegys. Kostā henujagon." 

Weirwood Wylla responded, "Mazverdagon va lyks lēda se Zokla, syt se Zaldrīzoti kessa sagon nākostōbā, se kessa mōris bē vīlībāzma pōntāla. "

Rhaella scoffed, "Stārke Lentor kessa obūljagon naejot Targārien Lentor, qilōni iksis se ānogar hen uēpa Valyria.."

Weirwood Wylla merely smiled and nodded as Rhaella, "Kostagon se Jaes Uēpys se se Arlie tepagon vaoreznon naejot aōha prūmia.  Geros ilas, Dāria Rhaella."    Howland noted the overly polite tone of Weirwood Wylla's voice even in the foreign language, something he was all too familiar with North of the Neck although there were similar mannerisms used in certain parts of the Riverlands nobility and with smallfolk in general North and West of the God's Eye.  Being a shade of a Greenman, he concentrated for a moment and the words foreign to him began to make sense. Weirwood Wylla was dismissed by Rhaella after she felt satisfied with enough information. Weirwood Wylla gave the Queen a warning that it is advisable to make peace with the 'Wolves' as the 'Dragons' were weak and might end up fighting themselves. Howland did know his history and another Dance of the Dragons would definitely precipitate a Northern secession given how much it bled during the first Dance. Rhaella then declared as a command meant to be delivered to the North that House Stark will be subservient to House Targaryen. After which the woods witch took her leave after a polite blessing voiced in such a way to the learned listener that it was anything but a blessing.

Rhaella called for the Kingsguard and they escorted Weirwood Wylla. Shortly after Howland watched Ser Barristan Selmy enter with a raven with an odd sigil in black wax with gold leaf depicting a dragon with wings spread holding a sword in one talon and a human skull in the other. Rhaella smiled as she saw the raven as Ser Barristan handed it to her saying , "Raven for you, your Grace."

"Thank you, Ser Barristan," said Rhaella, smiling ear to ear as she opened the raven.  Ser  She began to read but her smile dropped as soon as she began to read further.   Rhaella screamed at the top of her lungs, then growled under her breath in High Valyrian, "Rickard Stārke , kesā addemmagon syt bisa isse Perzys Ānogār.  Kessa sagon addemmagon lēda aōha tresy, se Dārilaros hen Dāryssy hen  Sōnar se se se Ñellyarlinio Dārys, lo ao gaomagon hen ñuha Lentor skoros iksis īlvon".    Howland concentrated again and was able to understand, "Rickard Stark , you will paid for this in fire and blood.  It will be paid with your son, the heir of the Kings of the Winter and and the Warg [Skinchanger] King, if you keep from my House what is ours."

The nearby infant began crying in its bassinet. Rhaella lay the raven down on a nearby small end table next to a settee as she went to comfort the little one.  Howland decided to read the raven, watching the foreign characters and words morph into language he could understand as he began to concentrate more:

Queen Rhaella Targaryen,

I hope you are doing well after the birth of your second son, Daeron. May he grow strong quickly and show the might of the Old Blood upon reaching his manhood.

My subordinates made a recent trip to Braavos and have observed something interesting goiing on which may be of interest to you. The Lord Paramount of the North along with several of his relatives just met the Wolfmother and the rest of the Company of the Rose on the private docks behind the Iron Bank.

I sent my best whisperers to do some digging and these were the same ships which had been docked in Volantis five years previous stating they were sailing for Qarth. My one source in Qarth noted they had departed eastward towards Leng and various ports around the Jade Sea ultimately arriving at Ass'hai.   Last year they reappeared in Braavos. I can confirm that the Wolfmother , a captain now in the Company of the Rose, has met with Rickard Stark again. However, the meeting appeared to be all business despite his own son by her being present. Evidently House Stark made a rather large deposit given there was enough gold presumably to fill four war galleys owned by the company along with the amount of troops required to defend such on the high seas. House Stark's holdings most likely rival your own houses not to mention the coffers of your own Realm of the Seven Kingdoms.

Of interest to note was one of our agents observed Lord Rickard inspecting three chests from afar. He opened one which contained what looked like three precious stones about the size of the average man's head.  Rickard took the one he opened with him and the remainder I believe were placed deep in the vaults of the Iron Bank along where they keep the most prestigious of customers' valuables.  I have a guess as to what those precious stones might be given the last time I had seen one of those was in posession of your Grandfather just before he burned down that castle in the Stormlands with wildfire and burning all but you, your firstborn, and that dwarven woods witch who seemed to be a friend of Ser Duncan the Tall.

I will inform you of any further information through our normal methods until we meet again next my love.

As Ever,

Archon Vidar of House Tarraenos, Old Blood of Volantis

As Howland Reed finished reading the raven, he exited the room determined to look around a bit more. He felt the sudden shift in reality as the power of greensight took him elsewhere and elsewhen.

INN AT THE CROSSROADS, KINGSROAD, THE RIVERLANDS
Late 285AC

Howland found himself in the middle of what appeared to be a solar in a castle. It wasn't Winterfell however although it looked strangely familiar. Howland realized that this was Lord Wyman Manderly's solar at the Merman's Court in White Harbor. He recognized Lord Wyman and his son Wylis standing next to Lord Eddard Stark. Lord Eddard did look slightly older with a full beard and was dressed oddly more like a Lord than the warrior Howland knew him as.  Standing next to him was a slightly shorter man with dark hair and grey eyes which looked like chips of dirty ice. The man next to him wore normal Northern Lordly garments with a brooch on his high collar shaped like a man crucified on an X. This was undoubtedly one of House Bolton, most likely Lord Roose Bolton. 

Howland also noticed an older Cregan, the destrier-sized direwolf, lounging by the hearth, half asleep.

Lord Wylis Manderly opened the door to the solar and in walked in two figures. One was clearly Queen Rhaella Targaryen, slightly older than she was when Howland saw her last. The other was a well-built older man with silver hair and deep purple, almost black, eyes dressed more like a very high ranking Essosi noble from Volantis or somewhere east of such.  Howland noticed Eddard's eyes narrowing at the man and Cregan awakening, letting out a growl before Eddard calmed himself down.

Rhaella was the one to step forward, "I know that we haven't exactly seen eye to eye, but...."

Eddard interrupted, "That, your Grace, is an understatement. Your brother-husband arranged to have my entire family killed in my our home.  I've lost my father and both my brothers not to mention ten of my people including two Lords of the North. My goodfather Lord Rodrik Ryswell and the Greatjon now walk with the Old Gods.....You know the wildfire seeped down from the Old Keep into the Crypts and that fire in the Crypts burned for nearly a year."  

Eddard paused for a moment before containing his anger stating calmly, "I supported your son Rhaegar at the Great Council at the behest of another Lord Paramount, my goodbrother Lord Robert Baratheon and my sister Lady Lyanna Baratheon.  Your son Rhaegar however took it upon himself to thank House Baratheon by going mad himself and raping my sister. Forgive my hesitancy to support House Targaryen in this next Great Council after my sister is now dead from birthing a child born from Rhaegar's defiling of her, my goodbrother having been sentenced to the Wall for the rest of his life, and his legitimate son declared a bastard so there will be no contesting Lord Stannis and his heirs' rule over the Stormlands with the Lady of Storm's End being picked by your Hand, Lord Tywin Lannister.  I've given my answer via raven that I will abstain from the vote. You already know which way the North will go if anything else happens to my House and my people."

Rhaella began, "Torrhen bent the knee to Aegon First of His Name pledging fealty to House Targaryen in perpetuity for...."

Eddard slightly growled before he interrupted, "Torrhen bent the knew because Aegon arrived with his two sisters on three beasts which could burn entire armies threatened to use such on his armies as well as the people of the North. Additionally, Torrhen did not have the confidence in his half-brother's new untested weapons against such dragons.  So, do not take me for a fool, there is nothing at this moment preventing me putting forth independence of the North as an option for the Lords under me.  I will still honor alliances which currently exist between myself and the various Lords Paramount however of the resultant Six Kingdoms."

Rhaella steeled herself, "You hold more influence amongst other Six Kingdoms than you may realize Lord Eddard. If you give fealty tmy son Daeron as King, this will give the stability the Seven Kingdoms need to prosper."

Roose Bolton spoke up, "Goodbrother, House Targaryen needs you and the North as a counterweight to Lord Tywin Lannister, considering the Old Lion has insisted on his daughter being wed to Daeron as the primary condition of his becoming Lord Hand and he's been throwing a Lannister behind everything. This most likely explains why Orys is now a Storm instead of a Baratheon given Lord Tywin's youngest goodsister was wed to Lord Stannis and the Crown was oddly insistent on delegitimizing Lyanna and Robert's son Orys."

Eddard nodded, "I noticed Lord Tywin was very insistent on such. I've heard the Royal Wedding already happened three moons ago and let me guess, the heir is already confirmed as being on the way. The Old Lion wants to replace House Targaryen with House Lannister on the throne. I'd suggest perhaps holding an open flame to the infant when it is born to be sure that there is Dragon's Blood there."

Rhaella's eyes narrowed at the implications, "You're insinuating that the heir is not legitimate?"

Lord Eddard nodded, "I'm not insinuating. I'm stating there is a very distinct possibility that Daeron is not the father. I'm speaking from experience with Lyanna and Robert wedding each other quickly at the Isle of Faces after the Tourney at Harrenhal since Lyanna was already four moons along with Orys. They wanted to ensure Orys wouldn't be a bastard nor his parentage be questioned. Odd that his parentage being unquestioned was the very thing that caused Orys to be exiled as a bastard to be raised by his uncle in Winterfell." Eddard paused before looking to Rhaella, "My guess is, if you had insisted on waiting for a proper Royal Wedding, it might have become obvious that Cersei was carrying the child fathered by someone other than Daeron. But I could be wrong. Barbrey and I conceived Beron and Lysara fairly soon a little before our own wedding as well, so if Daeron and Cersei had been intimate prior to the wedding, I wouldn't worry."

The look on Rhaella's face betrayed that she now suspected that Daeron's Rhaella nodded, as Eddard looked towards the man with her. Eddard stated rather coldly, "Finally, I meet the man behind my childhood captivity. I will say you're either brave or foolish stepping into the North, Vidar Tarraenos."

Vidar nodded, speaking Common Tongue in a heavy Volantene accent,  "I am here for no reason other than to support my love, Queen Rhaella. If it aids my welcome here, I will say that Royce Bolton is no more. Picked him up in Lys at one of the brothels we control and we delivered him to no one." Howland watched Eddard as he seemed to recognize the reference. 

"No one will leave you to your own life. Given you're here, you've most likely fallen out of power in Volantis and no longer are able to engage in activities which offend no one," stated Eddard. Howland noted the language was subtle in common tongue. Eddard seemed like he was making a generic statement to Vidar Tarraenos but was referencing the House of Black and White. Royce Bolton had crossed the Faceless Men and perhaps Vidar Tarraenos had bought his way out of being a target for them given the history of Faceless Men. House Tarraenos was one of the loyal minor houses under House Noponis, one of the two score powerful families of Dragonlords which controlled Valyria before the Doom. House Noponis ran most of the volcanic mines which the slaves who eventually became the first Faceless Men originated from.

Vidar nodded, "I have...downsized my operations upon my arrival on Dragonstone. Se ra gaomi syt jorrāelagon.":  Howland noticed the look Vidar gave Rhaella and the glance the Queen Dowager returned. Eddard noticed as well and his gaze softened slightly, looking towards Roose. The things we do for love, Vidar had said seemed to resonate with Eddard as well as his goodbrother Roose. Howland would find out later that a major factor behind Roose's own internal coup against his father for Lordship of the Dreadfort was his love for Bethany.

"Aye," responded Eddard, "Love will change a man, oftentimes for the better. Very well I will not seek any vengeance on you for any past wrongs you've committed against me, Lord Vidar."  Howland could see both Rhaella and Vidar let out a subtle sigh of relief.

Lord Eddard Stark moved back to the subject by stating, "But back to the matter at hand, which my goodbrother Lord Bolton so accurately pointed out. You need House Stark and the North as a counterweight so to speak to House Lannister under Lord Tywin.  I accept that reality.  If that is the case then I suggest perhaps, we perhaps join our families. Perhaps Beron with your daughter Daenerys, to finally renew and seal the Pact of Ice and Fire that Cregan Stark and Aegon Third of his Name had planned? "

Rhaella countered, "The heirs of Beron to the heirs of Daeron's heirs. I wish to retain at least one more generation of dominant Valyrian lineage by marrying Daenerys to perhaps one of Daeron's sons."

Lord Eddard nodded, "Fair enough. In that case, at least one son from the union will foster in the Vale under Lord Denys Arryn. Daenerys will foster for a few years in Winterfell and take a tour of the North.  Beron's first born son will marry the first born proper Targaryen son's first born daughter.  Ice and Fire will unite."

Rhaella nods, "Acceptable. What do we get in return, other than your endorsement and fealty to the Crown?"

"Depending on how the fosterings go, I may give Daenerys and Daeron and his children part of House Targaryen's legacy that were left with us by Jaecaerys Velaryon and his dragon Vermax. "  Eddard's face was like a stone statue when he said that. Rhaella's face cracked a slight smile as there appeared to be some rapprochement between the two Houses.

"These will be held in trust until such time by House Stark and guarded by  Lord Rodrik Glover, then Jon Blackfyre when he comes of age," Eddard finished. Rhaella's smile dropped slightly. Howland realized that this meant that Eddard would be giving the Targaryens their dragons back but effectively neutralizing the Crown's effectiveness in dominating the North, as putting such under Rhaegar's bastard would ensure that most likely the North would have at least one dragon of their own.  

"Additionally upon the union of our houses, I will reform the Winter Wolves," stated Lord Eddard as Cregan rose from his slumber and lumbered towards the table and looked contemplatively at Rhaella, visibly sniffing around her before leaning towards her raised hand. Rhaella stroked massive direwolf behind the ear.  Eddard continued, "After that your house will be considered part of the pack and the pack will take care of its own."

Queen Rhaella smiled slightly as the maester and his scribe were called in to assist in drafting the agreement between House Stark and House Targaryen. Howland then watched as the various delegations enterred and then left, leaving Eddard Stark and Roose Bolton standing behind alone.

Eddard stated, "I feel optimistic about this agreement, despite my misgivings about the Queen Dowager and Archon Vidar."

Roose responded, "I think you're underestimating Tywin Lannister's avarice and pride as well as his reach, and overestimating his concern for the realm." Howland watched as Eddard looked at his goodbrother, "I daresay you've gone soft since Beron and Lysara were born and the North started prospering. Lord Tywin's still bitter at House Targaryen for Aerys' doing whatever he could to humiliate him, Rhaegar passing over the offer to remarry to his daughter Cersei, and he still fucking hates you for not going with the deal he proposed to your father once he replied to the initial raven announcing he knew about the development on the Sunset Coast."

Eddard nods, "Why would he.... ? I made quite a lucrative deal with House Lannister for trade between Rillstone and Lannisport."

Roose countered, "With his brother Gerion and his son Jaime. The Lannisters currently running the Westerlands are not the same as the Lannisters currently in Kings Landing even if they are closely related by blood. Do not forget that."

Eddard nodded, as Roose continued, "Our daughters Myranda and Lysara, even at two namedays, behave like close sisters. Bethany has told me that she may be carrying my heir, as I heard her sister may be carrying possibly your second son or daughter. I want to see House Stark and House Bolton flourish, but I am the only remaining line of House Bolton, as you are the only remaining line of House Stark of Winterfell. "

Eddard nodded, "Aye. I and my heirs will be the only wargs capable of controlling the direwolves in the wolfswood. Without us they'll go wild and migrate back up North of the Wall. Lord Theon Stark never inherited his mother's warging abilities and he's about as likely to get married as Lady Catelyn Manderly's uncle, the Blackfish."

Roose stated vehemently, "I'm serious. Watch yourself as your enemies will strike when you least expect them to. I only say this as I care for you as my goodbrother."

Upon that statement Howland Reed found himself fading away from the Solar and whisked off into the ether to a place elsewhere and elsewhen.

INN AT THE CROSSROADS, KINGSROAD, THE RIVERLANDS
Late 300AC

Howland Reed found himself in an unfamiliar wooded area near the Kingsroad. He thought it may be somewhere south and he saw a nearby large building. Seeing as there were Stark banners as well as horses and some tents for what looked like the family's personal guard outside, Howland decided to enter to see where he was.There were several direwolves resting sleeping under the shade of a tree nearby and

He was shocked as to what he found, mainly out of surprise as he saw his friends Lord Eddard Stark and Lady Barbrey Ryswell sitting at a table with several younger people. They were all sitting around the table drinking what appeared to be some local wine rather than ale. Eddard had a full beard which was still well trimmed but was showing patches of grey. Barbrey had a few grey streaks in her hair as well. This must be in the future, he thought.

"Well, it appears as though we'll actually have a Southron marriage for the heir to Lord Paramount of the North," said Eddard Stark as he stood up. "Before we left I signed an alliance agreement with Lord Mace Tyrell as overseen and approved by King Daeron, Third of his Name, and Lord Hand Tywin Lannister. " Eddard looked to the young man who bore an uncanny resemblance to Brandon Stark but had Benejn's jovial smile. "Ser Beron, the Rose of Highgarden insisted to her father that she be betrothed to the knight  to whom she had given her favor for the tourney. You know the one whom you crowned the Queen of Love and Beauty?"

Beron began to turn slightly red saying enthusiastically and questioningly, "She did, Father?"

Barbrey spoke up in her usual wry manner, "Actually, that's half the truth, Ned. The Queen of Thorns insisted and Margaery convinced her father that it was wise to go along with it.  That little shit of a crown prince is being betrothed to Arianne Martell to smooth things over with Dorne. "

Beron stated with obvious disdain revealing his inner thoughts on the situation, "What in Seven Hells did Arianne Martell do wrong to deserve that little shit as her betrothed."

Eddard Stark looked at Barbrey, "You got betrothed to Queen Cersei's first choice for a bride for her son. The Queen of Thorns however must have preferred having wolves as future great grandchildren rather than lions.  Arianne Martell was recommended as a means of neutralizing Rhaenys Targaryen's claim to the throne. The real heirs to House Targaryen will be through the children of Aerion and Daenerys in my opinion. "

Beron nodded, "Yes father."

Barbrey looked at Eddard, "It is true that Prince Jaehaerys is an entitled brat who has hidden behind his mother's skirts his entire life. Daeron didn't object to Cersei casting aside the agreement between House Stark and House Targaryen to have Jaehaerys fostered with each of the kingdoms' Lords Paramount for a year beginning on his tenth nameday. If he wasn't the Crown Prince and we weren't in the South, I know you would have called him out for open combat or retract the insult he gave towards your betrothed at the feast. However, Margaery will let you know that in the South people kill each other and plot against each other for the smallest slight."

Eddard grumbled , "Barbrey...."

Beron piped up, "Mum's right, Father, but frankly I think he embarrassed himself.  Jaehaerys' calling me an 'Savage Mutt from the North' didn't upset me in the slightest, it was when he called my betrothed a cheap whore because she had given me her favor, that he should claim first night with her so he can rape a true dragon into her like Rhaegar did to my aunt, Lady Lyanna Baratheon. All smiles dropped after he said that, father."

There were two other people at the table. One was the spitting image of Barbrey with a long kissed-by-fire mane, although she seemed to have Bethany's slimmer grace to her.  She wore a pendant around her neck which had both the direwolf sigil of her house and the old sigil of House Ryder. She spoke, "The Targaryens aren't all bad like Jaehaerys and his mother.  King Daeron is humble and just. Aerion fostered under Lord Denys Arryn in the Vale and is like the Knight of Songs. And Queen Daenerys his betrothed is beautiful and kind and is good friends with Lysara and Myranda."

The remaining Stark looked just like Eddard only with kissed-by-fire hair as well. Turning to his ginger-haired twin, he said, "Sansa, Dany's the side of the coin you want to have flipped for that family. Same with Aerion. Not like their grandfather who sent sellswords to blow up Winterfell along with Rogar and Royce Bolton. I bet he's in a special place of the Seven Hells or wherever for that guy. He took both of our grandfathers and Uncle Brandon and Benjen and the Greatjon from us with that stunt along with several other people.  Then Lyanna had her whole life turned upside down by King Rhaegar becoming obsessed with her and then heading to the Stormlands to rape her the moment Lord Robert headed to the Eyrie to meet with Father, Lord Denys Arryn, Lord Hoster Tully, and Lord Jaime Lannister regarding future trade along the Sunset Sea and Narrow Sea."

Beron nods, "Uncle Robert was lucky he just got sent to take the Black after that one. Smashed Rhaegar's skull in with a warhammer in the middle of the Throneroom in the Red Keep and injured two kingsguards in the process."

Barbrey frowned, "Understandable if you knew Robert and Lyanna. She was his everything. Rhaegar took that away from him when he raped her repeatedly when she was still nursing Orys. By the Old Gods, she was still healing from the birth and he had his Kingsguard there to prevent Lyanna from taking any moon tea until she was four or five moons along when it's too late to do so. Jon's lucky Lyanna didn't miscarry like Elia Martell did, but......"

Barbrey became very choked up for a moment. Howland surmised something happened to Lyanna. Barbrey leaned on Eddard slightly as he handed her a handkerchief to dry her eyes which were tearing up. "Rhaegar took her away from us all.  By the way, when Daenerys had fostered with us. I know its been a few years by why did you give Daeron the rest of the dragon eggs ?  After all their family had fucking done to us."

"I don't judge Aerion or Daenerys or even King Daeron on what their family members had done. Besides their cousin or nephew, Jon Blackfyre, had just hatched Spectre from the chest he found in the Crypts and the two eggs from that chest which that Daenerys and Aerion had come near had called to them," stated Eddard. "I gave them those particular eggs that chose them. It seemed similar to how pups out of Lynara's litters picked Beron, Lysara,  Artos, Sansa, and Arya.  As far as Daeron and his children, it was a Targaryen issue I couldn't very well refuse, any more than they could refuse a direwolf pup calling to a Stark. King Daeron detected Vydrax's egg as did his twin girls on the other two when the King had visited Winterfell. I've entrusted the remaining two to Jon to be the remain the guardian of. "

Barbrey nodded, "Fair enough, but I hope that Aerion and Daenerys are able to use their better judgment. Last person you want with a dragon is someone like Jaehaerys. Vaella luckily has her father's influence but her mother's temperament."

Eddard nodded, "Aye. The Crown Prince would not be the one I would want with access to a Dragon."

Beron scoffed, "Prince Jaehaerys will never be a dragonrider. He's not like Aerion, Rhanesa, Vaella,  Dany or Jon."

Barbrey looked at Beron, "How so?"

"I went with Lord Garlan Tyrell and Lord Renly Baratheon with Tobho Mott's on the Street of Steel. Jaehaerys and Aerion tagged along with us," said Beron. "Aerion stood literally right next to the Forge feeling no effects as he's unburnt. Jaehaerys on the other hand felt the heat. Actually he felt it even more than we did since he, as mum says, has hidden behind his mother's skirts for so long. The ponce hasn't developed that thick skin sons of lord's get after a while from all the combat drills. Even Ser Loras, my future goodbrother who's prettier than my betrothed, has that aspect."

Eddard nodded, thoughtfully. Howland knew that look on his face as Eddard had that look a few times when something seemed to vex him. "That confirms my earlier suspicions from decades ago."

Artos noted, "Speaking of heat, we'll be glad to keep the forge and smelter going in Winterfell. Longest summer yet and that means a long cold winter is coming. Blacksmith's will be the popular place in Winterfell outside fo the walls of the Keeps and Wormways."

Beron just looked at his younger brother, "Winter is Coming?"

Artos japed, "Or in your case Growing Strong whilst Winter is Coming ? "

Eddard and Barbrey laughed and Howland admitted that was a rather intelligent play on house words.

Beron japed,"So Sansa's would be Winter is Coming so let's remember Our Blades Are Sharp?"

Sansa smiled slightly, stating, "My Ser Domeric is an honorable knight, fostered by Lord Denys Arryn and knighted by Ser Harrold Mallister, for his heroism against the Ironborn in defense of Seagard." She then added, "Or in Arya's case, Ours is the Fury whilst Winter is Coming whilst we remain Unbowed, Unbent, Unbroken?"

Eddard frowned as did Barbrey. Barbrey spoke up looking at Eddard, "Are they still at it?  We can't have Arya...."

Eddard held his hand up, "Like you couldn't dissuade Lyanna from going into heat around Robert? Arya may look like her aunt but Orys and her are more like his parents than you might think. Arya's no delicate Winter Rose either, which is why I agreed to foster her with Prince Doran and Princess Mellario. But word is he's en route back himself via Old Town back to Grey Harbor."

Barbrey protested, "Eddard, Orys is a... "

Eddard spoke, "Bastard?  Yes but he is honestly devoted to our daughter Arya who is a third daughter.  And technically he wouldn't have been a bastard had it not been by decree of the Crown. He was made such so the Crown could be sure that that none of Robert's line could seek any further vengeance. They made Robert's stiff younger brother, Stannis, Lord Paramount and married him to Roxynne Lannister,  youngest daughter of Lord Jason Lannister and Lady Rohanne Webber." 

Barbrey looked at Eddard, "I see Arya and Orys and ... I'm sorry. They are so much like Orys' parents... I ... "

Eddard interjects, "Orys asked me for her hand, Barbrey, whilst we were at Moat Caillin. He went five hundred miles out of his way to ask me."

Barbrey nods, sighing, "Most likely that means I have a grandson or granddaughter on the way.  Tell Orys they marry in Winterfell and if she is expecting, I want my youngest daughter staying in Winterfell until my grandchild is born. Perhaps you can summon the Lord Commander of the Night's Watch to let First Ranger Robert Baratheon come down from Shadow Tower as well to witness his son's wedding to a Stark. Orys will have to take the Stark name however."

Sansa interjected, "I don't think Orys will mind that as long as he's near his 'Dornish Wolf'."

Eddard paused a moment after a brief smile, "Roberts' now the Lord Commander of the Night's Watch at Castle Black since what I'm hearing incident at the Fist of the First Men. Lost 350 Black Brothers apparently to the Others"  Eddard shuddered seeming to look in Howland's direction. "Winter is truly coming if what I heard was true."

Barbrey nodded, "The Long Night. What the Old Gods told me about those many years back?"

Eddard nodded, "I've also received word from Lord Tormund of House Flint of the Mountains that Lord Commander Robert have brought three thousand wildlings south of the Wall to settle in the New Gift. I've directed Jon Blackfyre to do a ranging with Qhorin Halfhand North of the Wall with Spectre to verify what Robert's reported."

Barbrey nodded, "Gamall Goðarr fylgjagð mik! If it's the Others, the Long Night is upon us."

Eddard nodded,  smiling, "Aye, which is why Beron's betrothal is important as was Sansa's fostering with House Royce in the Vale and Artos fostering at Lannisport with Lord Gerion Lannister. When the Long Night comes we want all of Westeros to be as prepared as we direwolves."

The food had arrived and they were served by the serving wench. Howland noticed the serving wench seemed really nervous as she placed the bowls of stew down on the table along with the loaves of bread. Howland watched the wench oddly scamper away. He followed her briefly watching her proceed to douse her hand in heavy spirits before scrubbing her hand with aid from the kitchen staff. Howland panicked as that meant only one thing as he turned around walking back to the table area.

Howland saw Sansa suddenly grab her head as if in pain, shouting, "Lady! My wolf. They've...."  She was cut off by a wracking cough coming on as she began to bleed out her eyes, ears and nose, choking. 

Lady Barbrey was having the same happen to her as Eddard attempted to see what was wrong but he himself went catatonic for a while. "They've killed our direwolves," he said before choking to death himself bleeding out his eyesockets. Howland knew the signs, someone had paid the kitchen staff to dump the Strangler into their stew.

As Artos flopped over dead, Beron was gasping for his last breath. A larger man who hadn't eaten as much so far his death had not arrived yet. Howland saw about eight soldiers dressed in black armor with red trim decorated with golden trim. The style of their armor seemed odd in that it seemed more like the armor employed by Noble families from the Southern Coastal Westerlands than those from the Crownlands or the uniquely sleekly-taylored style of the Targaryen armor. This was notable with the oddly impractical helmets they were wearing, which limited vision and the lateral crest showed no useful function other than decoration and a place where an opponent could grip or hit to knock the helmet off the wearer's head.  Howland watched as the soldiers enterred and spread out followed by a young man dressed like a very high nobleman or possibly royalty.

The young man was relatively tall but skinny and fairely effeminate in his build. His face seemed to show some androgynous look, but it was hardly one that was appealling due to the permanent sneer on his face, as if it were his destiny in life to drain the joy out of the room. His hair was a very light golden-blonde almost white. He had emerald green eyes and a full pouty lips.  It was evident he taking mostly after his Lannister side save for the hair color.

"I see you haven't died yet, Beron," said the young man. "Well, I've given your twin sister a prolonged death as well. I've arranged for her to remain behind as well as the other two handmaidens from the North being sent for my aunt Daenerys. You have angered the dragon in me and I will..."

Beron coughed, "You are no dragon....You may be Targaryen but you are no dragon. Your brother Aerion....<cough>... he is a dragon. Your aunt Daenerys. She is a dragon.  Your bastard cousin Jon Blackfyre is a dragon. You.....<cough> .... are a pathetic worm not even close to being worth your namesake, Jaehaerys Targaryen. All you are is proof that that whore of the Queen had spread her legs for another Lannister before she got married to King Daeron."  Once he was finished he vomited up a bunch of black blood and fell dead.

Jaehaerys seemed angry that Beron got in the last word. Before he walked over to the now dead Eddard Stark and grabbed the Valyrian Steel Greatsword, Ice, barely able to lift it.  Jaehaerys got maybe to the end of the table before he heard a woman's voice saying in an accent which seemed the mixture of Rhoynish and Northern, "That sword does not belong to you. Put it down right now !"

The spectral observer Howland turned to see a woman dressed in light leather armor which was tailored for flexibility. Her jewelry was silver but was done in a very Rhoynish manner with multiple earrings as well as rings on her fingers and a chain connecting to her nose similar in style to Loreza Martell who he had seen at Casterly Rock in the previous timeshift of this greendream.  The girl however looked almost exactly like Lyanna Stark save for she was muscled like a Spearwife of the Free Folk or Shieldmaiden of Skagos. Jaehaerys merely motioned with his chin and his guards attacked the woman.

The warrior woman drew her longsword. Its blade shimmered in the light of the Inn with a rippled dark grey pattern, indicating Valyrian Steel. Very Old Varlyrian Steel.  The hilt itself was unique with the crossguard constructed of gold-tinted Valyrian steel which tapered to sharp poins at either end and had been twisted into a corkscrew shape. At the center of the crossguard on both sides was a circular ruby at the edge of the rainguard. The grip itself was black leather wrapped with exposed rings of the golden Valyrian steel hilt indicating the hilt was fashioned or machined out of one piece of Valyrian steel. The pommel was shaped like a dragon's head with rubies inset where the eyes would be.  Looking at the blade it seemed thinner than a normal longsword as if it had been fashioned for a woman. Howland realized that this woman held Dark Sister in her hands and was about to use it.

The woman proceeded to dispatched the eight soldiers as they attacked her. Howland noticed that the woman fought faster than anyone he'd seen, including Eddard Stark  whom he had seen defeat a similar group of opponents when they first met.  Howland noticed this as everything seemed to slow to a crawl as he observed from his spectral point of view as a greenseer.  The woman dodged the first attacker's thrust ducking and sliding under the attacker as her lateral swing removed amputated the first attacker's leg above the kneecap. The woman was precise as well as the sword slice was exactly placed at a gap between the cuisse and poleyn of the man's right leg.  The second attacker's legs were swept out from under him in the same motion by a kick from the woman's leg and he was stabbed through throat just above the gorget as she quickly stood up. 

She sliced off the arm and then head of the lighter armored third attacker who was in the middle of raising a crossbow to shoot her. Quickly picking up the loaded crossbow with her non sword arm, she shot the fourth through the throat at the vulnerable gap exposing the lower face and upper neck above the gorget by the style of their armor. The bolt went through the fourth attacker,  spraying blood as it lost some momentum but had enough force still to go through the left upper leg of the fifth attacker.

Dropping the crossbow immediately, the woman leapt over the fifth attacker knocking off his helmet by hitting the lateral crest on the top stabbing a sixth next to him through the throat and then spinning to behead the fifth , no helmless attacker. The seventh and eighth were quickly dispatched as the woman stabbed the seventh under the arm quickly as he lunged at her with his mace. This caused him to drop his mace which she retrieved as she rolled around the seventh's back swinging the mace to knock the eigthth's helmet forward and off stunning the eighth at the same time. The seventh was still bent down and was smashed the back of the seventh's head with the mace, utilizing the momentum of her spin.  The seventh's helmet rung like a bell as it fell from his head as he got up. At this time, still in the spin, she beheaded the helmless eighth following with a kick on the finishing spin to the seventh.  She finished off the seventh with a downward slice with Dark Sister finishing him off. 

This all took place within a matter of seconds as Howland observed time seem to resume its normal flow. The woman placed the sword back in its scabbard attached to the belt at her side.

"I am Arya of House Stark and I have one question for you," said the woman. "Why is my entire family lying dead showing symptoms of being poisoned with the Strangler and what are you doing with my Father's sword in your hands?"

Jaehaerys merely stood there speechless,  mainly out of shock and fear, as another woman enterred the inn. Howland saw she looked almost like how he remembered his Jyanna complete with the brunette curls. She was dressed much like he was with the lizardlion leather armor and the waterproofed cloak, armed with a trident-tipped spear.  "Arya, I took care of the outliers.  I think we sh___"

Meera stopped speaking as she saw Arya staring at the "Give me one reason why I shouldn't kill your right now you, Prince Jaehaerys."

"Because I am the Crown Prince," he said proudly, obviously wavering in his voice.

"Hand me my family's ancestral sword," said Arya.

"How about you hand me mine," said Jaehaerys flippantly. "That's obviously Dark Sister."

"Given to me by Princess Rhaenys Targaryen, daughter of the late Queen Elia Nymeros-Martell Targaryen and the late King Rhaegar Targaryen, as a reward for my service of the Nymeros-Martells several times over, as well as my service of providing protection for her daughter, Nymeria."  Arya stated coldly. "You on the other hand have not done anything to earn having another House's heirloom sword given to you, even in trust, let alone one from your own House." 

Meera circled around the other side of Jaehaerys, collapsing the trident-spear to a more portable form and putting it in her back-scabbard, as Howland noticed Arya grab an oil lamp from the table in her gloved hand.

Arya Stark stated coldly towards Jaehaerys, "En route from Sunspear, I stopped by Dragonstone before catching heading ashore to Maidenpool a sennight ago. Princess Daenerys was wondering why she had received no word from her handmaidens until the day I arrived. An odd note from her goodsister Queen Cersei indicating that the ladies had changed their minds and decided to stay head back North with the family. I received a message from King's Landing from Ellaria Sand a few days later regarding something she and Oberyn discovered in one of the Mockingbird's brothels."

Arya Stark gripped the edge of the wall near the bar to steady herself, as her voice seemed to take on the guttural growl of an angered wolf. Howland noted she was desperately trying to control her anger, "Apparently the bodies of two whores were discovered in the room which was to be lent to them for the Red Viper and his paramour. When my Dornish friends discovered who these apparent whores were they immediately messaged me and arranged for the bodies to be taken to Sunspear.  Prince Oberyn Martell had talked to one of the madams who had a very interesting story to tell about someone who had a thing for physically torturing people and humiliating them as well. Apparently a very wealthy young client brought his own whores in, very drugged on a pinch of Swwetsleep, and mounted on the bedposts whilst he shot at them with his crossbow. Prince Oberyn remember both of their faces from when he was in Winterfell to take me to Sunspear for my fostering.  The madam seemed shaken and did not want to be beheaded for treason if she said who the client was."

Arya calmly growled out, "I'm guessing you've moved from the vivisection of his brother's cat and torturing animals to physically torturing people include very highborn women of noble Houses?"

Jaehaerys blurted out, "You insolent treasonous...."

Arya Stark said in a growling tone, "It's not treason if it is true..."

Jaehaerys scoffed, "There are no witnesses who will testify against me."

"Perhaps, perhaps not," Arya Stark looked at Jeahaerys,

"Now since it's just us in here," said Arya Stark. "Let's cut the mummery and speak honestly: House Stark knows too much damaging information to be left anything, but isolated in the North. Beron's marriage to Margaery Tyrell was a threat, as it would ally the North and the Reach.  House Stark has very close alliances with every realm on this continent, with the exception of what's left of the traditional Ironborn.  I also know that there is growing pressure for King Daeron to name your brother rather than yourself as his successor, due to frankly him being viewed along with his bride Princess Daenerys, as what Westeros is looking for in the next King and Queen of the realm. And more importantly, he's the only legitimate son of King Daeron and your mother."

Jaehaerys blurted, "Wait what?"

Arya Stark drummed her gloved fingers on the glass of the oil lamp in her hand. "Meera, Lord Brynden Tully should be a league south of here en route with his men towards our location in his route from Harrenhal to the Vale. Run as quick as you can to fetch them so we may have my family's bones as well as the bodires of our direwolves transported  back to Winterfell for burial. I'd like him here before we have forces from the Crown loyal to Lord Tywin Lannister arriving."

"I'm off," said the young crannogwoman who darted out of the Inn. Tempted as he was to follow his own future daughter, Howland remained to observe.

Arya Stark stated, "We stand on the knife's edge of a very costly and bloody war that will tear the Seven Kingdoms apart or a continuance of the peace and prosperity we've had since King Daeron took the Iron Throne.  If your grandfather wishes  the realm to continue on the latter path: You should either be executed by the Crown or take the Black for your crimes against House Stark and House Bolton. Aerion should become the Crown Prince."

Jaehaerys interrupted, "Out of the question. You do not dictate the line of succession for the Crown."

Arya Stark stated, "I see but you seem to forget that the Crown was actually Targaryen to begin with."

Lord Tywin became angered, "And what praytell do you mean by that?  I am a Targaryen."

Arya Stark stated, "Well since you're a Targaryen apparently, educate me on what the hallmarks of being the Blood of Old Valyria?"

Jaehaerys stated, "Well mainly our hair is very light silver or very light gold."

Arya Stark shook her head, "House Dayne has members who have the same features and they are more First Men than the blood of Valyria. Additionally my cousin Jon Blackfyre and my dearest friend Princes Rhaenys Nymeros-Martell Targaryen have very dark hair but they are definitely Valyrian in their lineage."  She paused a moment, "One sure sign of being from House Targaryen and having the Blood of Old Valyria is the affinity for dragons. You've noticed how your father heard one egg call to him as did your younger brother Aerion, as well as your siblings Vaella and Rhaenesa and aunt Daenerys. Similarly my cousin Jon was able to find his. But .... perhaps you haven't found yours quite yet."

Jaehaerys responded nervously, "Yes. That's it. I must find mine."

Arya chuckled darkly, "Even if for some odd reason you did, you'd never survive the method to hatch the dragon. There's a reason House Targaryen's words are 'Fire and Blood' given those are the two elements needed for hatching dragons. My cousin Jon hatched Spectre accidentally after a clumsy moment after showing his half-brother Orys his dragon-egg cutting his hand on an unfinished blade before tripping into the uncovered smelting pit in Orys' own armory. It was quite a sight seeing Jon crawl stark naked out of the pit with this little white dragon with crimson red eyes and red mottling like a Weirwood tree clinging affectionately to his shoulder."

Jaehaerys grew nervous as Arya said, "You're not unburnt. In fact, King Daeron is not even your father. My guess is possibly your father is one of your Lannister 'uncles'. Lord Jaime Lannister, Warden of the West, or the late Lord Tygett Lannister come to mind as the most likely candidates."

Jaehaerys said, "That's impossible!"  Howland could tell, despite his rather cruel nature, Jaehaerys seemed to truly believe he was a legitimate Targaryen.

Arya Stark seemed to realized this, "I think your mother and perhaps your grandfather, the Lord Hand, were backing you on this deed you just committed. You don't strike me as someone smart enough to orchestrate something like this operation fully. "

"My mother was right. Those who aren't us are against us. We took care of my meddling Grandmother. I need to get rid of my brother Aerion who seeks to usurp my ... " retorted Jaehaerys. Arya's eyes narrowed held the oil lamp with one hand as she pulled Jaehaerys close to her by his left hand.

Arya then forced his uncovered hand on to the glass. Howland saw the smoke rising and smelled the stench of burning flesh from the oil lamp before Arya let go. Jaehaerys pulled his hand away screaming in pain, cradling the injury as he backed away from Arya in fear.  Arya, oil lamp still in hand, ran after Jaehaerys following him as he exited the Inn.

Arya was right behind him as they headed outside. She laid the oil lamp near the door as she gave chase. Arya had seen Meera arriving with Ser Brynden Tully and his men.  Ser Brynden was a relatively imposing man of the same rough age with deep blue eyes with a white hair but was clean shaven, his face is craggy and windburnt making his features lined and weathered.  The man had a hard look to him as if he'd seen many a battle. He wore black leather scale armor with a black cloak fastened by a clasp in the shape of a trout painted black on a blue and red background.  He hopped off the horse and approached Arya as she knocked Jaehaerys in the head with her fist, knocking him out cold. She then removed Jaerhaerys' own sword belt and used such to fasten his arms behind his back as a prisoner.

"I'm guessing the North going to war with the Crown?" said the Blackfish, as he accepted

"Most likely," said Arya Stark. "However, I have a feeling this may be more complicated. Someone isn't exactly a Targaryen."  Arya showed Brynden the burn mark on Jaehaerys' hand. "He's more Lannister than Gerion. I'm guessing either the Queen's twin brother or her Uncle Tygett is the father. He's got backing for this not to be revealed however. I think the Queen and the Hand may not exactly be working for the benefit of the Crown or House Targaryen for that matter, given this bastard here just implicated his mother with Rhaella's apparent sudden illness."

The Blackfish grumbled, "If that's the case we best get moving quickly."  Arya handed Ser Brynden House Stark's heirloom sword as he and his men quickly began going about the task ordered. They had departed as soon as they had loaded up several wagons and began to move out.  Ser Brynden was about to depart  I've had my men send a raven to Lord Denys. We'll head to Gulltown then White Harbor with your family's bones and the bodies of the direwolves." 

Ser Brynden looked at ice for a moment then grabbed one of his men. Howland watched him switch Ice out with the greatsword in his man's scabbard then give him some orders to go straight up the Kingsroad to Moat Caillin and deliver the sword to Lord Theon Stark.  No sooner did Ser Brynden's man disappear from sight as well as the wagons and his troops bound for the Vale, did Lord Tywin Lannister arrive with rather large force.

Arya looked at Ser Brynden as the final wagon was being loaded with a couple of the remaining direwolves.  Lord Tywin Lannister was helped off his horse by a squire. At this time, Arya had returned to fetch a candle from the Inn and the oil lamp during this time and held it in her gloved hands, taking her place beside the bound and kneeling Crown Prince.  Howland noticed extinguished the oil lamp and removed the chimney and wick leaving just the jar full of oil at the bottom.

"He's not going to let us live," said Ser Brynden Tully.

Arya smirked as she looked towards the a dour faced man wearing plate armor with the stag sigil of House Tarly, "No Lord Tywin won't. However, you're an acting Lord Regent. Lord Tywin wouldn't dare do anything right away."

Lord Tywin arrived on his horse and stepped forward. "Ser Brynden Tully, You will surrender that sword to us as well as that Stark girl for treason against the crown."  Ser Brynden complied and set the Greatsword down in front of him.

Arya then said to the Blackfish, "Perhaps I was wrong."

As Lord Tywin inspected the sword, his anger grew. "Where is it?"  The Old lion motioned for a few of his men to begin attacking Ser Brynden and beating him to the ground.

Arya interrupted, "If you're looking for my family's ancestral sword, I'd say halfway to Moat Caillin by now on a swift horse as are my family's bodies en route to the Gates of the Moon then Gulltown to head to White Harbor for burial in the Family Crypts at Winterfell. Tell me Lord Lannister are you here to try your grandson for the murder of a Lord Paramount and his family?  You are aware he has also broken the alliance between the Lord Paramount of the North and the Lord Paramount of the Reach by killing Beron Stark. Additionally, in case you've forgotten, you are aware of the agreement signed by Daeron and my Father, the son or daughter of Beron Stark and Margaery Tyrell will be wed to the son or daughter of Aerion and Daenerys Targaryen thereby fulfilling the Pact of Ice and Fire?"

Lord Tywin scoffed, "Ah that little agreement. Well too bad that won't be met. The Crown will be a Lannister Dynasty if I have anything to say about it."

Arya Stark nodded, "Well if it's with this little shit, I doubt it. Whose son is he anyways?  Tygett?"

Tywin's eyes narrowed. Howland could see Arya hit a nerve. He statied vehemently with the grinding of his teeth, "As far as the realm is concerned, he is King Daeron Targaryen's trueborn son."

Arya sighed, "Okay. Well let's test that theory of yours then."  She calmly pulled the jar flipped a lever on the Oil Lamp before turning it upside down over Jaehaerys, drenching the Crown Prince's head, then igniting it with a candle as Jaehaerys began to scream as the flames quickly overtook his body, lighting the clothes of his aflame. The fancy dyes in his tunic and trousers themselves were flammable as well adding more fuel to the fire until there was nothing but a human shaped bonfire screaming. Howland observed as Arya used this opportunity to escape into the forest as all of Tywin's soldiers and Tywin were watching Jaehaerys burn to death in front of them.

Howland felt the pull of the greensight sending him elsewhere and elsewhen, most likely further into the future.

DRAGONPIT, KING'S LANDING, THE CROWNLANDS
Mid 301AC

Howland found himself in the middle of some ruins of what may have been a massive building, now missing its roof. As he looked around he could see a tall castle which appeared like the Red Keep in the distance towards the sea on the horizon. As the wind shifted he could smell a pungent odor common to cities without insuffiicient sewage systems. This had   He found himself standing next to what appeared to be one of several shaded pavilions constructed. He found himself near a pavilion with several nobles seated together. He noticed two particular banners there, the sun and spear of House Martell, the rose of House Tyrell, and the lion of House Lannister.

Seated behind the House Martell banner, Howland noticed a beautiful woman dressed much like Loreza Martell whom he had seen earlier. Her features were similar but her eyes however were a deep violet. On her knee was a miniature toddler version of herself.  Another woman of similar coloring and features sat to her right next to a slender dark-haired olive-skinned man with a lined face with sharp features and a relatively dour expression. That must be Rhaenys Targaryen with the violet eyes and her daughter Nymeria, thought Howland. Assuming that is Oberyn Nymeros-Martell and his paramour next to him.

Behind the House Tyrell banner was seated a reservedly but finely dressed man with brown curly hair and a short well-groomed beard and thoughtful brown eyes. His left leg was housed in a wooden brace and he had a finely crafted cane next to him.  He was seated between a small elderly woman who seemed very finely dressed and a very beautiful woman with soft curly hair and big brown eyes. The beautiful woman wore an odd pendant around her neck on a leather cord, the pendant shaped like the direwolf sigil of House Stark. She seemed to have a very sad face as she clasped the pendant in her hands. That must be Margaery Tyrell, Howland thought. She must have truly loved Beron. Assuming that is her eldest brother Willas and her grandmother Olenna.

Seated next to them behind the Lannister banner were two gentleman of Lannister descent. One looked very much like Lord Tywin Lannister except with a much kinder expression and a closely cropped full head of hair and beard. Next to him was a more casually dressed older man who seemed to have the Lannister looks but a very jovial and friendly expression. The older man seemed to have more thoughtful expression on his face as if he was more of an intellectual than a warrior. Howland listened to the first man speak, "I see father's let his fucking pride and ambition turn the Seven Kingdoms to shit. Ever since she got away with murdering Melara Heatherspoon, it's been downhill, Gerion."

The older man turned to him, "Lord Jaime, my suggestion would be to await the outcome of what is to happen before we begin worrying too much. Lord Theon Stark has taken over Winterfell as Castellan currently as his sons have manned all the Stark holdfasts. He's more of a level head and has instructed the North to close itself off and is in a holding pattern. With Rhaella on death's door, things may change once Princess Daenerys comes out of mourning. Everyone knows Jaehaerys killed Lysara Stark and Myranda Bolton. And he bragged after the tourney feast how he was going to kill all the Starks. No one would fault Arya Stark for rightfully seeking vengeance and no one except Cersei and Tywin will be hurt by Arya going free after her trial by combat. The entire realm will have a sigh of relief as Aerion takes his place as Crown Prince and eventually becomes King with Daenerys as his Queen."

Lord Jaime looked at his uncle, "Cersei will never let Lady Arya go after killling her little Jaehaerys, justified or not.  Of course, I don't think it's sunk in that Arya's method of avenging her family in confronting Jaehaerys and killing him in the manner she did.  Arya essentially proved Jaehaerys was a bastard by burning him alive."

Gerion shrugged, "I'm surprised King Daeron hasn't dismissed your sister, given that. However, only reason Lady Arya is still alive is she was able to escape and was ultimately captured in  the Stormlands en route back to Dorne by Lord Stannis Baratheon, the Master of Laws. I think my brother shit himself when the dour faced Stormlord quoted several legal texts to him regarding the need for a proper trial. Kind of hard however to argue guilt when she didn't really kill a prince since the method of killing him proved Jaehaerys wasn't really Daeron's son. "

Lord Jaime looked at Gerion, "Oh your dear brother, my father, took care of that. The official story is Arya Stark mutilated him with her sword and kept stabbing and slicing to the point where he was an unrecognizable pulp.  Before the trial, very few people have the knowledge that Arya Stark set him on fire and watched as he burned to death outside the Inn at the Crossroads before making her escape. Besided King Daeron hasn't said a word either. Doubtful he will. "

Lord Jaime Lannister chuckled darkly, "He may be beginning to turn on my father and sister, very soon. After Vidar Tarraenos disappaeared and Queen Rhaella exiled herself to Dragonstone, who was there to influence him? And keep in mind, he was only three and ten namedays when this happened, becoming King a year later. And Rhaella's sudden recent illness, after reminding Daeron of the Pact of Ice and Fire between House Stark and House Targaryen?"

Gerion turned back to his nephew , "I'm suspecting that is starting to change, I am not looking forward to the fallout that happens once Daeron snaps. We're already dealing with keeping contained the chaos which erupted on our doorstep in the Riverlands. That realm pulled itself apart once to your father killed Brynden Tully because he wanted Ice as a symbol of him defeating the Starks.  That sword is how owned by Lord Theon Stark."

Lord Jaime smirked, "He killed Ser Brynden because Ser Brynden knew that was one of the things he was after."

Gerion frowned, "As if I hadn't brought Brightroar and four other Lannister heirloom Valyrian Swords back from my Journey to the Basilisk Isles."

Lord Jaime sighed continuing, "The Reach and Dorne aren't going to lift a finger for the Crown. At least not the current Crown. The Vale is staying out of it for now,   I think they're waiting out Aerion's official succession as Crown Prince. They don't trust Father obviously after some raven he sent them. The Crown under Tywin currently only has Lord Stannis and the Stormlands, backing them and then only because he's the sort of Lord whose only motivation is his as Master of Laws, but then again he'll only go so far. Myself, I will not commit my people eagerly to a war for my sister's indiscretions with my uncle Tygett or my father's overblown pride."

Howland watched as the royal party enterred their pavilion, the small council along with the King and Queen.  Howland watched as the several nobles came out including one plump bald man wearing a rich light golden-hued damask robe. Lord Tywin was the last to arrive as an aging maester wearing grey robes and large maester's chain around his neck made his way out to the middle of the arena. Howland watched as he saw King Daeron arrive with presumably the Queen beside him. 

The Queen herself arrived wearing a gown cut in a more Westerlands-style than Valyrian, but in her husband's house colors of black with red accents. Gold thread seemed to have been woven through the fabric such that it had gained a shimmering look. The cloak she was wearing was greyish white and seemed to be rather long as far as the cut. Howland just realized that it was direwolf fur, looking much like the color of fur of Cregan, Eddard's bonded direwolf.  The cloak was well tailored however with a golden clasp which was shaped like the Lannister Lion. The King, Queen, Lord Tywin and the rest of the small council took their seats.

Howland then saw two Targaryen soldiers, escorting Arya Stark, merely clad in very light black leather armor and unarmed. She was bound at the wrist with manacles which were removed when she reached the spot they wanted her in. They were next to a table which had apparently various weapons. Howland saw Arya sneer before picking up what appeared to be two short swords.

Howland heard Willas Tyrell say, "They're making her fight with tourney swords?"

Oberyn Martell looked at Willas and stated, "The mistake was giving her any weapon at all, Lord Tyrell. I heard she killed all but five of Jaehaerys' personal guard before setting that little haraamzaadeh on fire. " 

The elderly lady from the Reach spoke up, "The mistake was Lord Tywin not taking Lord Eddard's advice and telling Lord Tywin within earshot of the Queen that he knew Jaehaerys was not a legitimate Targaryen and should be removed from the line of succession."

Lord Willas Tyrell looked at the elderly lady, "For once I see things further than my beloved grandmother. Lord Tywin already knew. He was counting. He was pressing for Lannister control of the Crown and a War with the Starks at both House Stark and House Targaryen's expense. Beron's engagement to Margaery would mean their child would be wed to the child of Aerion and Daenerys. Given Aerion would most likely end up as King, Tywin Lannister's influence on the Crown would be limited to Cersei as an aging Queen Dowager and his duties as Hand until such time as Aerion becomes King. Aerion would  most likely decide perhaps on another Hand, most likely Lord Denys Arryn whom he had fostered under and looked to as a second father. Lord Tywin needed to keep Jaehaerys in the line of succession and eliminate Aerion actually.  The arrival of Dragons with House Targaryen however had put a stop to that, so he needed to eliminate House Stark."

Oberyn seemed to pause for a moment in thought, as Arya's opponents walked into the arena, "This must be the Queen's idea, pitting Arya against her daughters." Arya paused as well and put down the short swords, opting instead for no weapons at all since her only other choice seemed to be a blunted tourney longsword on the table and a small wooden staff. 

Clad in very tailored and fitted very high quality castle-forged steel plate armor pieces over steel and leather ringmail armor were two very similar looking women with long silver hair. One had a circlet in her hair and held a glaiv. The other had her hair in a single braid with no headpiece and had Dark Sister drawn. Behind the women flew in two dragons, around the size of destriers: One dark burgundy with black flecks in its scales, the other silver with a greenish marbling pattern.

Howland noticed Oberyn saying to the lady sitting next to him, "The princess carrying Rhaenys' sword picked an unlucky name for her dragon. The Dornish killed that dragon at your father's keep with a bolt from a scorpion, Ellaria, my paramour."

The Maester began speaking, "In the sight of gods and men, we gather to ascertain the guilt or innocence of this woman, Arya Stark, in a trial by combat with her opponents representing the crown. May the Mother grant them mercy, May the Father give them such justice as they deserve, and may the Warrior guide the hand of our champions." 

Queen Cersei motioned toward the old Maester to move things forward and he left the field as Arya walked calmly towards the two women silently. Howland noticed Arya beegan to veer towards the one woman carrying Dark Sister. Howland noticed Oberyn Martell laughing oddly as Arya Stark began to pick up the pace in closing ground with the woman armed with a sword. He caught why Oberyn was oddly mirthful as Rhaenys seemed to see something as well and smiled. Howland saw Arya palming something in her hand. 

In a rapid blur, Arya charged the woman who began to swing. Arya was too close to the woman however at this point for the swing to hit Arya anywhere but the hilt on her back. The woman however fell forward choking with blood gushing from her neck as Arya had buried a small punch dagger in her opponent's throat. Arya ripped the dagger sideways as she continued a rolling motion over her falling opponent. Arya then grabbed Dark Sister from the falling woman's hands and was able to slice clean through the silver dragon's neck, effectively beheading it. 

The other woman was in shock and yelled "Rhaenesa! No!" as Arya took the sword to remove the already dead Rhaenesa's head and hold it up for everyone to see.  There was an eerie silence as Howland saw the Queen's face go three shades paler as she was whispering something to herself. Howland had moved his spectral form around the royal seating area whilst observing the trial-by-combat and heard Cersei whispering: "One of your children will die by fire, the other will lose her head while both sisters' dragons will be dead..."

Howland pondered this for a moment as he saw Arya moving towards the other woman and her dragon. Howland noticed Cersei looking to Daeron, "Save our remaining daughter, Daeron."

Daeron looked at her, coldly, "I can't stop a trial by combat, Cersei. You had insisted on Rhaenesa and Vaella facing Arya Stark. Your father wanted to put her up against his attack dog, Gregor Clegane, but you interfered."  Daeron paused, "Vaella was always the better fighter and so she may survive. If she's smart, she'll yield."

Cersei looked at Daeron angered, "Your daughter just died at the hands of that savage and before that your son was set on fire by ... "

Daeron looked gravely at Cersei, "Your son, you cuckolding whore. A dragon does not burn. If Jaehaerys was legitimately and truly my son, he would have only lost his dignity as his clothes burned."  Howland noticed by the look on Lord Tywin's face he had overheard this exchange and had shifted in his seat.  Daeron continued, "You will remain silent in Maegor's Holdfast after this. Let us hope we're not at war after this ends, as I do not look forward to facing Lord Theon Stark along with my two cousins on the other end of the battlefield, backed by the entirety of the Northern forces. The thing you and your father failed to realize is they have a Dragon too."

They turned their attention back to the battlefield. Vaella seemed to fare slightly better against Arya being able to block a few hits with her glaive. The glaive was taking a beating however. Not Valyrian steel in its construction but a very hight quality castle forged steel throughout. There were several nicks in the steel staff as well as the glaive's blade from where Dark Sister made contact. Vaella finally fell backwards as Arya leapt in for the kill, but Vaella yelled "Dracarys!" as her dragon unleashed dragonfire over the both of them.

Arya tumbled and rolled away mid leap rapidly putting out the flames which engulfed her in the sandy diry, but still finding herself burned quite badly. Vaella being unburnt did not feel any ill effects but was nevertheless knocked off her feet by Arya. Arya then charged the dragon and the dragon shot dragonfire at her again. Arya was able duck under the flame and slid under the dragon's head stabbing upward through the lower jaw then twisting. The burgundy dragon twitched for a moment and fell over. Arya picked herself up off the ground, skin charred on the right side of her body and her armor halfway ruined. The severly wounded Arya faced Vaella, determined to win the trial.

Vaella took a swipe at Arya with the Glaive dodging it and throwing a quick jab with her left fist to Vaella's face, breaking her nose. Vaella dropped the glaive as he natural reaction was to reach for her face as she stagggered back. Arya followed up with a kick to Vaella's right knee, shattering it, causing Vaella to fall backwards to the ground. After a couple of swift kicks to Vaella's stomach to further incapacitate her opponent, Arya walked over to pick up the battered glaive to use for the kill.

Arya's injuries however were severe and were taking their toll as she held the glaive to Vaella's neck, stating in a raspy voice, "Dārilaros Vaella. Obūljarion.  Ivestragon iksan mijegon qringaomnon, se kesan ivestragī ao glaesagon."  Vaella hesitated a moment but Arya pressed and it was obvious Vaella got the message.

"I yield!  Lady Arya of House Stark is innocent. I ... " shouted Vaella.

Arya relaxed for a moment, letting out a breath of relief, "Your grace, would you mind having the Maester tend to ... "  Arya's suddenly stopped speaking, as eight crossbow bolt hit her square in her relatively unarmored chest. Arya pulled the glaive away and dropped it to the side, walking slowly towards the pavilion holding the Royals. Howland noticed that the crossbow bolts came from several men in armor similar to those of the soldiers he saw Arya dispatch at the inn of the crossroads, where they were wearing Targaryen colors but had Lannister sigils prominently displayed.  They were evidently the Queensguard.

Arya Stark seemed to waver in her stance for a moment before she staggered towards the Royal Pavilion looking directly at Lord Tywin, "The other half of my soul will come for vengeance. And his younger brother will bathe your lands in dragonfire if you attack us. Do not come North of the Neck if you value your lives."  She coughed for a minute as it was hard to breathe let alone speak due to one of the crossbow bolts puncturing her left lung, "Your legacy was always intact with Lord Jaime and your brother Gerion. It's a shame you could not see that. I go to see my family and the Old Gods now. Return my bones to Winterfell and my sword to its true owner, Princess Rhaenys Targaryen, in Dorne." Arya looked pointedly at Cersei Lannister, glancing briefly to King Daeron and Lord Tywin, "Orys will be coming for your heads when he finds out you've killed his child as well."

Howland saw Arya slump to her knees and fall over dead. Unseen to everyone but himself, he saw Arya's soul leave her body into the spectral realm, along with a smaller soul of a child. The spectral soul of Arya, with the sould of the child in her arms, floated towards Howland and touched his cheek briefly as he felt a thought in his head from the soul, Greenseer who was friend to my mother and father: if you are from the past, please do what you can to ensure this is not my family's fate. 

Howland turned briefly, as he heard Daeron state to Tywin, "Your daughter has drawn us into a bloody war and a possible rebellion with that order she just gave to her Queensguard. She is to be confined to her chambers in Maegor's holdfast. We will need to convene the small council immediately." Daeron motioned to the pavilions which were rapidly emptying, "The Lords and Ladies of the Realm have already scattered back to their manses to pack to leave the capital. "

Howland felt the pull of the shift as he saw Arya's soul along with that of the unnamed child move rapidly away from him, then he felt the familiar unease as he was pulled elsewhere and elsewhen.

RED KEEP, KING'S LANDING
Early 305AC

Howland found himself inside a castle. The walls seemed to be made of Red Sandstone, and he seemed to be on a set of stairs. He felt he was high in the air. As he looked out a nearby small window he could see several towers around an assuming he was in one of the taller ones.

Howland looked out the window and could see Maegor's holdfast. He heard a frightened woman's voice faintly on the wind from the direction of a high balcony in that structure. The voice was saying, "One of your children will die by fire, the other will lose her head while both dragons will be dead, the third will fall from a great height to be impaled upon a spire, whilst the fourth will have a sorrowful wolf be his cause of death, whilst his true love frozen in ice will haunt the place of their regret. Before the death of the fourth, the blade of the drowned held by the lēkia will remove your head from your body as a price for the death of the valonqar mother and child."  There was a pause for a moment then he heard, "So the little wolf bitch was right ..." followed by a faint thud.  The voice sounded similar to the Queen.

Howland heard some other voices from above, slightly louder,  and proceeded towards them.

The voices were coming from a room and he saw several people seated. He saw a weary Lord Tywin Lannister seated at the head along with King Daeron, who seemed to have a scar on his face, and on further inspection was missing his right leg below the knee, instead having an ornately designed prosthetic. The Maester at the table seemed to be a younger man than the one seen previously  - a stern looking man clean shaven with a short practical head of greying hair.

Next to the Maester was one Lord who looked like the classic Baratheon with blue eyes and black hair and seemed to be dressed in rather oddly fine fabrics given his gold and black velvet doublet and rather fancy tunic and trousers.

Beside that Lord were two silver haired young people. The man seemed to be the spitting image of Daeron but seemed to have a gentler jovial face. Howland noticed Dark Sister in his sword belt.  Next to the man was a woman who looked very much like young Rhaella but seemed to be  abit shorter and had a more determined look on her face.  Howland was guessing these might be Aerion and Daenerys Targaryen.

King Daeron stated, "So nothing from the North then...no ultimatum, no communication, nothing...."

The Maester spoke, "Your Grace, I had written your Lord Hand's second son who is Maester to the Lord of Rillstone and we've heard nothing back. In fact the ravens were never even returned.  I had received a raven from Lord Patrek Mallister indicating that he's seen nothing as far North as Sea Dragon's Point. The military garrison at Grey Harbor is active but the stories from their indicate...."

Lord Tywin Lannister looked at the Maester impatiently, "Well out with it Grandmaester Adric!"

"They indicate that the North had come under attack by another enemy to the North and has been for all intents and purposes devastated. That combined with the extremely cold weather has rendered most of the North fairly hostile to begin with to any troops not used to the weather."

Lord Tywin Lannister made some assumptions, Howland surmised, as Tywin spoke, "So the wildlings united enough to overrun the Night's watch and have essentially laid waste to what was left of the North during this rather cold Winter.  Perhaps we should organize an expedition when the weather lets up to have whomever is left or whichever wildlings have taken over the North to bend the knee."

King Daeron nodded, "I am cautious however regarding venturing North. We've lost two dragons and a rider, my daughter Vaella, not to mention my leg in this ongoing war, Lord Tywin. Ignoring that Blackfyre bastard and that huge white dragon of his and those nasty Dornish-style ballistas atop Moat Caillin and every castle north of the Neck, the weather is the hidden enemy we'll be fighting as well.  Call me skeptical but I'd like to frankly wait until spring on this one."

The Lord sitting next to the Maester spoke up, "The Kingsroad from what I've heard is fairly impassible once you get North of the Trident. I've received ravens from Seagard and from Gulltown that the seas near the shores are frozen around White Harbor and Rillstone and most of the inner end of the Saltspear in the North is a big flat icefield.  I'd second his Grace's recommendation to await the arrival of Spring, the weather will kill at best half of any force during the journey due to the weather. "  The Lord added, "Given that we've not heard from my brother the Lord Commander of the Night's Watch in almost a year with his last missive being from what I heard was a desparate plea for needed supplies and men."

Lord Tywin grumbled., "Lord Renly, I've lost three grandchildren to those bloody Starks. I will not let my vengeance...."

King Daeron countered, "Just shut it, Lannister. I've had enough of this. I've lost half my army and almost the entirety of the our navy to this war started by my wife and her bastard son."

Lord Tywin looked shocked into speechlessness as Daeron had dared speak against him, "I've lost Rhaenesa to my wife's pride and Vaella in the midst of the war started for that very same pride, her second dragon Terrax impaled by one of those infernal siege machines Theon Stark mounted atop Moat Caillin. Killed the dragon but she survived only long enough to fall and become impaled like a rabbit on a skewer on the iron spikes on Moat Caillin's south gate.  They fucking left her body up there to rote as a warning to anyone who enters the North."  Daeron paused subduing his anger, " I will however shed no tears for that cruel bastard fathered by your late brother Tygett, conceived two moons before my wedding night to your daughter Cersei and passed off as my own son."  King Daeron paused, "Lord Varys let me know quite a bit before you had him killed Lord Tywin, such as ....'

Loud thumps were heard beyond the doors of the chamber in which they were currently interrupting the current conversation as the doors smashed open, revealing an uncharacteristic darkness beyond. One guard went flying back out of the darkness, bloodied and broken, landing near Grandmaester Adric who was nearest the door.  Howland watched the scene unfold as there were sounds of combat going on in the background and additional thuds along with a great growl of a very large man.

At this point, Prince Aerion Targaryen had leapt to his feet as had Lord Renly Baratheon. Both were readying their weapons, undoing the fastening loop on the scabbards holding their swords from slipping out. It was at this time when a giant of a man lumbered awkwardly into the room.  The giant man was easily eight feet tall and clad in thick grey steel plate armor which had seen many a battle. There were what appeared to be several fresh dents and scoring in addition to the damaged helm which fell to the floor as it dropped from his left hand. His right hand still held the hilt of a huge greatsword which itself seemed to be pitted and notched as if it had just been through

"Lord Tywin, " said the giant man in a booming voice. "I have failed..."  The giant man's voice was cut off he stood still. Howland could tell the light had left from the giant's eyes as a straight red line dripping slightly with blood formed across his face from above his right ear to the lower corner of his left cheek. The giant man's body fell down one way as his head above the bisecting line fell the other.

Entering the room from behind the giant was a very muscular and tall man with short black hair and bright blue eyes. He had a furious expression on his face but featurewise Howland noticed he seemed to look very similar to Lord Renly Baratheon who was in the room with him.  The newcomer was wielding a hand-and-a-half sword as if it were a one handed longsword, the sword itself was obviously Valyrian steel due to the dark shade of the metal and the rippled pattern to the blade. Oddly it seemed ot have a slight dark crimson tint to the dark grey metal of the blade.   The man had two crossbow bolts in his upper left shoulder and near the left side of the small of his back. There was a third bolt stuck in his left forearm rendering it relatively useless.

The man threw something threw the air which landed on the table right about the time he lunged forward kicking the Grandmaester out of the way to get to Lord Tywin Lannister.  As the Old Lion was sliced diagonally through the chest and then beheaded in two rapid lateral slices from the man's sword, the pieces of his body slumping off the chair to the floor, the thrown object landed on the table and rolled to a stop in front of the seat where Daeron was sitting. It was the bloodied head of Queen Cersei.

Daeron turned pale as Howland surmised he had remembered Arya Stark's last words to Queen Cersei before her death : "Orys will be coming for your head when he finds out you've killed his child as well."   

Oddly Orys Storm made no moves towards Aerion and Renly who already had their swords out in a defensive stance. Howland watched Orys turn towards them after lowering the Valyrian Steel sword. Howland was able to get a good look at it. It did look very much like Red Rain, the ancestral sword of House Reyne, last in the possession of House Drumm of the Ironborn, during his time.  Given the history Howland noted of this future, Orys and his half-brother being essentially high ranking military commanders out of Grey Harbor and Sea Dragon's Point respectively, it was more than likely Orys had paid the Iron Price for such. 

Orys took a raspy breath hopped up on the table near seat formerly occupied by Tywin Lannister. Howland could see the blood running from gaps in his armor.  His battle with the all of the guards in the Red Keep along with the Mountain had most likely taken its toll as it appeared to be a struggle to keep going. Orys quickly unfastened his swordbelt allowing it to fall before pulling two bolts out of his back and the third from his arm before removing his doublet to give him more freedom of movement. This revealed some very ugly wounds that indicated he was not long for this world and the blood flowed freely from the bolt wounds.

"I have found my vengeance against those who took my Arya and our unborn child from us," rasped Orys Storm. He looked around the room at the surviving members in the room.  "I have no desire to be a kinslayer without justification and the Long Night is already upon us. Unless my half-brother is successful, everyone will be dead within a few moons anyways as the Night King will have won and Death will rule over all."

Lord Renly sheathed his sword, "Orys, it is not too late. You can..."

"Goodbye Uncle Renly," said Orys,  "I go to meet Arya and our child who are waiting for me with the Old Gods."  Orys visibly  walking forward along the table.

"But not before sending King Daeron to the Seven Hells for letting this happen, " Orys said as he rapidly dropped to his knees and stabbed Red Rain through King Daeron's chest with the sword, then slumping down on the table dead himself.

Daenerys was speechless in shock as she and Renly stared in shock. Aerion seemed to be enraged as Howland saw him viewing his father dead and impaled with the red Valyrian steel sword with his mother's head staring wide-eyed back at him in shock. Aerion sheathed Dark Sister and bolted from the room.

Not half a minute later a deafening screech was heard form outside as Daenerys snapped to her senses, and looked at Renly, "Lord Renly, gather the remaining army of the Stormlands. I will be sending a raven to Lord Jaime Lannister to do the same for the Westerlands. I will be intercepting  catch up with Aerion on Balerion. Aerion will want vengeance on the North, but I need to see if I cannot defuse his anger so we don't lose more."

Renly nodded, "At once....my Queen." The Baratheon lord left the Solar in the Tower of the Hand, as Daenerys stepped towards the table, looking at her brother Daeron, now staring lifeless at the ceiling with a red Valyrian steel sword buried in his chest. Howland watched as Daenerys looked briefly to the bodies of her brother, Queen Cersei and Lord Tywin. Her gaze stayed more on her brother and she appeared to begin to weep.

The scene faded away as Howland felt himself transported to elsewhere and elsewhen.

WINTERFELL
Mid 306AC

Howland found himself in the Great Hall of Winterfell. There were only a few men gathered round one of the hearths. As he approached he saw four figures seated drinking some heated drink from ale mugs. He could see the steam rising off of such in due to the cold. The figure closest to himself looked almost like Lord Eddard Stark aged several more years with a white beard and hardened grey eyes. He was dressed in furs over steel and ringmail armor, his cloak being snowbear fur. He had House Stark's heirloom greatsword, Ice, in a scabbard on his back.

Next to him was a man dressed in  a suit of dark grey plate armor over a quilted tunic of blood-red leather with a heavy black cloak with blood red trim. The second man's hair was a deep black and his eyes looked like chips of dirty ice. He clutched a smaller pendant in his hand which was the same pendant which Eddard Stark's late daughter Sansa was wearing before her death. 

The third man was slightly larger than both of the other men and had fiery red hair and a long beard. He seemed to have a jovial personality as he drank some of his heated beverage. He was dressed however more as a wildling from North of the Wall however given he was covered in clothing made from furs with only what appeared to be a bronze scale mail cuirass.

The fourth man had dark brown hair and the same grey eyes which would mark him as a Stark. However, facially he seemed to oddly resemble King Daeron or his sister Daenerys more than any of the Starks. He was wearing similar armor to the first man. At his hip was a hand-and-a-half sword similar in design to Dark Sister.  The sword must be Blackfyre, thought Howland. I wonder how came upon that. Sitting next to him was a destrier-sized direwolf white of fur and with crimson red eyes.

A fifth entered the room, a small Crannogman dressed with a heavy snowbear fur cloak over his traditional Crannogman leather armor. It felt somewhat like looking in the mirror as Howland noticed similar features to his own but with Jyanna's eyes. The fifth man began to speak to the third man, "Tormund, you're back from Last Hearth? How many made .... "

"I'm the only one, Lord Jojen Reed, The Others overtook Last Hearth with a scouting party. From what I've heard the Wall has already fallen. They'll be upon us here in two days if we're lucky. More likely on the morrow. " stated Tormund, taking a swig from his mug. "What news of the Neck?"

"Ground's frozen through....and dead as a tomb. Most of the people in the Neck fled to Flint's Finger to leave for further south to Seagard and Lannisport. I'm the last survivor from Moat Caillin after the Other's attacked. The wights fell when I stabbed their last general with my dagger," said Jojen motioning to a primitive dragonglass dagger at his hip. "I did spot another army about a league away from Moat Caillin afterwards."

The first man perked up listening in on the conversation, "Another army?  Who Jojen?"

"I went south to take a look for a day before turning back around to head up here," said Jojen "Banners appeared to be Targaryen, Baratheon and Lannister. Not many however. Maybe two, three thousand total, Lord Theon."

Howland noted that this must be the Theon Stark whom Lord Rickard Stark had been referring to as one of the leaders of the Company of the Rose.  He must have been legitimized as a Stark and given a Lordship.  Lord Theon stated, "Any Dragons?"

"I caught a glimpse of one with green and bronze scales atop Moat Caillin as I was heading North."

The fourth man spoke up, "That is Syrax, Aerion's dragon. Which means Daenerys with Balerion must not be far behind."

Tormund spoke up, "Lord Commander Jon. We might survive the Long Night if they've come to our aid against the Night King."

"Not bloody likely," stated the third man in a very cynical but soothing voice. "They're probably up here for Fire and Blood and we can assume that Orys was successful in his vengeful rampage. Not like it will bring his Arya back." The third man chuckled, "I hope he fucking twisted the blade slowly making it agonizing for Daeron and that Lannister whore for his Queen."

Lord Commander Jon Blackfyre looked to the third man, "Domeric, letting hate eat you up like that won't bring Sansa back to you, nor will it bring back my Ros. Our primary goal is ..."

Domeric nodded, "Ending the long night. You are right cousin."

The Lord Commander looked at the older Stark and the other men, "I suggest we just open the South Gates and let them in under flag of truce. They're most likely going to want us to surrender and bend the knee. Fine. No problem. If we can get them to assist us in fighting the Night King even if it is just to distract him long enough for me to reach the Heart Tree at Blóðúlfr Hagi to obtain the sword Ōñosmaghare from the Old Gods to end the Night King and the Long Night. "

All the men nodded as they headed out of the Great Hall to the South Gate. Howland followed along but remained at the South Gate as the drawbridge lowered and  he saw Tormund and Jojen head for the outer southern gatehouse to raise the gates. Torrhen and Jojen remained at the outer gatehouse as Lord Domeric, Lord Theon and Lord Commander Jon started a bonfire in the middle of the courtyard to keep warm.  

Lord Commander Jon said relatively loudly into the air, "Spectre, jikagon arlī va nyke."  before turning to the large white direwolf who looked at Jon curiously. "Just calling your dragon brother home. " The direwolf made no sound as his tail subtly wagged before he sat down near the fire. 

A minute passed before rather large dragon whose mouth alone seemed to be able to swallow a couple of destriers in one gulp landed in the middle of the courtyard. The dragon's scales were bone white with a crimson marbling, like the pattern of the bark on a Weirwood. The dragon's eyes were a dark crimson like the leaves of a weirwood.  The white direwolf made a brief chuffing sound as the dragon returned a sound which was a brief low rumbling breathy growl.

It was not but an hour latrer as several soldier behind two lords entered the courtyard. The Lords dismounted their horses as Lord Commander Jon, Lord Theon and Lord Domeric approached them.

Lord Theon was the first to speak, "I would offer bread and salt although it would not be the most lavish of ceremonies given we have a few crusts left which we may share and what ale we have we will share."

The two lords approached, removing their helms, as Howland recognized them as Lord Renly Baratheon and Lord Jaime Lannister. Both had been through a long journey and it seemed their soldiers had endured the hardships of the journey.

Lord Theon Stark approached and introductions were made as well as a quick ceremony of bread and salt to establish Guest Rights. Lord Renly stepped forward, "What happened? We've stopped through every town and castle south of here and made our way here. Everything seems frozen over as would be during a normal cold Winter, but there's no one here."

Lord Theon Stark responded, "We sent our elderly, women, children and those who could not fight South as we battled the Others...."

Lord Renly scoffed, "You don't expect us to believe those old fairytales do you?"

Lord Theon spoke, "No. But those old fairytales are a day or less away from here. We were about to leave for Blóðúlfr Hagi , also known as the Meadow of the Bloody Wolf for the Heart Tree. It may be the last chance for us all to survive the Long Night."

Domeric added rather pessimisticly, "Or at least those currently South of the Neck." Domeric was stroking the pendant around his neck. Howland noticed Lord Jaime's shifting in his position as he looked Domeric's way.

Lord Jaime spoke up, "I wouldn't discount the statements of these Northmen, Lord Baratheon.  Rillstone Harbor is frozen over and is as quiet as a tomb. The only bodies I found were merely charred skeletons. We've encountered no one en route here over the road to Barrowton which was just as desolate a town. I'm sure you saw the charred ruins of Castle Cerwyn or did you come straight here?""

Lord Renly nodded, "So what are we all up against?"

Domeric spoke, "Mostly the reanimated dead smallfolk and fallen comrades of ours who were not burnt after death."

Lord Renly and Lord Jaime looked at Domeric as Lord Commander Jon stepped in, "The Others are real and they act almost as generals over these wights which comprise their armies of the dead. However, if you kill one of the Others, the wights they control become dead once again. There's really only two things that can kill the Others and that's dragonglass or Valyrian Steel.  Spectre and I bathed a whole army in dragonfire a sennight ago and only managed to take out the wights. The Others are unburnt."

Howland was surprised at this revelation as he noticed the Lords and their soldiers listening closer to Jon as he continued.

"Defeating Night King is the key to ending the Long Night," said Jon. "He's the one who commands the Others and controls them like the Others control their wights. Dragonglass and Valyrian Steel don't do anything to him however. Bloodraven however told me before his death that the one born of Dragon and Wolf must stick the sword of the dragon and the sword of the wolf into the Heart Tree sprouted from the grave of an ancient...."

The rest of Jon's sentence was drowned out by the screeching of a dragon as one with green and bronze scales, around three quarters the size of Spectre, landed in the courtyard. The dragon landed away from the area where Spectre and Ghost lay and its rider stepped off and drew his sword charging towards where the Lords were standing.

Lord Theon Stark caught the dragonrider mid swing towards Lord Commander Jon with a heavy punch to the side of his head with his gauntleted fist. This knocked the dragonrider off balance, tumbling to the ground and the dragonrider's helm to go flying.

"Apologies Prince Aerion but I cannot let you attack Lord Commander Jon Blackfyre," said Lord Theon Stark.

Lord Commander Jon added, "At least not yet."

Prince Aerion dusted himself off, standing up, "Very well. Syrax..."

The green and bronze dragon inched forward towards where they were all standing. Lord Renly and Lord Jaime stumbled back as Lord Theon, Lord Domeric and Lord Commander Jon stood their ground. "Dracarys!" said Aerion as dragonflame shot forth and covered the area where Theon, Domeric, and Jon for a solid minute. When the dragonflame stopped all that remained other than the crumbling blackened ash shaped like Theon and Domeric were a now naked Jon with Blackfyre and Ice laying on the charred ground.

Aerion drew Dark Sister again and rushed towards Jon who merely quickly grabbed Blackfyre. Jon was the better swordsman, but, now exposed to the bitter cold and unarmored, Aerion was able to stab him through the chest. Jon staggered back as Aerion had a bitter smile, triumphant.  

Tormund and Jojen had just arrived in along with several dozen more men as Howland through the South Inner Gatehouse that the drawbridge was closing.

Lord Jaime stepped forward along with Lord Renly to stand next to Aerion as Jon said his last words, "You've doomed us with your anger ... The prophecy left on the walls of the Night Fort  ... <cough> ... Bloodraven's prophecy ... the one born of Dragon and Wolf must stick the sword of the dragon and the sword of the wolf into the Heart Tree sprouted from the grave of an ancient witch.  Together they will become Ōñosmaghare,  Brimir ór ljós , Lightbringer, which will defeat the Night King and <cough> end the Long Night."

Aerion scoffed, "You're just as mad as my uncle Rhaegar who raped you into that she-wolf whore." Lord Jaime looked slightly concerned as Lord Renly began to open his mouth. Aerion cut him off,  as he walked over to pick up Blackfyre, "Well, I have my vengeance. No one will remember the Starks or that bastard Storm of that bastard Blackfyre who ..." Howland saw Jon's soul leave his body and drift towards the Godswood of Winterfell

Aerion was then himself drowned out by a roaring as a huge black and red dragon, slightly larger than Spectre, touched down next to Spectre. The rider hopped off and began running towards where Aerion was standing. Howland observed as Aerion turned to the new arrival, "Ah, my Queen. I think I shall give you Dark Sister as I have recovered the sword of Aegon the Conqueror." He then looked to Renly, "The Starks are no more so I'd suggest perhaps claiming Ice by right of conquest."

Howland could tell Daenerys was not pleased, "Have you forgotten honor? Or the lessons Lord Arryn taught you on ... "

Aerion stated, "I brought vengeance via fire and blood on those who killed my mother and father and grandfather."

Daenerys stated, "No you haven't. The man who did that lay died of his own wounds in the Tower of the Hand when you left." Aerion seemed confused after the reprimand as Daenerys continued, "The man you just killed was the same man Lord Eddard Stark entrusted with the chest that held the eggs for the three dragons in this courtyard. "  Daenerys looked towards Lord Jaime and Lord Renly, "And those two piles of ash were once?"

Lord Jaime stated deadpan, "Lord Theon Stark, the  urrent Lord of Winterfell, and Lord Domeric Bolton, the Current Lord of the Dreadfort, Lord Commander Jon began saying something about a prophecy that has me concerned, given that every town and castle and even small villages are deserted if not abandoned with the only peculiarity being the occasional burned corpse. I would...."

Lord Jaime's statement was cut off by a blur of white knocking him and Renly over as Howland watched Aerion being pushed down by a giant white direwolf before being quickly mauled to deathby the large canine's powerful jaws.  Howland saw Aerion's soul leave his body witha look of regret on its face as it seemed drawn towards the Godswood in Winterfell and faded into the distance. Lord Jaime ended Ghost's life soon after Lord Jaime had skewered the direwolf with Brightroar through its flank into its heart. Howland observed the soul of the direwolf emerge as an eager pup running in the direction of the Godswood.

Lord Jaime then stood back up, "I would see if we can't gather our men and leave this place at once. If I was listening to Lord Commander Jon's last words correctly there was a sword needed which could only be forged by the stabbing both Ice and Blackfyre into the Heart Tree sprouted from the grave of an ancient witch...."

Jojen standing nearby, interjected , "He means the Heart Tree in Meadow of the Bloody Wolf, That's where Weirwood Wylla was killed by Lord Royce Bolton decades ago.  The prophecy also said that it must be done by one who was born of a Dragon and a Wolf." Howland could see the realization sinking into those standing around the fallen as they realized that with Jon's death, Lightbringer could not be magically forged.

Tormund stated, "Well we're fooked. We should have just taken off for Blóðúlfr Hagi  instead of waiting for these kneelers, considering who's outside the gate right now."

Lord Renly asked, "How many?" An odd clattering was heard from southwards. Howland thought it sounded much like the sound that the mudslide made when he was in the Northern Mountains after an odd heavy summer rain. Then there was some thumping heard against the inner walls of Winterfell.

Tormund shrugged, "Couldn't count as the number of dead stretched to the horizon. The drawbridges being up may buy us some time...."   Howland watched the south wall to the right and left of the gatehouse as he saw the bodies of wights start falling from the top of the wall like a waterfall.  "... or not," completed Tormund as the dozens of wights which had thrown themselves from the top of the wall began getting back up and shambling towards them.

It was at this point that the straining of the closed ironwood doors on the inner gates of the inner gatehouse were heard. A few moments later the inner doors burst as a flood of wights burst forth. Spectre and Balerion took to the air after an horrible screech was heard, as a riderless Syrax in a panic flooded the courtyard with dragonfire, burning the wights, but every living soul as well, save for Daenerys Targaryen, left with only soot from the ashes of her furs and those around her to provide her with any dignity. The screech occurred again, and seemed to be as if it was from a very large dragon but itself sounded odd and hollow as if there was something different about the dragon who gave the roar.

Howland watched as Spectre plummetted from the sky missing one of his wings with a large gash on the side of his neck, hitting what looked like the Maester's Turret on his way down. The sounds of glass shattering and the whine of twisting metal along  was heard after the large dragon landed presumably on the Glass Gardens. Shortly thereafter there was a rumble on the ground which sounded like it had come from the wall over the Hunter's Gate and a deafening screech was heard the top half of Balerion landed in the tourney grounds to the east. Balerion's lower half landed on gatehouse of the Inner Castle.

A third screech was heard as Howland watched the Great Keep and Great Hall being knocked over by a giant shadowy figure. As the figure neared, Howland recognized it as the huge re-animated corpse of a huge dragon. The undead dragon immediately pounced on the fearful Syrax, devouring the smaller dragon in one bite. The undead dragon's head contained teeth which would be as tall as a man easily. Howland observed it also had glowing blue eyes which suddenly extinguished themselves. The huge undead dragon then fell inert as the glowing eyes faded. It fell over, it's corpse crushing all the buildings northwestward from it including the Guest House and Guard's quarters as well as the inner wall near those buildings.

Howland looked to see Daenerys on her knees in on the frozen blackened ground, staring in the direction of  From the cloud of smoke and debris from the remains of the buildings in Winterfell, Howland saw several figures emerge. They were shaped like men, yet they were not men. They were Tall and gaunt, like living skeletons almost, with their flesh pale as milk. They all stared ahead with cold blue eyes which glowed like bright as blue stars. They were dressed in what appeared to be some ancient black bronze ringmail. The Other in the center of the group was unique, although he was wearing similar armor, but had several small horns which grew in a circle around his head giving the appearance of a crown.

Howland recognized this Other as the Night King. The Night King glanced towards Jon's unburnt body with Dark Sister still impaled in his chest with Ice and Blackfyre laying nearby. Oddly the Night King seemed to scowl in anger, growling some curses in a language that sounded like ice crackling, before screaming to the heavens in the same language. The Night King then looked at the Others accompanying him and a moment passed before they shattered into thousands of tiny pieces as if they were fine crystal vases dropped onto a hard stone floor.

The Night King then lunged towards the frightened Daenerys and touched her forehead with his hand drawing a spiral shape with his sharp thumbnail and repeated a few words in the same crackling language. Howland suddenly recognized as the phrase, Haunt and Observe.  

Daenerys body then began to freeze solid as her eyes began to glow a bright blue like the Others. Cracks began to appear on her body as she attempted to move. These cracks divided her body into finer and finer pieces as eventually she shattered just like the Others previously. However the pieces reformed into an mist that appeared to still be surrounding her soul as it rose from her body. Daenerys herself tried to scream in horror but the resulting sound was more like a cold wind blowing over the barrows. 

Howland backed up as the Night King turned towards him saying in the same language of the Others, "Witness the far future and avoid. You will be the Greenseer who will allow me to finally be freed and end the Long Night."  With that the Night King drew a spiral in the air and Howland felt himself freeze in his spectral state as he literally watched time rapidly pass before his eyes, watching snowdrifts form and then blow away rapidly with the passage of time.

Howland wandered about Winterfell albeit slowly as he watched the wooden structures gradually crumble and weather away to nothing. He saw the corpses of the dragons weather away to skeletons as their black bones were all that remained, becoming reddish with rust before eventually going the way of less durable material as stone.  He saw the rubble of the stone of the buildings and the walls erode to a smooth finish, and the intact buildings gradually crumble slowly.   As he neared the Godswood he noticed the trees all gone, most likely dead and decayed long ago, save for the Heart Tree which itself was fairly large. The last thing to go were the walls of winterfell and the overall superstructure as the pipes within the walls had frozen and thawed eroding the stone from the inside out, as those too crumbled to the ground.

The passage of time for him began to slow down as he found himself in the middle of a large snow covered hill under a huge Heart Tree with a few random scattered large stones indicating where the walls of Winterfell once had been.

WINTERFELL RUINS
Late 937,354 AC

Howland found himself standing near the Heart Tree as he saw the form of the Night King kneeling at the Heart Tree praying with his hand on the bark. The Night King turned to see Howland Reed and turned to him. The Night King looked up at Howland Reed as he approached. The Night King's face seemed to dawn a relieved expression as he sat leaning with his back to the Heart Tree.  His glowing blue eyes began to fade as opened his black leather with bronze ringmail doublet and pulled a dragonglass crystal out from where he heart had been.

The Night King's appearance appeared to shift from the otherworldly creature he was to one of a battle weary man. The man seemed to have both the muscular features common to warriors of Northern First Men stock as well as the angular facial features normally associated with those with the Blood of Old Valyria.   The man said "Þat endir fyrir mik nú " then fell silent as the crystal slipped from his hands, the crystal itself melting into the ground until it had completely disappeared. The man then fell silent as Howland watched his inert body begin to age rapidly and then decay into nothing in the span of a few minutes.

Howland noted the quiet as the night seemed to end finally and the sun began to rise. He looked east to see the first rays of sunlight appear over the horizon and sat his spectral self down enjoying the tranquility for a time. He eventually felt a presence nearby and turned to see the spectral form of Daenerys Targaryen standing next to him.

"I suppose you'll be better company than our friend who just arrived yesterday," said Daenerys. Her ghostly form had a well defined face and upper body, as Howland could tell her expression was one of a quite pleasant smile of acceptance, but she seemed to be composed of smoke or a mist.

"Have you ... " began Howland.

"Been here the whole time?" replied Daenerys. "Yes. Unfortunately I did not have the luxury you did with your Old Gods speeding you through time, Greenseer. For lack of a better term, I've haunted these decaying ruins for more years than I can count. I lost track after the first twenty thousand or so. Occasionally I'd see one of the Others wander by or a rogue Wight, untethered from its master but still continuing on. Once in a while I would catch a glimpse of a soul coming by, going where I could not. I think quite a few millenia have passed since I've seen the last one."

The ghost of Daenerys paused, "I did see an odd looking raven with three eyes around the time you could still see where the foundations for the walls of Winterfell were on this hill. That was before that canyon over there began to form."  Daenerys chuckled, "He fell over dead in a snowdrift as he flew away. This was after he let me know that with any luck, another greenseer may come to pass and give us a better ending than this. He seemed to be complaining about the ghost of the Queen of the Rills reprimanding him like a child for his plans when hers appear to have not worked out any better."

Howland chuckled, "The woman who could tell you about that interaction has been long dead since she was poisoned by your bastard nephew Jaehaerys along with her children"

Daenerys nodded sadly as she floated around Howland to the other side of him as she continued, "Whatever powers that exist whether they are the Old Gods, the Seven, the Red God, the Drowned God, whomever ... I feel they've kept me around for a reason and they revealed bits and pieces to me through over the millenia."

Howland looked at the spectral Daenerys eagerly awaiting her answer.

"I was waiting for the Greenseer born of the Crannog to come by and I would give him the message," stated Daenerys. "House Stark must be intact as well as House Targaryen to face the long night together. Daeron's children must be with queen who is worthy. I pray I will be born as well to continue my family line with a worthy one of Daeron's sons. Lord Eddard, heir to the Kings of Winter and the Warg King, and his wife Lady Barbrey, heir to the Queens of the Rills, must continue House Stark's family line.  Both lines must begin to merge before the Long Night, so there will be more than one of Dragon's Blood and Wolf's Blood to face the Night King and survive the Long Night and avoid this very long Winter and empty lifeless world."

Howland nodded, "I suppose this would be the time i go back and let Eddard know about everything."

The ghost of Daenerys nodded, "In a manner of speaking...."  Howland looked at the ghost of Daenerys smiling as an odd bulge began to form in the Heart Tree and an additional smaller face appeared around the bulge.  The bulge itself began taking shape into the form of a woman and then separated from the Heart Tree itself, appearing as if a woman made entirely of weirwood bark with weirwood leaves where her hair would. The weirwood woman walked towards the two with a smile on her face as well. 

Howland recognized the face on the woman made out of weirwood as that of Weirwood Wylla, the woods witch, as she spoke, "It's been some time since I've last seen you, Greenseer. The last time was around the time of my death when you were the guide to the heir to the Queens of the Rills at the beginning of her journey to meet with the Old Gods. They have plans for you as well beyond being a guide for the heir to the Kings of Winter and the Warg King." 

Weirwood Wylla paused then looking at the ghost of Daenerys, "First things first...."  Weirwood Wylla touched the forehead of the ghost of Daenerys and the mist of fine ice crystals that she was composed of fell to the ground as snow so all that was left was her soul floating in the air. "Go be with your fellow departed, Daenerys Stormborn. Your duty to the Gods has been fulfilled."  Daenerys' soul wandered away fading away as it journeyed to whatever dimension souls were ultimately destined to arrive.

Weirwood Wylla faced Howland and stepped closer to him, "But yours has just begun...you have travelled further into a future than any Greenseer or Woods Witch before you has, even myself. This journey will come at a price however. You will need to return through a natural conduit. This will act as a gateway as well for you to return to your body around the time you departed on the journey for your Greendream."

Weirwood Wylla touched Howland's spectral form's forehead as she had done to Daenerys' ghost and Howland felt himself being pulled away in a different manner. When he came too he found himself in total darkness.

WINTERFELL
Afternoon,  4th day, 7th Moon, 270 AC

Howland found himself in total darkness, lying prone on his back. He felt a weight on his chest and felt it with his hands. It felt like a hilt and a pommel of a hand-and-a-half sword. The sword itself was and he ran his fingers along the blade. He could feel the sharpness but oddly he felt no pain and the blade did not cut into him for some reason. Howland felt each of his hands and they felt skeletal, incomplete, as did the rest of his body.

Putting his hands up in front of him he felt the hard stone lid of what was most likely a sarcophagus. Becoming aware of the rather claustrophobic confined space, he shoved hard upwards his might, and noticed the sarcophagus slid slightly to the side. With the second shove he pushed harded and the lid moved fully off the sarcophagus until it slammed to the floor whatever tomb he was in with a loud thud.

Howland saw that he essentially was inhabiting the skeletal remains of whomever was entombed in the sarcophagus, and realized he was in the Crypts of Winterfell. He felt dust and mineral debris which was strewn around the crypts being drawn towards him as he walked along the corridor towards the exit leading upwards into the Lichyard near the Old Keep. His appearance gradually took on that of a normal human being albeit very old and an oddly dusty appearance to his garb.

En route through the southeast ward, he ran into an oddly younger-looking Maester Walys Flowers. Maester Walys Flowers approached him and addressed him, "My Lord, you look like a Stark but I fail to recognize which member of the House you may be....Oftentimes Lord Rickard has had distant uncles and cousins from the branch houses"

Howland had to think fast. Maester Walys was a recent hire for a maester around the time of Edwyle's death. This was after Rickard's marriage to Lyarra Stark, daughter of Arya Flint and Rodrik 'the Wandering Wolf'.  He most likely doesn't know what Rodrik looks like. "Just thought I'd pop in to see how my goodson was doing and...."

"My condolences then on the loss of your daughter a fortnight ago, My Lord Rodrik," replied Maester Walys immediately.

"Aye....I was paying my respects at her tomb in the crypts...." said Howland as Rodrik. "Is Rickard here?"

Maester Walys answered , "Not as such, My Lord. He is actually in White Harbor currently, taking his son Eddard to ."

"Ah yes, that treaty he had with the Old Falcon," said Howland as Rodrik. "Perhaps if you had a quill, some ink and some parchment I could leave my goodson a note?"

Maester Walys nodded, "Sure, My Lord. Would you not like to perhaps go bathing in the Hot Springs to clean up some? You appear to be covered from head to toe in dirt."

Howland froze for a moment, and decided to snap back, noting Rodrik's slight eccentricities, "No. I'm heading through the Wolfswood one my way home after I leave the note. Last thing I need is a pack of wolves or a shadowcat smelling me all sweetly bathed and perfumed like some Southron dandy."

Maester Walys snorted in disapproval but nevertheless politely nodded, "As you wish Lord Rodrik. If you will follow me...." Howland followed Maester Walys to the Maester's Turret. It was slow going, with the flesh on the Cregan Stark's skeletal remains being formed entirely from the dust from fragments of weathered basalt and limestone in the crypts.  He appeared to be a man caked in a thin layer of dark sooty dust as one would get through extensive travelling in certain parts of the Northern Mountains.

They arrived at the Maester's Turret and Maester Walys supplied Howland with the requested scribe's paraphenalia. Howland began writing a quick note regarding the immediate notification regarding what Lazoquo Ostelion of Myr would be after, where they were placing the wagon full of wildfire, etc...   He switched however to writing in smaller Old Tongue ruins writing a complete account of his Greendream so far in very small characters. when he was done he had already used up seven sheets of parchment.

Maester Walys seemed slightly taken aback at the amount of ink and parchment used as Howland as Lord Rodrik the Wandering Wolf sealed the note with sealing wax using the gold dragon coin which appeared to have the sigil of House Targaryen on the 'tails' side.  Howland looked at the coin, which he had coughed up earlier being the three coins that were placed over the eyes and in the mouth of the deceased nobility in order for them to have enough to pay the toll for their souls and the souls of the smallfolk under their manor to the green meadows and tranquil fields of the afterlife with the Old Gods.  Howland had briefly considered using the coins to pay for the extra parchment but figured it would be safer  with Maester Walys thinking he's a cheap old man.  "I'll just drop this off in my goodson's solar," said Howland as he Howland walked quickly out of the Maester's Turret towards the Great Keep.

Howland noticed some dark dirt on the floor behind him as he entered the Northeast Tower.  He noticed that some of the 'flesh' on his left hand had fallen away. As he reached the top of the Tower and headied past the Stark family chambers towards the Library Turret, he noticed that the body he inhabited was slowly falling apart to the dust from whence it came. He began to panic as he reached the North Ward near the Hunter's Gate.

Howland did see opportunity when he spotted the simpleton of the stableboy, oddly nicknamed 'Hodor' because that was the only word he knew and that itself was a nonsense word.  Howland approached him figuring he could direct him to lift the sarcophagus lid into place and seal the tomb once more. 

He walked up to the stableboy, asking him personally for some assistance, "Hodor, megþúr fylgjagð mik?"

The stableboy looked at him confused and stated, "Minn nafn er eigi Hodor! Ek em Wylis. Ek hafkunnustar ór dýrar ok kare fyrir þau." 

Howland was surprised for a moment, then stated, "Eltmikr til kryptsrinn.  Ek em Cregan Stark.  Ok ek þorfuþinnr fylgjagð."   Howland asked him to follow him to the crypts that he needed his help and he was Cregan Stark.

Wylys was still obviously a simpleton, given his response "Cregan Stark hvílaðr inn kryptanmeðr allr gamallinn Starkarr.  Ek munu fylgjagð þú til þinn beð." Howland resisted laughing as the giant blooded stableboy had just stated that Cregan Stark sleeps in the Crypts with the Ancient Starks and that he wll help him go to bed.  Howland felt he should play along as he seemed to be rapidly falling apart.

They reached the Crypts and together they we able to lift the lid onto the sarcophagus but Howland's rapid decay would not let him enter the sarcophagus and be able to hold the lid open whilst he enterred. He realized he did really need Wylis' help. And Wylis, being the naturally empathic boy who always wished to help, stated as if a question, "Haldliðinnr opnaðarr?"

"Já! Haldliðinnr opnaðarr!" said Howland as the dust fell from his borrowed skeleton and he dropped the parchments on top of the large chest at one end of the sarcophagus. The giant's blooded stableboy held the huge lid of the sarcophagus open as Howland, or rather Howland wearing the rapidly disintegrating dessicated skeletal corpse of Cregan Stark, slipped back into the sarcophagus. Howland felt himself fading and losing consistency with the solid form as he felt himself slipping back into the more spectral realm of the Greendream.

"Ek munu haldliðinnr opnaðorr!" repeated the giant stableboy back to Howland, as Howland's tether of communication with the stableboy grew slack. Unfortunately for the stableboy he kept repeating what was told to him by Howland until it seemed like the only thing he could say, as his grasp of language seemed to become more and more damaged, until only a an extremely clipped version of his final words to Howland.

"Ek munu haldliðinnr opnaðorr!"

"E'mun' haldlið'nr opn'ðorr!"

"Haldlið'r opn'ðorr!"

"Hald' o'nðorr!"

"H'd'o'ðorr!"

"Hod'ðor!"

"Hodor! Hodor!"

He heard echoing in his ears as he felt himself finsally being pulled back out of the Greendream as the stableboy panicked and dropped the sarcophagus lid in pace. Howland heard muffled cries of the same word over and over, fading down the corridor of the crypts, as he felt himself being twisted inside out as he returned from his Greendream. 

WINTERFELL GODSWOOD
Morning 21st Day, 10th Moon, 280AC

Howland fell back from the Heart Tree and attempted to stand up. He wobbled a bit before vomiting his entire stomach contents including some blood onto the side of the Heart Tree. Eddard Stark was still standing where he was when Howland began his Greendream.

"Með Gamall Goðarr, Howland," exclaimed Eddard. "It's only been a few minutes and... "

Howland grasped for Eddard gripping him weakly, "Been a long journey....<gulp> ... too much to tell you. Dragon Eggs. Cregan Stark's Tomb. The Crypts...."  Howland's nose began to bleed as Eddard's face dropped into one of concern and panic.  Howland gripped Eddard Stark hard, and used all his strength to rasp, "Listen to me carefully. Go to Cregan Stark's tomb in the Crypts. Open the sarcophagus. There will be a chest with dragon's eggs in there.  There should be also several pieces of parchment in the chest for you explaining much, much more which you will need to know." 

Howland dropped to his knees, as Eddard looked panicked as the direwolves Cregan and Lynara and their fellow pack came close curious. Eddard turned to Lynara, looking into her eyes, "Minn Dróttning, ek veit þú megheyrr minn mæli um earinn ór Lynara.  Howlanð þurfur maesterrinn!" Lynara then ran off towards the Inner Castle from the Godswood.

Howland chuckled weakly, "The Old Gods have indeed a price for seeing the future."  Howland felt the world begin to spin and he began to drift in and out of consciousness, his last vision being of Lady Barbrey arriving with Maester Walys, and an older version of the stableboy picking him up in his arms as if he were a mere child.

"Be careful with young Lord Howland, Wylis," said the Maester.

The giant stableboy merely responded, "Hodor."  Howland felt the sharp pang of guilt as he realized what he had done to the young stableboy's mind with this Greendream.

WINTERFELL, GUEST PATIENT SUITE, MAESTER'S TOWER
Sunrise, 15th day, 4th Moon,  281AC

Howland opened his eyes to a woman with greenish-grey eyes and dark brown curls with her head buried on his chest. As he drew a deep breath, the young woman stirred and looked towards Howland with a slight smile, "You're awake finally."

"Yes," stated Howland in confusion, noting that he had a full beard. "How long was I ... ?"

"Five Moons," said the young woman. "You've had some odd visitors by the way.  Three woods witches known to be apprentices of the late Weirwood Wylla were by to check on you. Apparently you've caused a bit of a stir with whatever you were able to do, Howland."

"The Old Gods showed me a possible future, not a good one, Jyana" said Howland. "I saw our daughter Meera and our son Jojen.  I saw Jojen burned alive by dragonfire during the Long Night. I saw Eddard and Barbrey die along with their children. I...."

Jyana sought to lighten the mood, "Speaking of Eddard and Barbrey. Eddard got your note. It caused a bit of a stir however with the Stark Household after Eddard had finished reading such since he wouldn't reveal the contents of it to anyone but Barbrey, but us women were talking after the dust had settled from the events of the past few months."

Howland asked, "What happened?"

Jyana answered , "You missed alot Howland. Eddard Stark killed a couple of sellswords in the First Keep a few days after you fell into your long sleep. Rogar Bolton and Royce Bolton were tried for their crimes. Royce apparently committed suicide prior to the vote on his guilt or innocence, but Rogar Bolton was found guilty of two of the three counts. Lord Rickard Stark passed the final sentence and executed Rogar Bolton via beheading in the Great Hall."

Howland stated, "Where's Eddard?"

"Sea Dragon's Point at the moment with Lady Barbrey.  A whole entourage headed out there as we saw them leave. House Ryswell along with Lord Eddard's Castellan Lord Rodrik Glover and his wife Lady Maege and her daughters headed out along with them and their direwolves. They're married by the way."

Howland raised his eyebrows.

"Married in the Godswood prior to leaving for Sea Dragon's Point. Other than that Lord Roose Bolton and Lady Bethany Bolton arrived the morning of the wedding. They stayed for a bit until the end of the Gathering. Barbrey and Bethany have been keeping in touch with Lyanna and I. Eddard has been primarily working with Ser Wendel and Lord Commander Orthanc Slate on construction planning for his territories and everywhere west of here. I think Roose may be heading down here for something Lord Brandon may need him for."

Howland nodded, "It would be interesting to see Roose again live, not through Greensight."

Jyana stated, "Oh...and Bethany Bolton is four moons along with their first child."

Howland stated cryptically, "Myranda."

Jyana stared at Howland with an odd look, "Yes, if it's a girl...Roose was thinking Domeric for a boy's name."   Jyana paused for a moment, "Meera? Jojen? I never told you I was thinking of those names by the way for our children."  She sighed, "It's going to definitely take some getting used to being the wife of a powerful greenseer. Just don't do anything like this again. "

Howland stated, "I still have to undergo the trials...."

Jyana stated, "Based on what I heard from the three Woods Witches who visited your bedside to pray for your recovery, you're already way past that level. However, Barbrey and Eddard did express some interest in getting married at the Isle of Faces whilst we're all down at Harrenhal, but I think they were tired of waiting. I think her direwolf Lynara was driving this since it was about a moon from that season for direwolves. And she was unsure of the Moon Tea supply at Sea Dragon's Point given the lack of need for the current Maester to stock it."

Howland nodded with a distant look, thinking of the future and curious as to what went on during his five moons of slumber. He was relieved he at least was able to stop te wildfire explosion and all of the House Stark were still alive, but the future is an uncertain thing. He knew the outcome of one path but he was unsure of where this new path he had been instrumental in directing House Stark toward would lead. This filled Howland with uncertainty and dread regarding the possibility of him making the wrong decision on his greensight or relaying the wrong information in the wrong way to people like Lord Eddard and Lady Barbrey. 

You are a powerful Greenseer but are inexperience, Howland Reed, said a familiar female voice, not his own, in his head. With time you will gain the experience you need as a Greenseer. Trust in yourself and those around you. You've already paid the price to the Old Gods for your journey as I told you you would.

Chapter Text

LAZOQUO II
Late Night, 24th Day, 10th Moon, 280 AC

"Maelor, skoriot issi ao? Mēre gaomas daor jorrāelagon iā bōsa jēda naejot dīnagon se ajomemēys ezīmagon dīnagon!" , said Lazoquo Ostelion to himself, as he entered the Lichyard of Winterfell. He saw the large wagon in place just inside the large entrance the drum tower of the First Keep.

Lazoquo and Maelor had arrived at Winterfell and had setup their stand at the market area within the Same Ward as the tiltyard. Everything seemed to be going smoothly and they seem to have been accepted in to their role as mere Salty Dornish merchants. They had blended in flawlessly, although he did warn Maelor that his flirtations with some of the daughters of the Mountain Clans' Lords could get him into some deep trouble. Maelor noted that this he was living up to the stereotype of the Dornish accepted by the more Northern parts of Westeros, where they view the Dornish being less repressed about their sexuality than the other Six Kingdoms as open promiscuity. Maelor had noted he flirted with some of the younger lords equally although Lord Brandon Stark did not appreciate his advances. Oddly they had not encountered Eddard Stark, the one Stark he recognized.  Lazoquo, however had to admit even Captain Theon Snow upon his arrival had ordered a cask for both he and Lord Brandon and paid for such during this encounter. 

They would need to work fast however as events of the past two days since their arrival had complicated matters. Rogar Bolton had been ambushed upon is entry to Winterfell, Royce Bolton was with him and apparently the army the Spears of Damnation were to be backing up was massacred. Lord Rickard Stark had just removed the head of Rogar Bolton in the courtyard near the Guard House of Winterfell earlier in the morning which explained the reasoning for the heavy guard presence upon their arrival to setup with the rest of the merchants for feasts and tournaments which would happen over the next sennight. They would have to move quickly.

Lazoquo wandered towards the wagon still sitting in the entrance, noticing that it had not moved and the wildfire still in the ceramic casks disguised as casks of spirits were still sitting half-buried in sand-filled bed of the wagon.  Lazoquo thought that odd for a moment, until he heard a muffled voice yell from the crypts as opened the door to its entrance, "Lazoquo, eman skoros īlon māstan syt.  Māzigon ilagon kesīr."

Lazoquo walked tentatively down into the darkened crypts with the oil lantern in hand lighting his way through the darkness. He walked forward deeper into the crypts passing statues of presumably old Lords of House Stark. There were oddly several huge statues of direwolves as well within the crypts. Lazoquo tried to calm his nerves down telling himself these were only statues, despite the uncanny feeling he was being watched.

"Iksan toliot kesīr," were the words he heard coming from a corridor which led to the right off of the main corridor. He heard an odd schnick! sound and thump and then what appeared to be a lightly scraping sound. Lazoquo followed that corridor, realizing Maelor may be have what they came here for. He reached a sarcophagus with an oil-lantern on its lid as well as a knife which he recognized as Maelor's sitting next to it. Next to the lantern was a chest which seemed to have it's padlock opened and sitting next to the chest  Lazoquo assumed that the sound was Maelor forcing open the lock and setting it down on the stone sarcophagus lid.

Lazoquo opened the lid of the chest and gasped as he looked in horror at the contents. Inside the chest, set in one of the depressions meant most likely for the original contents, was the severed head of Maelor. Next to it was another head but with its face removed via some skillful surgeon or ... a Faceless Man perhaps? , he thought. These Starks are more powerful that my superior may have thought.  

Lazoquo began backing away from the box in fear until for some reason he froze. He couldn't feel his arms or legs for a brief second as he stared at the chest still.  Lazoquo attempted to turn his head, and felt his head hit the floor as he watched his body fall the other way. The last sight Lazoquo had before his soul left his now decapitated physical form was the long face of a man with ice grey eyes and a prominent scar over his left eye staring at him as he placed Lazoquo's head in the remaiing depression in the chest and shut the lid.

EDDARD VII
Morning, 21st Day, 10th Moon, 280 AC

Eddard held the smaller Crannogman in his arms, really the only consistent friend and companion outside of his Castellan Lord Rodrik Glover and his betrothed Lady Barbrey Ryswell. He had sent Lynara away talking through to (he hoped) Barbrey to fetch Maester Walys and bring him to the Godswood. Something happened in the short time he was away, barely an hour if that. But Howland's greendream could have been weeks or moons long or years for that matter. Howland Reed had told him that oftentimes there is a price for greendreams if one sees the future. Depending on how much one sees will determin the magnitude of the price, he remembered Howland saying, adding Or so they say at the end of the sentence as some means of comforting, Eddard as Eddard felt the empathic Howland could tell their friendship was close in the short time they'd known each other.

Barbrey arrived with Lynara behind her and Maester Walys. Barbrey had also brought along Wylis. Wylis was Old Nan's great grandson who evidently had the blood of giants given his large size and great strength. He was a gentle giant that although very simpleminded had good instincts and was very empathic towards all living things. Eddard noted  that he was the only 'stranger' whom the Direwolves never felt the need to do their normal routine of getting to know, almost trusting Wylis immediately. Wylis was earned the nickname 'Hodor' since he had somehow lost the ability to use his native Old Tongue ten years ago after suffering a seizure wandering through the Lichyard and Hodor seemed to be the only word he would use. 

Maester Walys bent over Howland who seemed to be drifting in and out of consciousness, looking to Eddard, "What happened?"

"Se Jaes Uēpys emagon indeed iā odre syt se jēdri naejot," said Howland weakly as he drifted in and out of consciousness.

Maester Walys looked puzzled for a moment commenting, "I didn't know your Lord Reed's son was fluent in High Valyrian."

"He's not," replied Eddard. "He however was practicing greensight. It wasn't even an hour he was in the greendream that he woke up, vomited his breakfast and what appeared to be some blood as well and then started to pass out."

Maester Walys asked, "Did he say anything else to you?"

Eddard stated, "It was a jumble of Old Tongue, Common Tongue and High Valyrian and a few other languages I didn't recognize. All I got from it was something was in the Crypts and the Old Man of the North." Eddard sat for a moment, looking at the direwolves then to a worried Barbrey, "Maester Walys, see what you can do for him. He's important to the pack."

Maester Walys nodded, as he examined Howland Reed. He spoke as he examined him, "Last time I saw this sort of fatigue was when after there was an ironborn raid on a fishing village south of Barrowton. The young smallfolk fisherman spent a whole day and a half recuperating after running all the way here non-stop after getting lost en route to Barrowton and Torrhen's Square.  But Lord Howland does not show any signs of the muscular tightness or thirst."  Maester Walys sat back pausing, "I may have to consult some of the texts in the Library, perhaps also consult with some of the other Maesters in the North if they have any records of some of the other symptoms, although he doesn't show any trauma to his head at all.  The blood in the vomit may be some unknown poison but he's got no outward signs of any known poisoning. Best to get him to my tower where I can further examine him and give him the best care I can give."

Maester Walys looked at the giant stableboy, motioning for him to come near. "We're going to take him to the guest room in the Maester's Tower so he may be under my care."  Maester Walys nodded to the stableboy, "Pick him up gently please, Wylis."

Wylis nodded with a smile, "Hodor." He picked up Howland much like he would pick up a baby foal which he had done many times for Argyll the Horse Master and his son Hullen: gently but powerfully.

Maester Walys still warned him as the two wandered off, "Be careful with young Lord Howland, Wylis."  Maester Walys and the giant stableboy headed towards the Maester's tower with the unconscious Howland Reed.  Eddard and Barbrey followed as the direwolves went back to lounging around the Godswood.  Once Howland was setup in the room and well taken care of.

Maester Walys noted that Howland was stable and not in any harm's way and perhaps just needs some rest. According to Archmaester Fenris' Twelfth Edition Of Unique Northern Ailments (which was admittedly a very old treatise dating back to around the time of Brandon the Boastful)  described the case of a Crannogman who slept for a week after a rather intense greensight trance. There was no mention of blood in the patient's bile, but there was documented an acute sense of nausea directly afterwards followed by a very still sleep. The patient had awakened a week later with no ill effects other than a ravenous appetite and intense thirst which went away once he was sated with a proper meal.

Eddard seemed somewhat relieved but still concerned as Barbrey noted that Eddard had a very busy day today with welcoming several Houses bordering their lands as well as meeting with them along with his Castellan and two Vassal Lords immediately thereafter. House Ryswell and House Whitehill were arriving at sunset as well.  Eddard agreed but seemed somewhat distant before blurting out some odd words.

"Lenton morgho ēdrugon hen Cregan?" said Eddard. "Cregan's Tomb?"

Barbrey looked at him oddly, "Your bonded direwolf is still alive. It was his father who ... "

"No, my love," said Eddard. "Howland said something about Cregan Stark's Tomb in the words he spoke before he passed out in my arms." 

Barbrey looked concerned for a moment, whilst Eddard stated, "I suppose we'll need to get ready for welcoming the Houses.  I'll meet you at the South Gate, my love."  Eddard rushed out of the room rather hurriedly descending the stairs of the Maester's Tower to the entrance facing the ward where the tiltyards and tourney grounds were. He passed the area near where the merchant stalls were setup just south of the archway which led to the Easternmost Ward and passed through. Eddard quickly made his way across the Lichyard towards the entrance to the Crypts.

Eddard walked along the darkened corridors until he reached Cregan Stark's Tomb, just past the newly constructed oversized sarcophagus and statue of a reclining direwolf which depicted the father of his current bonded direwolf, Cregan.  There was a statue of Cregan Stark standing between the two sarcophagi with Cregan Stark's being to the right. 

Eddard noticed that box-shaped base of the statue seemed to be a crude carving of the Old Tongue Rune for the word Ormrarr. The carving was more recent as if it was done in after the statue had been sitting there for a while as it's edges seemed sharper than the other smaller runes at the base of the statue indicating Cregans Stark's name and epitaph. Eddard pondered this for a moment. Dragons?   Eddard felt perhaps the answer lay inside Cregan's coffin. "Forgive me, Old Man of the North, for disturbing your place of rest, " said Eddard before sliding the sarcophagus lid on top to the right. He reached down into the sarcophagus and could feel something like the top edge of a chest at the bottom. He tried to move the lid further but it hit the massive support column at the end of the sarcophagus.

"Need some help?" a voice said behind him. Eddard saw his older brother Brandon.

"Actually, yes," responded Eddard motioning to the other end of the sarcophagus lid, "You get one end and I'll get the other."  Brandon nodded and the two brothers moved the massive stone slab onto the ground as gently as they possibly could, although it still thudded with a loud muffled boom.

"Barbrey said you ran off muttering something about Cregan Starks tomb. Came down here on a hunch," said Brandon Stark, "I wanted to make sure you'd be able to be there for welcoming of House Cerwyn, Dustin, Tallhart, Stout, Ironsmith, Glenmore, Moss, Slate, and Flint of Flint's Finger. Especially since all of those save for Cerwyn and Ironsmith border your land and will be working with you on development of the Sunset Coast."

Eddard nodded, "I know. Just had to see what was up with Howland Reed's Greendream. I .... Others Take Me, what is this?"  Eddard reached down and found a chest placed in the space available to the left of the feet of the skeletal corpse in the sarcophagus.  On top the sarcophagus was a sealed document which had been sitting there for quite some time"

Brandon stated, "I know what's in the chest as father put it there. Didn't know he left a note."

Eddard's eyes narrowed slightly looking towards Brandon as he nodded, "Would have been nice if you and father shared that with me sooner." Eddard read the inscription on the note, "This isn't father's handwriting under the seal. Someone used an old gold dragon coin to seal the note."  Eddard looked at Cregan Stark's skeletal corpse noting the odd positioning of the hands clasped behind the head.

Brandon saw it too, "Odd position to bury a lord in. Normally they're placed gripping the hilt of the sword placed on top of them. He looks almost like..."

Eddard said, "Every night we slept on the road walking up here after meeting up, Howland slept on his bedroll with his hands clasped behind his heads in the same manner. This is his handwriting in Old Tongue runes on the outside of the note underneath the seal is his handwriting as well." The seal itself looked like the three headed dragon seal of House Targaryen but an older version of it. He'd seen actually that seal on an old coin Lord Jon Arryn had showed him minted during the time of King Viserys First of His Name.

Eddard opened the seal on the note and saw many pages inside. He began reading the first page written in Old Tongue Runes:

Minn góð vinr, Eddard, 

Ek hafar sagórr skuldinn sem þurfur til munu segðumk, en þú Mayeigir haftímir til sjá allr ór sagarinn.  Ek munu thus begin með þessi ....

In his head he translated this to Common Tongue :

My good friend, Eddard,

I have a tale of the future which needs to be told, but you may not have time to read the story in its entirety. I will thus begin with this:   There is one set of events you need to prevent first of all. In the future, Lazoquo Ostelion and his henchmen Maelor set casks of wildfire all around certain areas of the First Keep. Somehow your father, Lord Rickard Stark, and your two brothers, Brandon and Benjen, along with several other lords and some of the guards were in there when the wildfire was set off, killing them instantly. The wildfire from what I heard  was still burning and dripped down into the crypts and burned for over a year.

You had become the Last Stark and Lord of Winterfell. The attack with the Wildfire was blamed on Aerys, but the real person behind it is most likely Royce Bolton possibly working with Vidar Tarraenos and his sellswords and using Vidar Tarraenos' ongoing affari with Queen Rhaella as a means of getting to King Aerys' pyromancers for the wildfire. I'm not positive whether Aerys was passively behind this or not. Based on my earlier greendream with Lady Barbrey involving Royce Bolton, he seemed very enthusiastic about living up to his namesake in burning Winterfell down, so my guess is this may have been mostly his plan. Vidar Tarraenos, despite being the man who was behind the Tyroshi Slavers who imprisoned you for so long, did not seem like the type who wanted such as he would have no motivation for the Starks' death. Vidar Tarraenos' real reason for sending Lazoquo and Maelor was to obtain the Dragon Eggs in the chest in Cregan Stark's sarcophagus. And his involvement with backing Royce Bolton may be more one of opportunity. He seems driven more by his relationship with Queen Rhaella than anything at this point.

Royce Bolton also has enemies. In part of my vision I witnessed your conversation with Vidar Tarraenos when he stated he delivered Royce Bolton to No One.  Your response was odd referencing the term No One with emphasis when you said No One would leave Vidar to his life as at that time he had left the slaver business which was an offense to No One.  Given what you told me about you removing a face from Royce Bolton whilst warged into that wolf, chances are Royce Bolton is wanted by the Faceless Men.

Eddard, the important thing is Ice and Fire must unite in order for all of us survive the Long Night and bring the Dawn.  I will explain more details on this subject later in this letter. But for now, you will need to prevent Lazoquo and Maelor and Royce Bolton from putting the wildfire into position in the First Keep and setting it off.  

.....

Eddard folded up the document and put it in his shirt, looking to Brandon. "I know exactly who Lazoquo Ostelion of Myr is and what he looks like.  Most likely he'll be attempting to infiltrate here as one of the merchants arriving  a short time after the arrival of House Karstark."

Brandon nodded, "Just point him out to me. I'm guessing our half-brother may recognize him since he's in the Company of the Rose.

Eddard's eyebrows raised, "Half-Brother?"

Brandon merely nodded to the affirmative whilst Eddard nodded with a shrug. Given the events of the past week, finding out he had a half-brother he didn't know about almost seemed mundane. Eddard refolded the documents, putting them inside his doublet, and put the chest back into the sarcophagus, after removing the dragon eggs and putting such in the leather bag he still had at his side from this morning.

"They look almost like large precious stones," stated Brandon.

"And that's how they look and feel to those who aren't descended from Old Valyria apparently," shrugged Eddard. "I'm going to hold onto these until we can find a more secure place to put them. Given what I've read in Howland Reed's note here, House Stark and House Targaryen will somehow need to unite before the Long Night. I have a uncanny feeling my friend's vision went further than merely trying to find out what those sellswords were up to."

Brandon nodded, "Winter is coming."

"Aye. That being said, let's get this back where it belongs," said Eddard motioning for Brandon to assist him in replacing the sarcophagus lid to where it was . With great effort they were done. Dusting themselves off they headed for the South Gate, arriving just in time for the ceremonies. Eddard noted along with his elder brother that their father was not exactly pleased with their near tardiness.

The ceremonies of Guest Rights and Oaths of Fealty went without incident, and was over in less than an hour.

Lord Commander Slate stated afterwards that his house will always be loyal to Winterfell through the Lord of Sea Dragon's Point. The Slates themselves were an interesting bunch. A mixture of tradesmen with the skills for smithing, masonry and mining with the discipline of soldiers. Lord Eddard noted this in his plans for the Sunset Coast. He was originally planning for the main garrison for his army to be out of Rillstone Harbor, but expanding Grey Harbor would be a better alternative due to the culture already in place at that port. 

Meeting Willam Dustin was less awkward than he had initially thought it would be. Although Willam was Barbrey's original betrothed, he seemed rather more satisfied with Unella Flint. Unella was similar to Barbrey in personality but was a lot more optimistic in her outlook and this seemed to fit well with Willam's relatively stoic personality.  Willam seemed very enthusiastic after a brief conversation with Ser Wendel Manderly regarding the proposal for a road going to Barrowton from Rillstone Harbor as well as an improvement for the route to the Kingsroad.

During the mid-day welcoming feast, Eddard sat down with the Lords to discuss the plans for the Sunset Coast along with his Castellan and two vassal Lords, Ser Wendel Manderly and Lord Commander Slate.  This was almost a continuation of the discussion he had earlier informally with Ser Wendel and Lord Rodrik Glover a couple days previous.

One of the serving maids brought around a couple of large pitchers of ale as well as several mugs for a large round table near a hearth in the corner of the Great Hall.Lady Barbrey and Lady Maege Glover left Eddard and Lord Rodrik Glover, apparently walking off to discuss Barbrey putting the Lady's touch on the Castle at Sea Dragon's Point. Eddard looked slightly confused as Lord Rodrik Glover looked at him, saying with a chuckle, "Don't question it.  Not worth trying to figure out when we have other pressing matters." 

Eddard sat down grabbing some ale. He was seated between Lord Rodrik Glover and Lord Commander Orthanc Slate. Orthanc himself was a severe looking man who kept his beard as clean shaven as the rest of his head. Dressed in black leather and iron ringmail with the relatively blank grey shield sigil of House Slate emblazoned on his doublet, Orthanc was considered a man who ran a very disciplined operation with Grey Harbor, almost like an army. Eddard made note of this upon meeting Orthanc after hearing Lord Rodrik Glover's assesment of the man. He was a sharp contrast to Ser Wendel Manderly, who, whilst a capable warrior and valued honor as much as Orthanc, seemed to be more of a diplomat than Orthanc. Eddard would notice the differences between the two over the next few years. 

With two very capable vassal lords with Ser Wendel Manderly and Lord Commander Orthanc Slate, along with a very capable Castellan and advisor with Lord Rodrik Glover, he was well supported as the Lord of the Sunset Coast.  Gathering around the table seemed to be almost every Lord who had interests and a stake in any operations by the Lord of the Sunset Coast - Lord Willam Dustin, Lord Helman Tallhart, Lord Harwood Stout, Lord Artos Glenmore, Lord Boros Moss, and Lord Justan Flint of Flint's Finger.  His older brother Brandon decided to also pull up a seat next to Ser Wendel Manderly.

Drinks were passed around and Eddard began, "I suppose all of you now know I am the Lord of Sea Dragon's Point now. This is a very powerful position for me and I intend to use that power for the betterment of the North. However, before I move forward with any plans, I must get to know the Lords under me as well as those whose lands are neighb__"

Lord Willam Dustin interjected, "Rumors of your martial prowess as well as the ... gifts the Old Gods have bestowed upon you have reached the ears of all in the Barrows, Lord Eddard Stark.  However, you'd do well to remember that we are not your vassals. "

Brandon Stark interjected , "Lord Dustin, you are correct. However, as I am heir to Lord Rickard Stark of Winterfell, and will be taking a more active role in governing the North, I will remind you that House Dustin is a Vassal House to House Stark of Winterfell."  After Lord Willam Dustin appeared to have no further objections, Brandon looked towards Eddard, "Continue, Lord Eddard Stark of Sea Dragon's Point."

"Thank you Lord Brandon Stark of Winterfell," responded Eddard formally. "As  I was saying ....  before I move forward with any plans, I must get to know the Lords under me as well as those whose lands are neighboring my own. As you all are well aware, there is ample development going on in my lands as far as three of the major castles and associated towns at Sea Dragon's Point, Grey Harbor and the most recent being the new Rillstone Harbor, which is combining the two villages of Sunset Shores and Westonbyrg on either side of the river mouth with a new town and harbor currently under construction.  The latter will be the seat of House Manderly of Rillstone Harbor which will be the second Vassal House to House Stark of Sea Dragon's Point. Ser Wendel Manderly will be the Lord of that Harbor."

Brandon Stark added, "In addition to the development on by brother Eddard's lands, Achyldenloch and the New Gift are being developed rather rapidly. My father and I have received news from House Umber and House Flint of the Mountains that planting will begin as soon as spring arrives. Estimated yield should be more than double what we're receiving in trade as well as part of the alliance agreement from the Riverlands through House Tully through Houses Bracken, Blackwood, Piper, Whent and Ryger. We'll be initially be using the extra harvests to offset the needs for the increases in population to the lands around Achyldenloch and the New Gift as well as the labor which will be incoming to Lord Eddard's Lands along the Sunset Coast."

Lord Tallhart looked curious, "Incoming labor?"

"The sons and daughters of Torrhen's half-brother have come home," said Brandon Stark.  "Half of this incoming population - around two thousand or so men who are currently soldiers plus their associated families - will be settling in the New Gift. I have already met with House Umber, the Mountain Clans and Lord Tormund Flint of the Mountains, who is currently Lord Regent of Achyldenloch until Lord Benjen Stark comes of age. We have had discussions regarding earlier this week after all parties had reached a consensus on the betrothal agreement between my younger brother Benjen and Lady Dacey Mormont-Glover. "

Eddard stark continued from his elder brother's point, "The rest will be settling throughout the realm although there will be a large group of the remaining labor being brought in to assist with the construction of Rillstone Harbor as well as assisting the reconstruction of Moat Caillin with House Reed of the Neck as well as any further needs for continuing construction of the harbor at Flint’s Finger. These projects initially will only have a thousand men for such. The remaining thousand or so will be put to work under Lord Commander Orthanc Slate in the quarries as well as on a construction project which will benefit our region of the North tremendously.  That project is of course roads."

Orthanc grumbled oddly in angry agreement, "Finally someone is bloody listening to my thoughts on being able to deploy troops quickly."

Eddard nodded, "It is not just deployment of our army. Although, in order to get the construction effort completed in a timely manner so we can begin seeing the benefits in both the transport of quarry material and lumber for construction materials for Rillstone Harbor and Moat Caillin with the existence of paved roads."

Boros Moss spoke up, "What about canals then? Easier and cheaper than ... "

Helman Tallhart countered, "That's fine for around Torrhen's Square and your territory on the southeast corner of the Barrows, Boros. But I've been out along most of Lord Eddard's lands. Rich in minerals for mining but the ground is a higher elevation than the rest of the region and the nearest river is the source Rillstone in the hills around fifteen leagues north of the ruins of Ryder Hall.  Although that leads me to the question which I'm sure everyone at this table would like to know: what are the planned routes for the new roads?"

Eddard spoke up, "Based on a discussion with my Castellan, Lord Rodrik Glover, and Ser Wendel Manderly the other day. One road that will be built entirely within my lands will be a road leading from Sea Dragon's Point to Rillstone Harbor ending at Rillstone Harbor on the Western side of the river mouth around the northwestern edge of the current Westonbyrg.  The road will fork once leading to Grey Harbor and the road's route will take it through current House Slate territory within less than a quarter league of the quarries."

Eddard continued, "Ser Wendel Manderly and I had also discussed the need of a road leading from Rillstone Harbor to the Kingsroad near Moat Caillin mainly for transport of materials for its reconstruction as well as transport of troops for defense in the future. However, there are two reasons why I would not go with a direct route from . The first reason, Lord Commander Slate, you will agree with me on in that Moat Caillin loses its defensive effectiveness if there is a major road other than the Kingsroad in its path. The second reason is we will be crossing other House's territories but such a road provides no benefit to those Houses and thus the North from a very direct route."

Eddard took a sip of his mug of ale, "I'm proposing two roads, both of which will be meeting up with the already existing dirt road running from the Kingsroad to Barrowton."

Lord Willam Dustin leaned foward with interest as Barrowton was mentioned. Eddard noticed this as he continued, "The First which provides a smooth route to the Kingsroad for my territory to the Kingsroad will start near the fork around Grey Harbor around the proposed road from Sea Dragon's Point to Rillstone. From there it will run along the edge of the Wolfswood ending at the midpoint along the road between Barrowton and the Kingsroad."

Eddard looked to Helman Tallhart, "That road will pass about a league's north of Torrhen's Square within your territory. We can factor in financing of a branch road which will lead to Torrhen's Square as part of the coinstruction costs, if that will be sufficient compensation for passing through your lands." 

Helmann Tallhart nods, "That is acceptable. I was actually about to ask for such. Assuming you're doing the same for House Whitehill and House Ryswell ?"

Eddard shook his head, "House Whitehill's territory is near but does not directly border the road's route actually since their border actually stops at the stony ridge which runs along the northern half of their territory around half a league south of the edge of the Wolfswood.  The forest south of that ridge on their territory is technically considered the Wolfswood. However, I will discuss with House Ryswell and House Whitehill any needs they may have with any roads passing through. House Whitehill may need a branch for conducting their normal business. House Ryswell will most likely benefit more from a branch coming from the second road I'm proposing given most of their territory is dedicated to their main source of income which is reflected in their sigil. I hope that answers your questions."  Helmann Tallhart nodded satisfied. Eddard began to notice that the Lords at the table even the ones relatively silent seemed to be relatively more open to the ideas being presented to them than he expected.

"The second road we're proposing will begin at Rillstone Harbor in the northeast of that town and run to around the ruins of Ryder Hall, then due east crossing Torrhen’s River at the narrow fords, then continuing east by northeast to across the Barrowstream two leagues south of  Barrowton and curving northwards to meet up with the already existing road from Barrowton to the Kingsroad in around the same place as the previous road.  This will cross the territories of House Ryswell, House Tallhart and House Barrowton. I think there may be a portion just on our shared bored which would cross your territory "

Lord Harwood Stout oddly seemed sto smile widely when Eddard mentioned the bridge crossing the Barrowstream. Eddard possibly thought perhaps that reaction was one more borne out of hope for the crossing to be closer or within his territory so as to earn a branch road to his castle much like Lord Helman Tallhart from the previous road.

Lord Willam Dustin nodded, "I'd request a change of route around Barrowton, Lord Eddard. Perhaps head north encircling Barrowton to meet with the current road between Barrowton and the Kingsroad with perhaps a branch leading into Barrowton from the west.  A bridge over the Barrowstream two leagues south of a major town seems just like a choke point for folks to be robbed by bandits."

Brandon Stark interjected, "Is there enough of a brigand problem that I should be addressing, Lord Willam?"

Lord Willam Dustin seemed hesitant, "This road will be a major route for trade through my territories. I'd rather the route run between the Barrow Castle and Barrowton, where my militia can ensure the safety of any travellers. A bridge two or more leagues south, I won't be able to do as readily as Lord Tallhart would be able to watch the bridge you'd be constructing at the narrow fords of Torrhen's River which is practically line of site  and last thing we need is someone wanting to set up shop like a Frey on the bridge and dig themselves in like a tick on the back of a old hunting dog. " Eddard and Brandon caught the subtle sidelong glance Lord Willam Dustin shot Lord Harwood Stout. Lord Harwood Stout seemed to shift in his seat slightly with Lord Willam Dustin's statement.

Eddard nodded, "Consider the proposed route changed then Lord Willam Dustin. I assume based on the amount of traffic that will be passing through your territory then I and the Lords of the Sunset Coast should be having further talks with you and my brother Brandon Stark as far as an alliance agreement?"

Lord Willam Dustin thought for a moment, "It's a little early given I've only just married Unella and you're awaiting signing your betrothal agreement to Lady Barbrey Ryswell, Lord Eddard Stark. However, Personally I would like you to keep House Dustin at the top of your list as far as any future fosterings and betrothals of our children. As far as more immediate trade agreements, we can discuss the details later during the Gathering."

Lord Eddard nodded,"Understood. As far as Moat Caillin is concerned, Lord Commander Orthanc Slate, I would like you to be available for discussion with Lord Alaric Reed when he arrives as far as the needs for Moat Caillin's reconstruction."

Brandon added, aside to Eddard but so the other Lords could hear,  "I'm going to have to discuss with our father, as well as yourself and your Vassal lords, who we're going to appoint as Lord Commander of Moat Caillin and who will be manning that fortress upon its completion."

Eddard nodded, stating a little more for the folks at the table to hear,  "I assume you also need my request for funds for the construction of the roads?"

Brandon nodded, "Yes. How much were you estimating? Roughly"

Eddard looked to Lord Rodrik Glover, who then looked to Lord Commander Orthanc Slate. Orthanc responded, "Quality roads of this length will cost a rather large amount of coin. Costs of the labor would be minimal if this is run as part of the peacetime duties of the army but assuming I throw all my men and the extra thousand incoming. Assuming we're going for fully paved with stones, perhaps three or four hundred thousand gold dragons for the first road along the wolfswood mainly as it follows a natural border and crosses no bodies of water so the drainage systems running alongside the roads are fairly simple. The higher cost is because the sheer distance covered ... close to two hundred leagues or more for each road, My Lord. And that is at least two or three years effort.  Around the same cost for the other one, perhaps a bit more as there's a bridge involved plus some a bit more surveying required to define the road's path."

Eddard nodded, "So around eight hundred thousand gold dragons for the roads then?"

Orthanc nodded in agreement, "That sounds about right."

Eddard looked at Ser Wendel Manderly and Lord Justan Flint, "Assuming we have similar cost estimates for Rillstone Harbor?"

Lord Justan Flint nodded, "Worked with my maester on that one. Total cost will be about two million gold dragons. That's just for the basic castle, the harbor, the shipyard and utility buildings for the shipyard, and the fortresses and support buildings for the garrisoon. "

Eddard nodded, "Scale back the garrison for the army in Rillstone to half, and we'll put that into the funds of expanding Grey Harbor's garrison as needed. I'm finding it most likely better if we keep the ground forces and army based out of Grey Harbor, which will allow Rillstone Harbor to be more of a Naval city. Would that be in line with your plans as well, Ser Wendel Manderly?"

Ser Wendel nodded, "Agreed. There are a few things which I would like also to budget for in Rillstone Harbor but the infrastructure has to be in place first. If it is alright with you, Lord Eddard, I'd like to bring some of the shipmasters over from White Harbor to begin planning for our naval capability on the Sunset Coast."

Eddard stated, "That's fine."

Brandon then stated, "So the funds needed will be around three million gold dragons, Lord Eddard Stark. I will be heading to the Iron Bank then after the Gathering."

Brandon caught the reference Eddard was making to the dragon eggs immediately. Brandon said "Understood, Brother."  For the next couple of hours, the various Lords spoke with both Eddard and Brandon about their concerns and rough agreements as far as what was discussed were written out. These rough agreements would be taken by Lords Eddard and Brandon to Maester Walys to work on transcribing them into formal documents legally binding House Stark and the respective House to an agreement.  At the end of this, the table began clearing as Eddard after talked briefly with each of the Lords at the table to see if they had anything further to discuss or required a private audience with him later on.  Lord Willam Dustin seemed to be the only one who wished to meet later but it seemed like more of an invitation to further explore ties between House Dustin and House Stark of Sea Dragon's Point.

As the table cleared, Eddard mentioned one thing to Brandon in regards to him heading to the Iron Bank, "Whilst you're there, we will need to secure five for the future to match the three I have to be delivered to Sea Dragon's Point by someone we both trust."

Ser Wendel Manderly looked at Lord Rodrik Glover stating aside, "Five million gold dragons? What in the names of the Seven would we be possibly build__"

Lord Rodrik Glover looked at Ser Wendel Manderly and stated, "I have a feeling that he's not referring to gold, Ser Wendel."

Ser Wendel looked slightly confused. Eddard noticed this and to quell speculation, Eddard immediately decided it may be time to really sit down with Ser Wendel Manderly. Lord Rodrik Glover and Lord Commander Orthanc Slate already were set in their roles and knew their place in the hierarchy of the Sunset Coast. Ser Wendel was new, and might need to be informed that what may work for House Manderly in White Harbor may not necessarily work for Rillstone Harbor.  "Ser Wendel, stay here for a moment. I think we need to have a conversation to ensure our ships are sailing in the same direction so to speak."

Ser Wendel nodded as the rest of the Lords departed.  Lord Rodrik Glover and Lord Commander Orthanc Slate politely waited for dismissal by Eddard until such was given. Eddard sought to put Ser Wendel at ease, "Lord Commander Slate, you stay as well. What I am proposing will require your insight as well. Lord Rodrik Glover, please do track down our better halves and make sure they haven't spent most of the budget for the Sunset Coast on decorating the Castle at Sea Dragon's Point."   Eddard figured to throw a bit of humor in there with a command to accomodate their wives as Castellan of the castle. Lord Rodrik Glover nodded taking the statement in stride with enthusiasm.

Eddard stated, "I know you intend to make the Rillstone Harbor essentially the White Harbor of the Sunset Coast, Ser Wendel, and I have no doubts that you have the capability of doing such. The problem however lies in environment. The Narrow Sea is well travelled and well protected by the navies of every port of calling. There are pirates admitted but they are limited in their territories. The Sunset Coast on the other hand has a big problem with the Ironborn. Rillstone Harbor will be ripe for the plundering before we even finish building it if we don't go about this the correct manner."

Eddard looked to Lord Commander Orthanc Slate, "Since we've build Grey Harbor and Sea Dragon's Point and you've essentially militarized the Stony Shore from just north of the Point of the Twin Islands to Seas Dragon's Point, how have the Ironborn raids been lately?"

Lord Commander Orthanc Slate said, "Fewer and far between. They're starting to get a little cockier however if they catch word of supplies coming in from inland to Grey Harbor or Sea Dragon's Point. I've sent a quarter of my army to the Saltspear as well to assist Lord Justan Flint with keeping Westonbyrg and Sunset Shores secure whilst he lays the foundations for Rillstone Harbor. We however are lucky that these are just the occasional reaver captain with a few ships just looking to make a name for himself or find some easy pickings northward. I daresay once Quellon Greyjoy passes, we're in for more trouble from his sons."

Eddard nodded, "How so?"

Orthanc stated, "The eldest son, Balon,  wants to go back to the old ways. Fancies himself becoming another like Dagon Greyjoy. His brothers go along with him to varying degrees. Victarion the more powerful and capable captain. Then there's the crazy younger brother Euron who is around Brandon's age. He's as much of a stone cold killer as you and your wolves are, my Lord."   This statement from Orthanc was chilling to Eddard.  "Luckily, the whispers, I've heard so far from the fishermen and some escaped thralls seem to indicate that the brothers are looking South at Lannisport and the Reach along the Mander, as they consider the North too much work for too little reward.   That will obviously change once Rillstone Harbor is built out and trade begins making it more of a lucrative target."

Eddard stated, "Exactly. So how do we ensure that we're prepared for the Ironborn once we have Rillstone Harbor's construction well underway and being finished?"

Ser Wendel Manderly stated, "Well, if we're going to begin building up the Navy as well as trade vessels, we'll have to not use the larger slower cogs but mainly stick with war galleys capable of engaging in a fight and being maneuverable as well as defending itself. What sort of ships do the Ironborn use?"

Orthanc responded, "Primarily longships, light and fast mainly used to get in and out fast, mainly for quick raids. They have some larger ships which they use mainly to transport booty and captured thralls...slaves for lack of a better term in my opinion."

Ser Wendel nodded, "We have a good supply of Ironwood as well as as the raw materials for building warships with rams. Assuming we're budgeting for this?"

Eddard stated, "Yes we are. As I said earlier I'd like to keep our infantry and essentially land soldiers based out primarily of Grey Harbor with smaller garrisons in Sea Dragon's Point as well as Rillstone Harbor. Rillstone Harbor will be primarily for our shipyards and Navy. I suspect my father and brother would also want it built up enough to accommodate all fo the North should we have to deploy any of the Northern troops south to aid Seagard and the Riverlands per our alliance." Eddard paused for a moment, "However, I don't want to merely deter the Ironborn.  Based on what you were saying, Lord Commander Slate, will have at least one engagement with them in the next few years. Most likely they will be the aggressor. I want to be in a position to make it incredibly painful for them."

Orthanc nodded, "Oh rest assured we can do that once they're on land. It's getting them at sea which is the hard part."

Ser Wendel noted, "We usually have a couple of lighthouses near Old Castle and Widow's Watch alerting us regarding incoming vessels. Usually it's so we'll know which ships to prepare for and plan for the assigned slips for the incoming ships to dock at, but they also alert on weather as well.  They've been used rarely to spot incoming vessels of a hostile nature."

Orthanc thought for a moment, "Perhaps talk to Lord Justan Flint?  We can get him to set up a similar watchpost at the Western tip of Cape Kraken just south of Blazewater Bay. I'd suggest also taking advantage of those larger islands flanking the mouth of the Rillstone, perhaps set up fortresses there that are not only watchposts but have some military capabilities as well. "

Eddard nodded, "Aye. Lord Commander Slate, it seems like you may have some ideas on how those island fortresses should be set up. I'd like you and Ser Wendel to work together on this, keeping in mind these will be support bases as well for the Rillstone Harbor's naval forces once they get built up."  He turned to Ser Wendel, "You have a great set of tasks ahead of you with taking over the construction of a major port as well as building up a naval capability for the Sunset Coast. If there's anything you need from me as far as anything including budgetary matters, do not hesitate to call upon me."

Ser Wendel nodded, "May the Crone give me the wisdom and the Smith give me the strength to see this endeavour through."   During this statement, he saw Barbrey approaching wearing a very formal gown in her house colors, bronze with crimson red and black trim and accents. Her hair was done in a more formalized version of the old style braids she had earlier when she had first met Eddard.  The giant direwolf couple, Cregan and Lynara,  trailed behind her as she approached. Eddard nodded to his two vassal lords silently dismissing them. Ser Wendel Manderly and Lord Commander Orthanc Slate walked out of the hall, nodding politely to their liege lord's betrothed as they passed.

"My mother house is due to be arriving very soon," stated Barbrey as she put her hand on Eddard's shoulder. "Brandon said you were still here meeting with Ser Wendel Manderly and Lord Commander Slate. We should be getting going to the South Gate."  Eddard nodded but remained silent for a moment. "Something wrong?"

Eddard shook himself out of it, "Sorry.  A bit overwhelming. Building actual paved roads reaching across the North from our lands to the Kingsroad. Establishing a naval presence on the Sunset Sea. Building the infrastructure to support it all along with a new town complete with harbor and shipyards."

Barbrey smiled, coaxing Eddard out of the chair to his feet, "Well then, welcoming House Ryswell and House Whitehill should seem easy by comparison."

BARBREY VI
Afternoon, 21st Day, 10th Moon, 280 AC

The sun was just setting and the courtyard of the south ward was darkening. Barbrey could see the reddish-orange hues of the setting son above the walls as she waited next to Eddard and their direwolves. Torches were lit to illuminate the area as the darkness approached and she saw Lynara and Cregan's eyes glitter in the torchlight as they approached her and Eddard to take their positions. :Lyanna stood next to Barbrey and Brandon next to Eddard. Dacey hand Benjen stood on the end with Shadow and two of the male direwolves behind him. Barbrey had a conversation only moments earlier with Dacey and Lyanna that Benjen's warging abilities are slowly catching up to his brother Eddard's.

The horn blew, indicating that the Outer Gatehouse had relatively large party passing through and were en route to the Inner Gatehouse. At that moment the gatehouse opened as House Ryswell and House Whitehill had arrived, with their banners displayed by their small entourages of five soldiers apiece: Lord Rodrick of House Ryswell approached along with Lord Raymun Whitehill accompanied by ten of their house soldiers apiece. Barbrey noticed slightly more in the number of soldiers accompanying her father and Lord Whitehill from the other Houses. 

Lord Rickard Stark and Brandon had approached both Lords as Eddard moved slightly to the side as the two direwolves behind Benjen changing position oddly until they were behind Eddard and Cregan. Barbrey noticed an odd site of Eddard's eyes gleaming much like the direwolves' did in the torchlight.  Lord Rodrick Ryswell adn Lord Raymun Whitehill approached Lord Rickard Stark and his son Brandon.

"Minn heimerr opnað til þú, Magnar Rodrick Ryswell," stated Lord Rickard Stark. The traditional greeting of a Lord to his castle in Old Tongue. Lord Rodrick Ryswell remained silent for a moment with an oddly haughty look on his face. The Lord Paramount looked slightly annoyed as Brandon put his hand on his father's shoulder and nodded slightly to his father, whispering something in his ear.

"My castle is open to you , Lord Rodrick Ryswell," repeated Lord Rickard Stark, this time in Common Tongue.

“I will lay down my sword at your gate and any evil intent behind, Stark”  responded Lord Rodrick Ryswell with a smirk, almost as if he did not mean the words he stated.

Lord Rickard Stark and Lord Brandon Stark looked rather annoyed as Lord Rickard Stark replied, "Welcome to Winterfell, Lord Rodrick Ryswell." 

Lord Raymun Whitehill looked rather nervous as Lord Rickard Stark stated the greeting in Old Tongue and he responded in kind respectfully. Guest Rights and the Oath of Fealty seemed to go without a hitch, delivered in Common Tongue. However, it was odd that there was some subtle disrespect coming from Lord Rodrick Ryswell towards Lord Rickard Stark. Barbrey assumed this may be that her father is assuming that House Bolton still had the upper hand or some element of surprise, although she was sure he would have heard about the massacre of the Bolton army by direwolves by now. 

After the Guest Rights ceremony had been undertaken by all the arrivals, House Ryswell'ss party as well as House Whitehill's was taken to their lodging for the Winter Gathering of the Lords.

Barbrey began to walk over to her father as she saw Maester Walys had arrived running with what appeared to be a raven towards Lord Rickard Stark and his sons.  Barbrey couldn't hear what they were saying, but their actions seemed to illustrate what was going on. Lord Rickard Stark finished reading the raven and a dark angry look came over his face, before he handed the raven to Eddard past Brandon. As Eddard looked over the Raven, she saw the wolf beginning to come to the surface with her betrothed. This did not seem to bode well. Cregan and his two pack brothers approached behind Eddard much as wolves would approach their alpha when they sense an emergency. Barbrey saw Rickard say a few words to Eddard who nodded, parting from his brothers and father with the three direwolves following behind.

Barbrey then continued onward and approached her father, taking him aside for the moment, "Father, I can understand being angry at being slighted, but foolish disrespect of one's Lord Paramount..."

Lord Rodrick Ryswell countered, "Our Lord Paramount has not arrived as ..."

Barbrey looked at her father, "You can't mean Rogar Bolton?"

Lord Rodrick Ryswell stated, "That is precisely who I mean."

Barbrey stated in a calm voice, "Considering my betrothed through a rather large pack of direwolves had massacred most of the Bolton army only a couple days ago, and Lord Roose Bolton is now acting Lord of the Dreadfort and had just swore fealty via raven to House Stark, disavowing himself of his father's and his uncles' actions,  I think you had best reconsider your position father."

Lord Rodrick Ryswell looked at Barbrey with an incredulous look as if she just stated she was converting to the Faith of the Seven and joining the Silent Sisters.   His expression grew pale as Barbrey's direwolf, Lynara, took her place next to her. Lord Rodrick saw Eddard approaching flanked by three rather large direwolves. Eddard gave Lord Rodrick Ryswell a brief stare which would have easily cowed the fiercest of the direwolves flanking him, before turning to Barbrey.

Eddard stated in a very controlled tone with a slight growl beneath the surface, "Ensure your father and his party are settled quickly into his chambers in the Great Keep. He is to appear in front of his Lord Paramount, Lord Rickard Stark, in the Lord's Solar in two hours." Barbrey detected a very subtle glance from Cregan to Lynara indicating his recognition of his mate. She detected the same from Eddard briefly towards her before he slowly walked off towards the Great Keep with his direwolves, joining his brother and his father en route.

Barbrey said in a very serious tone, "I pray to the Old Gods you are not complicit with Rogar Bolton's move against the Starks. If you are you may have damned our House."

BRANDON V
Sunset-Night, 21st Day, 10th Moon, 280 AC

"You seem obviously not as concerned as you should be, Brandon," said Lord Rickard Stark, looking towards his eldest son.  Lord Rickard Stark was angered enough to chew through iron.  His younger brother, Eddard, was restrained luckily via the reasoning Brandon had given him earlier. I think every man with Stark blood here wants to wring Rodrick Ryswell's neck this morning, thought Brandon. I swore even calm jovial young Benjen was even showing some annoyance but Eddard I'm guessing must have felt betrayed as I remember him thinking that Rodrick Ryswell was under more duress than he had been from Rogar Bolton.

Brandon stated, "Father, I'd like to find out that reason that Rodrick Ryswell acted the way he did. He's not a brave man by any means nor is he clever."  Brandon paused for a moment, looking over at Benjen who looked as if he was going to say something. "Benjen?"

"He seemed to behave as though you were no longer Lord of the North, father. It was really odd. Even his own vassal, Lord Raymun Whitehill, was taken aback by the behavior."   Benjen said with some concern, "I think Lady Barbrey was the only thing keeping Ned and the wolves at bay from her father. And Eddard was more angry than I've ever seen him."

Brandon saw his father nod in acknowledgement of Benjen's observation. At this time, Eddard entered the Solar about that time along with Maester Walys, the latter of whom took his seat dutifully, pulling out a stack of parchment and a quill with ink.

"Father, Ben, Bran," Eddard nodded as he looked to Lord Rickard Stark,"Lord Rodrick Ryswell is in the foyer of the Solar with Ser Rodrik Cassel and four guards."  Eddard took his seat afterwards next to Benjen. Brandon noted Eddard still looked angry enough to chew through steel. Brandon would not be the only one who recognized that look of an apex predator ready to attack as one which would be disturbingly unique to his brother Eddard. Lord Rickard Stark however would be the one to poke at the quiet but angry wolf.

"Eddard, I understand your anger. However, let us not let our wolf's blood cloud our judgement, eh?"

Brandon noted that some of the tension had left Eddard, but it was still there as his brother spoke, "Aye father, there's nothing I can do to change what Lord Rodrick Ryswell did. Theon's raven. The number of horses in the Bolton Cavalry at the clearing was three times what had been reported from Lord Roose Bolton and Maester Vorian's records and they were all branded from the Ryswell stables. Two hundred and fifty of the corpses identified with the Cavalry were not Bolton regulars, but were members of House Ryswell's own militia. It's treason plain and simple, but Barbrey would never forgive me if I ..."

Brandon saw the anguish on his brother's face and could only guess what was going on in his brother's head. He placed his hand on Eddard's shoulder briefly. Brandon thought for a moment, "You are not the one who committed the crime of treason against your liege and actively supporting another Lord in doing so."  Eddard looked at Brandon with narrowed eyes as Brandon continued, "You also will not be the one passing judgement on Lord Rodrick Ryswell, nor will you be passing the sentence. That will be for the Lords of the North during a formal trial, and for our father to pass the sentence based on the verdict."

Eddard nodded, still angry and somewhat defeated but accep, "And he who passes the sentence shall swing the sword."

Brandon looked to his father as Rickard sighed, "I suppose we should get this over with. Brandon, let Ser Rodrik Cassel know he can escort Lord Rodrick Ryswell in."  Brandon nodded and got up from his seat and walked to the door to the Solar out to the foyer beyond. As he stepped outside he quietly shut the door behind him walking over to Ser Rodrik Cassel who was still standing whilst Lord Rodrick Ryswell sat on a bench flanked by two of the larger more imposing guards under Ser Rodrik's command.

"My father's ready to see him," stated Brandon quietly to Ser Rodrik Cassel. Lord Rodrick Ryswell looked at Brandon with an angry sneer as Ser Rodrik and the guards escorted Lord Rodrick into the Solar. As they entered, Brandon procured one of the free chairs placing it directly in front of his father's desk around two and a half yards from the edge of the desk, as Benjen and Eddard had stood up to stand behind their seated father flanking him. Brandon took his place at one side of the desk as Ser Rodrik stood to the side, his guards flanking very close behind Lord Rodrick Ryswell.

Lord Rickard Stark addressed Lord Rodrick Ryswell calmly, "In case you have not been informed on current events, Lord Rodrick Ryswell. Lord Roose Bolton has declared himself Lord of the Dreadfort and head of House Bolton, loyal to House Stark after a parley with the commanders of a force of five thousand troops loyal only to House Stark of Winterfell.  The two thousand remaining troops under House Bolton's banners are loyal to Lord Roose and Lady Bethany Bolton at this moment."  The patriarch of House Stark paused for a moment before continuing, "I say two thousand remaining as the other two thousand five hundred were identified posthumously at a clearing of the Wolfswood at the southern foothills of the Northern Mountains. This was part of a force raised by Royce Bolton which was en route to Winterfell to besiege this castle. Fortunately, my second son Eddard and his unique relationship with the creatures of our sigil had routed this force completely before they could continue marching southwards."

Lord Rodrick Ryswell opened his mouth as if to say something but Lord Rickard Stark stated, "Choose your next words very carefully, Lord Rodrick Ryswell.  I received a second raven earlier today from a captain in House Karstark's guard that at least two hundred and fifty of the bodies from this force were identified as soldiers from House Ryswell.  Over sixty percent of the warhorses recovered had Ryswell brands on them, not Bolton. "  Lord Rickard Stark took a deep breath,  "This evidence does not exactly reflect our initial assumptions that you were under duress from House Bolton with your daughter Bethany as a hostage. Please, Lord Rodrick, explain to me why you should not be tried and executed for treason against your liege along with Rogar Bolton and his brother Royce?""

Lord Rodrick Ryswell sneered, "Treason?  That's a relative term, Stark. You will note that through my business I have just as much exposure to the South as you do. And I have to question why the Lord Paramount of the North would enter in a one-sided deal with another Lord who is barely holding onto his Paramountcy.  Is the North now going to be fighting Hoster Tully's battles for him?  You're already doing it right now from what I hear in entering negotiations with House Frey over that issue with House Blackmyre and House Charlton. "

Lord Rickard Stark's calm composure was beginning to show some cracks as Lord Rodrick Ryswell stated such. Brandon's biggest concern however was Lord Rodrick Ryswell was not wrong in his assessment of the state of the Riverlands. Lord Rodrick Ryswell continued, "If you were a true heir to one of the Kings of Winter, I would never have been able to go as far in negotiations with you as far as that comedy your son Brandon was playing with Barbrey. In fact, if you were looking for a Southron alliance you would have been better served by entering into an alliance with the Old Lion of the Westerlands or the Queen of Thorns' son in the Reach. The benefits would have been greater for us."

Lord Rickard Stark's eyes narrowed as Lord Rodrick Ryswell concluded, "And given I never was included in the plans for your improvement of the lands neighboring my own, I figured I might as well get behind someone who put the North first rather than sell the position of Lady Paramount beside his heir to a weak Southron house. Besides it's only a matter of time before the Crown discovers how you obtained the funds for this improvement. I overheard Osric talking about Harmond's expedition with Artos the Implacable beyond the wall. Came back with a bunch of Gold from Deep Lake. Most likely put there by the Good Queen Alysanne. Rumors have been flying about the rest of the money coming from the sale of something I'm sure King Aerys would be very anxious to get his hands on..."

Lord Rickard Stark slammed his fist down on the table. Brandon would not have been surprised his father was about to leap across the table and strangle Rodrick Ryswell himself.  He put his hand on his father's shoulders to stay him watched Eddard hold his hand up to both of them as he literally growled, "If you do not mind, I will handle this." 

Brandon noticed  Eddard let out a small growl as he took a deep breath, as he sat down on the front of the desk facing Lord Rodrick Ryswell.   The door to the Solar opened and Cregan along with his two pack brothers entered the Solar in a frighteningly quiet and graceful manner for such large predators.  Eddard motioned with his hand for Ser Rodrik Cassel and his guards to stand aside as the direwolves. Brandon realized this happened before with Eddard in the Great Hall a few days prior where Barbrey was able to bring him down. There was no Barbrey present but for some reason Eddard seemed more controlled.  Brandon also noticed that his father and youngest brother recognized the similar change in Eddard.

Eddard stated in a calm but forceful voice, "It's been almost three centuries since Torrhen Stark bent the knee to Aegon and his two sisters. The only reason he did so was the people of the North were being threatened with being burned alive by dragonfire and, unfortunately he did not have confidence that his half-brother's countermeasures against dragons would work. House Targaryen has no more dragons. The last one died out over a century and a half ago as a twisted deformed creature no larger than a small mouser and barely lived a few days.  As far as the gold from Deep Lake, that was part of a bride price set aside for Cregan Stark by Aegon Third of his Name for a son of House Stark to marry one of House Targaryen. Since that never came to pass, the money was left as compensation for the losses incurred by House Stark and the North during the Dance of the Dragons. Somehow it had been forgotten as the Wolves of Winter disbanded until Artos the Implacable found it again.  As far as the 'something' King Aerys would like to get his hands on, that will never come to pass. I have three in my possession currently which will be stowed away in the vaults of my castle at Sea Dragon's Point upon my arrival there. I will not be releasing them to House Targaryen anytime soon as the time ended decades ago."  Brandon watched as both wolves flanking Lord Rodrick Ryswell stood absolutely still but subtly bared their teeth. "It is a time for Wolves."

Brandon felt almost as if the temperature in the room took a dive, as Eddard continued, "House Stark is anything but weak. House Bolton felt just a fraction of the power we will potentially hold. Benjen is still developing as a warg, most likely he will be as powerful as I am. My future children with your daughter Barbrey, as well as Benjen's with his betrothed Lady Dacey Mormont, will also be powerful wargs.  That being said the most powerful Stark in the room right now is the one speaking to you. There are about three packs of direwolves whose territory is in the Wolfswood near the Northwest corner of House Whitehill's territory which I can have at your castle by nightfall tomorrow and repeat exactly what happened to the Bolton army in Ryswell Castle. I can end your entire House and the surrounding village of smallfolk as if they had never existed."

Brandon himself was getting chills from hearing Eddard speak. Benjen remained oddly stoic, although he looked towards his father briefly with a concerned look.

Lord Rodrick Ryswell remained with a sneer on his face although the fear seemed to be coming to the surface. Brandon saw Cregan and the other two direwolves alter their stance very slightly and bare their teeth with a low growl as Eddard stared at Lord Rodrick Ryswell. Eddard stated calmly, "Give me a reason why I shouldn't."

Lord Rodrick Ryswell finally broke in fearful tears as the dark furred wolf to his right let out a louder growl than it had intended, causing Lord Rodrick to go pale with fear, weakly stating , "Please don't harm my family."

Eddard looked to Brandon with a subtle nod of his head for Brandon to come forward. Brandon then saw his father look to Eddard then to Brandon in the same realization that he had just had. Ned knows he's viewed by some as potentially as cruel and unforgiving as the Kings of Winter had been, thought Brandon. He just played on Rodrick Ryswell 's fear to soften him up for father and I.

Eddard looked at Lord Rodrick Ryswell stating, "Tell us all you know regarding House Bolton's actions against House Stark as well as all you know regarding any external parties' involvement.."

Rodrick Ryswell proceeded to essentially tell everything about the plans House Bolton had for the North, essentially putting House Bolton in all the key Stark positions but keeping the development at a more leisurely level if at all. Royce Bolton was the one who initially made the contact with the Spears of Damnation given his dream to burn down Winterfell like the ancestors of his namesake, this time with actual success.

Rodrick Ryswell did confirm Royce Bolton had met with a man of Volantene origin who was the overlord of the the head of the Spears of Damnation. The meeting took place at the Dreadfort around the same time that the betrothal of Roose and Bethany was being discussed.  Eddard noted to Brandon that this was most likely Vidar Tarraenos. It was indicated by Rodrick Ryswell that King Aerys was most likely involved however as Rogar Bolton noted they and the Spears of Damnation had a meeting set up with a man named Garigus who was a prominent member of the Alchemists' Guild in King's Landing. This was their contact for the wildfire which would be used to burn down Winterfell.

Ser Rodrik Cassel returned sans guards with the towel and clothing and boots as Lord Rodrick Ryswell finished telling everything he knew.  Lord Rickard Stark looked to Ser Rodrik Cassel, "Take Lord Rodrick Ryswell back to the foyer. I will need to discuss his fate with my sons."

Lord Rodrick Ryswell rose silently as Winterfell's Master-at-Arms escorted him out of the Solar to the anteroom which served as the foyer for the solar. Brandon turned to his father, "Your thoughts on this father?"

Rickard Stark answered, "The information was very valuable. However, I'd still favor sentencing him to death and taking his head along with the Boltons."

Eddard stated, "This will tear apart House Ryswell.  Given his reaction to my threat, his sons were not privy to nor were they involved in his decisions. For fuck's sake, Roger is barely even Benjen's age, if that. He's not at the age of majority and given the named Lord Regnants of his other brothers will be executed."

Rickard stated, "So?"

Eddard stated, "I can predict Lord Commander Orthanc Slate and I focusing more on containing the chaos in the Rills from fights over successing with Ryswell in-laws backing one of the brothers or staking their own claims, and less on building up the defenses of Rillstone and roads for trade and transport of supplies to Moat Caillin."

Rickard nodded, "Aye, you make a good point. I do not want any of the Sunset Coast plans nor Moat Caillin's reconstruction interrupted unnecessarily. Any suggestions to what would the alternative be, Brandon?"

Brandon paused for a while and. after some thought, stated, "Lord Rodrick Ryswell will take the Black after confessing his involvement at the trial of Rogar Bolton. As part of the still unsigned betrothal agreement for Eddard and Barbrey, write up a new one for the normal bride price which was offered, plus an agreement that House Ryswell will be a vassal house to House Stark of Sea Dragon's Point."

Rickard Stark nodded, "House Whitehill will become a vassal by default of House Stark of Sea Dragon's Point as well.  I'd suggest also, Ned, you become Lord Regent over Roger Ryswell until he becomes of age, perhaps get a feel for who additionally in the RIlls also can best guide him into taking over for his father so we have a smooth transition."

Brandon added, "His cousin, Ser Mark Ryswell. Met him briefly during my fostering in the Barrows. Soft spoken and rather quiet but he'd give the Knights of the Vale a run for their money in combat prowess. He is also an honorable knight. Maybe not a Paladin for the Faith of the Seven like Southron Knights but he embodies their moral and ethical values."

Eddard nodded, "That would be the man I would want to assist Roger as a Castellan then if he has the experience for such. Additionally, I'll have Barbrey assist me on keeping the Rills functioning until Roger comes of age. I would further suggest maybe Ser Mark have the title as well of Lord Regent so he can perhaps assist Roger as Artos the Implacable had assisted grandfather Edwyle."

Rickard nodded, "That is wise as well. Then its settled."  Lord Rodrick Ryswell re-enterred the Solar with Ser Rodrick Cassel as Lord Rickard Stark spoke, "Lord Rodrick Ryswell, due to your honesty in your confession and sharing of information with House Stark on House Bolton, as well as my sons' concerns for the future of your House, as your sons should not be blamed nor should they suffer the consequences of your crimes agains your Lord Paramount, I am proposing the following ... "

Lord Rodrick Ryswell braced himself, "You will take the Black ror your crimes. Lord Eddard Stark wiill  become acting Lord Regent over your son Roger Ryswell until such time as a Lord Regent and Castellan is approved.  Ser Mark Ryswell has been suggested. This Lord Regent will rule along with your son until Roger reaches the age of majority.  House Ryswell will also be made a Vassal House of House Stark of Sea Dragon's Point. This is mainly to ensure stability in the Rills as well as prepare your son Roger to be the Lord he should be.  We will roll this agreement into the betrothal agreement between Lord Eddard and Lady Barbrey, setting the bride price initially at one hundred thousand gold dragons."  Brandon knew the extra gold dragons Lord Rickard Stark had thrown in were mainly funds to stabilize the Rills to be held in trust as well for Lord Roger Ryswell.

Lord Rodrick Ryswell looked to Eddard still with some fear. Lord Eddard stated to allay such fears, "No harm will come to your family as they will be mine own after I wed Barbrey."

Lord Rodrick Ryswell nodded, "Aye, cursed is the kinslayer."  He turned then to Lord Rickard Stark stating, "I accept your judgement and mercy upon myself and my House. I will abide by the sentence my Lord Rickard Stark."  Lord Rodrick Ryswell also agreed to the addenda to the betrothal agreement. Maester Walys sat with Lord Eddard, Lord Rodrick Ryswell and Lord Rickard Stark for quite a few hours finalizing the documents, as Benjen left with the direwolves for the Godswood.

Brandon left during a debate between Eddard and Rodrick Ryswell over the route of the proposed road from Rillstone Harbor through the Rills to which it was decided to let Roger Ryswell make the call on that as his first decision as a Lord.  Brandon headed down to the kitchens for a late night snack. As he was eating down there, Lady Barbrey and his sister Lyanna happened down into the kitchens en route back to their rooms, grabbing a small loaf of black bread, flagon of mulled spiced wine and some goblets on their way through the kitchens.

Barbrey approached Brandon, "I heard from Benjen that you had suggested my father taking the Black for his involvement with House Bolton's attempt at usurping your father's paramountcy, and made House Ryswell a vassal house of House Stark of Sea Dragon's point. Your father made my betrothed Lord Regent over Roger for House Ryswell until his age of majority."

Brandon nodded, after swallowing the current bite of kidney pie in his mouth, "Last thing you and Ned will need whilst trying to build up the Sunset Coast are skirmishes within what remains of House Ryswell in the Rills."  Brandon shrugged, "You can blame me for suggesting your cousin, Ser Mark, as Castellan if one did not exist already for Castle Ryswell."

Barbrey nodded, "Actually Mark's father was who my mother wanted originally for Castellan. That was before father's second wife chose Lord Andric Stout after Roger was born.  House Ryswell's been looking to replace him after the first two years as he's sort of just been filling a position without really doing anything or contributing. Ser Mark would be a perfect replacement."  Barbrey paused for a moment, "The Wall will offer my father a chance to redeem himself. I just wanted to thank you for that."

Brandon shrugged, "No need to thank me for doing what I thought was right."  Brandon thought for a moment before saying, "I think Ned may need your company more than ever after the events of today. He was put in a very difficult position today which brought the wolf out in him."  Brandon smiled as Barbrey nodded in recognition of the suggestion. He went back to eating his late dinner as his sister and future goodsister left the kitchens for their chambers.

Chapter Text

EDDARD VIII
Morning - Sunset, 22nd Day, 10th Moon, 280 AC

Eddard awoke surprisingly well-rested during the pre-dawn hours. Barbrey shifted in the bed slightly as Eddard sat up, his movement awakening her. She began some advances

"Where are you off to, my love?" she asked groggily.

"Houses from the Neck should be arriving. Lord Reed will be arriving," said Eddard in response. "Considering his son is Maester Walys' care still..."

Barbrey silenced Eddard mid-sentence with a passionate kiss. She broke the kiss finally from Eddard as Eddard sensed she was finished but was confused by the gesture, as Barbrey pulled the furs of the bed close and went back to sleep with a content smile on her face.  He looked over at Lynara who snorted briefly with a wag of her tail. Eddard got the sense that Lynara knew something that he didn't. His own direwolf Cregan opened an eye briefly and turned over as if tell Eddard not to get him involved. 

Eddard shrugged and pulled on his clothing quickly, donning a fresh light grey tunic and some dark leather riding britches as well as some heavy boots. After he donned his belt, he walked out of his chambers towards the stairs leading down the tower to the kitchens to get a quick breakfast.

The kitchens appeared to be a bustling center of activity as he arrived as they prepared some meals for the incoming crannogmen. The middday feast would be held slightly early due to their arrival. Eddard sat down at one of the bench tables to eat his breakfast which was a rather hearty one of several small venison and auroch sausage links along with three ducks eggs as well as some chopped potatoes fried in the drippings of the cooked sausage, a small loaf of black bread and a flagon of dark ale.  Brandon sat down and joined him along with his father, Rickard Stark, along with a smaller man who appeared to be a Crannogman.

Eddard, looked at the Crannogman, saying, "Lord Alaric Reed, I presume?"

The small Crannogman shared a good many common features with Eddard's friend Howland, save for the whitish-grey beard and his bushy eyebrows. His smile however was exactly like Howland's as was his good nature and sense of humor. "Aye, Hlioðrinn Stórrvargr I presume?" responded Lord Alaric Reed. The Quiet Direwolf? thought Eddard. I always thought I was rather talkative.

"Lord Eddard Stark will do," stated Eddard. "Or just Eddard or Ned, Lord Reed."

Lord Alaric Reed's smile dropped however. He looked to Lord Rickard Stark, "So I hear my son and heir isin the care of Maester Walys at the moment. What happened?"

Lord Rickard Stark looked to Eddard who began, "We went to the Heart Tree to see if he could find out any more regarding the Spears of Damnation and in particular their actual goals in bringing wildfire to Winterfell. I knew they were under Vidar Tarraenos, the overlord to the Tyroshi Slaver company who was responsible for the Slaver ring in the Vale. And that man does not hire them out for mere battles. Usually there's an ulterior motive."  Eddard took a deep breath, pulling out the parchment notes Howland had left him in Cregan's sarcophagus from the flat bag on his belt, "The Old Gods decided to show Howland much more than he had asked for."

Eddard handed Lord Alaric Reed the parchment as the Warden of the Neck and Lord of the Crannogmen of Greywater Watch read over the pages of the document with intense interest. During this time one of the kitchen staff brought Brandon, Rickard and Alaric their meals long with an extra flagon of Dark Ale and basket of Black Bread loaves. Alaric remained fixed on the document as Brandon and Rickard dug into their meals.

Lord Alaric Reed stopped reading, "By the Old Gods, I am stunned. Only one other greenseer has been able to do what Howland had done. The first was a Greenseer from a time before the Starks, before the Kings of Winter, almost to before the First Men came to this land. " Lord Alaric Reed sighed, "May the Old Gods allow him back to our realm after his slumber. My son is truly a Greenseer now.  However his visions disturb me...not a worry for today but years from now...There was a reason the Old Man of the North and Aegon the Younger wanted the Pact of Ice and Fire, past preserving Rhaenyra's line after the Dance of the Dragons"

Eddard nodded, "Aye. Winter is indeed coming."

Lord Rickard Stark interjected, "Care to enlighten me?"

Eddard merely stated, "I have the three dragon eggs you stashed in Cregan Stark's sarcophagus. I plan on holding those at Sea Dragon's point, that little impenetrable fortress built into the very cliffs at the point. From Howland's description in his note, his observations of the future involved him following initially Rhaella Targaryen in particular then her children as well as my children. Her house as well as ours will play just as big of a part in bringing the Dawn after the Long Night, in particular the one born of Dragon and Wolf forging the legendary sword Brimir ór ljós to defeat the King of the Others and bring about the Dawn. Dragons are just as much a part of the Targaryens as Direwolves are of House Stark. I do not mean to deprive them of that but the current Crown is not fit to have that sort of power returned to them."

Lord Rickard Stark bristled slightly, "Well at least that can be a barganing chip for ... "

Lord Alaric Reed interjected, "Bargaining, Shmargaining....this is a future of us all my son has seen! I would not trust a dragon in the hands of a madman who pleasures himself to burning people alive, anymore than I would trust a pack of direwolves in the control of a Stark who didn't care about his own pack first."

Eddard stated, "I'm not sure whether Aerys' paternal line will be the one whom Brandon, Benjen and I will be dealing with anyways, Father. The Eldest two sons of Rhaella are a lot like their fathers, but Daeron became King in Howland's vision."

Lord Rickard Stark thought on the statement for a moment, "Daeron's sire?"

"Vidar Tarraenos," stated Eddard, "And he is unburnt . I'm not sure about the daughter Daenerys, mentioned by Howland from his greendream, as she has yet to even be conceived, if she will even be born at all." Eddard chuckles darkly, "Frankly with changes like those,  I'm even not sure even Barbrey and I will have the same two sets of twins and a youngest daughter who resembles our half-brother's mother as well as our grandmother in more than just her name."

Brandon chuckled, "Relatively large pack there, little brother."

Eddard shrugged, "You never know, Brandon. You and Lady Catelyn may have end up with more heirs, spares and daughters than Lady Barbrey and I."

Lord Rickard Stark looked at Brandon Stark, "You told him about Theon's parentage?"

Brandon shrugged, "I told him about Theon's existence. Not his parentage specifically. Ned's best friend Howland is a greenseer, father. As if he wouldn't have found out eventually."

"At any rate, back to more immediate issues. Vidar Tarraenos I believe is after the Dragon Eggs for Rhaella. According to Howland's message, he loves her. She wants the dragon eggs as well. She knows we have it as does Vidar." Eddard said briefly looking to his father, "His sources watched Theon's mother and the Company of the Rose delivering the Stark Gold to you at the Iron Bank as well as eight precious stones in three chests to the Iron Bank. You kept one chest and put it in Cregain's tomb. I assume the other five are still in the Iron Bank?"

Lord Rickard Stark nodded, "Yes, they are."  Eddard nodded in acknowledgement before glancing to Brandon with a short look.

Eddard continued, "When Theon arrives I'd like to talk to him. He also can spot Lazoquo Ostelion who might be with the merchant convoys arriving tonight and tomorrow. We'll need to identify them and track them discreetly. I don't want to dispose of them until we know their full game plan including how they plan to get what they came for delivered."

Lord Alaric Reed asked , "What should we do with the wildfire?"

Eddard thought for a moment, "We need to put it out of reach of pretty much everyone including the North. Only use it may have is...."  Eddard paised fpr a moment, "Might be a weapon the Night's Watch could use against the Others. Perhaps store it at one of the more sturdy unused castles along the Wall?"

Lord Rickard Stark nodded, "We'll do that. We can have a convoy heading up with to Castle Black with supplies for the Night's Watch along with Lord Rodrick Ryswell and the others taking the black in half a fortnight. Sound good to you, Alaric?"

"Aye, My Lord Stark," said Lord Alaric Reed.  At that moment, a young soldier wearing the Karstark white sun sigil on his tunic over his light leather ringmail arrived with a message sounding rather out of breath. He queried the kitchen staff as he entered, the staff pointing in Lord Rickard Stark's direction. The soldier walked up to Rickard Stark and handed him a note.

Lord Rickard Stark spoke to the runner with a message, "Good work lad. Get yourself some food whilst you're here and rest from your journey."  The young soldier nodded before the Lord of Winterfell turned to his sons and the Lord of Greywater Watch. "Royce Bolton has been confirmed as being in the Bolton Convoy which should be arriving tonight just after Sunset.  Brandon, I need you to get Maester Walys and Ser Rodrik Cassel and we'll gather all the Lord in the Great Hall in two hours. I will need to make the announcement regarding the Bolton arrival and their trial."

Brandon nodded, "Aye father." 

Rickard looked to Eddard Stark, "I need you to bring a few direwolves back to Winterfell by Sunset. I'd like to have more than just your bonded wolf and his brothers. You had stated that the Dark One you had been warged into for defeating the Boltons had faced Royce Bolton directly before letting him go. I'd like to have that one and a few of his generals along so Royce Bolton will recognize them."

Eddard nodded, knowing what his father's plan was. It wasn't enough that the Bolton army was defeated. Rogar and Royce Bolton needed to know that it was House Stark that defeated them. "Aye, father."   

Lord Rickard Stark looked to Lord Alaric Reed, "I will be appointing Lord Osric Umber, Lord Beron Karstark, and Lord Wyman Manderly as judges with all Lords having a vote as the jurors.  Normally I would include you as one of the judges but since...."

"Since I'm going to be a witness, I will have to recuse myself," responded Lord Alaric Reed. "I understand. Lord Eddard once this business with the Boltons over I'd like to have a few words with you and your vassal lords regarding Moat Caillin and how you're going to get me my...."

Eddard replied, "Lord Commander Orthanc Slate and I will be doing some extensive roadbuilding across the Sunset Coast all the way to the kingsroad. I have a feeling we may need to be repaving a good bit of the Kingsroad down to Moat Caillin, but yes, Lord Alaric Reed. Moat Caillin's reconstruction is one of the more immediate needs for such mainly in transport of materials.  Keep in mind, Lord Reed, however that my focus may be more on the finishing of the construction of all roads as well as working with Ser Wendel Manderly and Lord Justan Flint on the construction of RIllstone Harbor as well as our fortifications on the Sunset Coast. As far as the specific needs for the amount of granite stone as well as timber needs, we can be address that as well. "

"Timber needs? You seem to be indicating you have that well covered," said Lord Alaric Reed somewhat surprised.

"House Whitehill just became one of my vassal houses as an indirect result of the issues with the Boltons," answered Eddard. "Any additional timber needs can be addressed through House Glover and their vassal houses. Only need I can see in that area would be Ironwood as House Forrester has almost a monopoly on that as far as the North is concerned, at least for our coast.  I know some vassal houses of House Hornwood and House Manderly have some ironwood sources in the southeastern and eastern forests of the North."

Lord Alaric Reed nodded, "Very well. Lord Bogg and I can discuss this further with you and your vassal lords. I have a feeling it will be a brief and fruitful discussion." 

Eddard and the rest at the table finished their breakfasts and the kitchen staff cleared the table. One very young kitchen wench tapped Eddard on the shoulder subtly as she grabbed his plate and before he knew it he had a rolled up piece of parchment in his hand. Eddard began reading the parchment, Lazoquo ēza iā lōgor isse umbagon rȳ eastwatch-by-the-sea skore kessa maghagon se drōma naejot  Zaldrīzesdōron. Se brōzi hen lōgor iksis 'Jelevre hen Zaldrīzes'. Eddard looked for the silent kitchen wench but she was gone by the time he finished reading the note. Lazoquo has a ship waiting for him at Eastwatch-by-the-Sea which will deliver the eggs to Dragonstone.  The name of the ship is 'Breath of the Dragon'.

Brandon noticed the note passing, "The eunuch's sending you notes?"

Eddard nodded, "I think our interests and the eunuch's seem to be aligned for some odd reason. Why would he be giving us this information?"

Brandon shrugged, "Maybe there's a third side? Vidar's, the Crowns, and whomever the eunuch works for?"

Eddard shook his head, "I'd suspect more plans within plans. This information will give me a means to send Vidar Tarraenos a message he will understand all too well. And the eunuch knows that I suspect."

Brandon asked curiously, "What would that message be?"

"Gereigir líðinnr í heimarinn ór Hlioðrinn Stórrvargr," said Eddard in a deadpan voice. Brandon visibly stiffened as did Lord Rickard Stark overhearing his statement and viewing the expression on his face. Do not enter the home of the Quiet Direwolf.  Eddard was essentially declaring a death sentence to any who wished harm on Eddard, his family, his House or his lands.  He was referencing a similar phrase : Do not enter the home of the Hungry Wolf . This phrase was rumored to have been carved in runes on the forehead of the corpse of Argos Sevenstar whom Theon Stark had lashed to the prow of one of his ships when he took his bloody vengeance on Andalos. It was rumored that this had made the Valyrians at the time consider the Northern region of Westeros as more trouble than it was worth for possible conquest. "Although perhaps "Gaomagon daor māzigon ezīmagon se lenton hen Lyka Zoklīo" might be understood better."

Lord Rickard Stark stated, "Is it wise to provoke him or the Crown?"

"The Eunuch would most likely advise both parties against reacting," stated Eddard. "There may not be some immediate threats afterwards, but this message essentially tells anyone with any designs against us to think twice. The other aspect is what I told you a few nights ago in your Solar father about the realm becoming very unstable if I were ever to come up in the line of succession to your position. Benjen and myself possess gifts which Brandon and Lyanna do not and those gifts give us great power such that..."

Lord Rickard Stark opened his mouth as if to ask why,  but Brandon finished the thought of his brother, "The position of power would be reversed from when Torrhen Stark was made to bend the knee to Aegon and his sister-wives, father. No dragons exist as far as those controlled by House Targaryen and Eddard and Benjen's control over packs of direwolves is the equivalent of such power. With Moat Caillin fully rebuilt plus a functioning navy on both coasts...."

Lord Rickard Stark finished, "The Crown would be faced with either a very costly war or realizing they would then be the Six Kingdoms. Would you declare yourself King in such a situation?"

Eddard remained silent for a moment, "No. But then again that would be the wrong question to ask, father.  The right one would be: Who would benefit by putting the Seven Kingdoms in that situation ? If anything happened to you or Brandon, I would view that as a declaration of war by those responsible and previous alliances will not stand in the way of my vengeance." Lord Alaric Reed shuddered at Eddard's final statement as he knew exactly what was going to happen. Eddard looked at such curiously as if a predator studying something odd.

The tension was interrupted by the more musical tones of some feminine voices joining the group. Barbrey sat down next to Eddard giving his shoulders a squeeze causing Lord Alaric Reed's expression to change to one of a relieved grin. Lyanna sat down next to her father along with a curly haired woman, short of stature with greenish-grey eyes and bouncy dark-brown curls with a slightly sad expression on her face.

"Is my Konungr ór Vetr  growling too much again?" said Barbrey playfully as Eddard turned in her direction and she stole a quick kiss, sporting a mischievous smile.

Eddard's expression softened immediately looking briefly before stating to Brandon, "Now that we have the information, I will discuss the details of the plan with you later once I have ... neutralized the threat."

Brandon nodded as he leaned back. It was obvious with Barbrey's continung interaction with Eddard is she would be the only one in the world who could have any success at containing his fury if angered. 

Eddard returned a quick playful kiss to Barbrey before asking,  "Where are Cregan and Lynara?"

Barbrey took a deep breath, "Left them in the Godswood with the other four direwolves and Shadow.  Apparently Shadow has a new friend who's been hanging out with Dacey, a very young albino female with these deep blue eyes. Showed up late last night at Hunter's Gate all alone. Dacey's named her Snowbear. I think she may be bonding with it like I did with Lynara, as Snowbear follows her around in much the same way."

Lord Alaric Reed seemed pleased with this, "The Old Gods smile upon House Stark."

"Howland was right Lord Reed. He is a direwolf" said the young Crannogwoman with the dark brown curls.

Eddard looked over at the girl, "You must be Lady Jyana. It is a pleasure to finally meet you, given how much Lord Howland seems to talk about you. I'm sorry for ..."

Jyana looked at Eddard, shaking herself out of her distant look to a more friendly visage,  "It's okay, Lord Eddard. Maester Walys said he's pretty much sleeping, can't find anything wrong with him other than he seems to be in a deep still sleep. I'm just hoping the Old Gods allow him to wake soon." Jyana smiled briefly, "By the way I met your direwolf Cregan. He's very sweet."

Eddard raised his eyebrow looking at Brandon briefly as Barbrey interjected, "Cregan saw Lady Jyana wandering around the Godswood and, from what I could gather from Lynara, he must have smelled something familiar to Howland upon her. He brought her to the Maester's tower earlier today so she could see Howland before Maester Walys chased the three of us and Cregan off."

Lyanna added, "Too many visitors.  Strange too. Some woods witch from near the Crag arrived to pay her respects to Howland before she was heading north to some place she called Blóðúlfr Hagi."  Eddard's eyes grew wide as did Lord Alaric Reed's. "She spoke mainly Old Tongue and Barbrey seemed to be the only one fluent enough to follow her dialect."

Barbrey nodded, looking slightly sheepish, "Oddly the woods witch kept calling me Ygertha. She told me that there are several woods witches from all over Westeros converging on the clearing where the Bolton Army was ambushed by the packs of direwolves controlled by you, Eddard. Apparently a new Weirwood tree has sprouted there. First naturally occuring one in ... Gods know how long...."

Eddard looked at Brandon and his father, "I remember you saying that Theon, our half brother, had said something about the area needing to be sanctified after the massacre and the fact Royce Bolton killed Weirwood Wylla there?"

Brandon nodded as did their father. Rickard stated, "He said so much in one of his reports to us. Blóðúlfr Hagi ?  Gods above and below, the woods witches are already calling it the Meadow of the Bloody Wolf."

Eddard frowned slightly as Brandon said, "Well let's just hope the bards don't come up with some Gods-awful dirge that they feel they have to play everytime one of our family enters the room."

Rickard Stark looked to Brandon, "If you're referencing the Rains of Castamere, it had its uses to Lord Tywin Lannister in reinforcing to the Lords under him in the Westerlands the price of defying their Liege Lord. Songs like that are passed along with through the smallfolk and sung at taverns and brothels. They have a habit of becoming a reminder to the Lords coming from those they rule over which reinforces the occasional reminder of such from their Liege Lord."

Brandon nodded, as Rickard continued, looking at both Eddard and Brandon,  "They also become a warning to those outside that Liege Lord's realm, but will also shape how the Liege Lord is perceived. Given how word is spreading, our actions regarding the trial and sentencing of Boltons the next few days will affect such as well. "

Eddard kept his mouth shut on the subject of Tywin Lannister as did Lord Alaric Reed. Howland's note did not paint a favorable picture of the Old Lion but how much of that was due to the circumstances of that timeline was speculation.  He did however remember Howland mentioning something regarding a raven to his father, "Speaking of Lord Tywin Lannister, what was his proposal regarding a deal regarding the Sunset Coast, father?  He sent a raven. I believe."

Lord Rickard Stark looked at his son somewhat suprised, as Brandon shrugged, "It was about to come up eventually, father."

"What was your response to the Lord Paramount of the West, father?" asked Eddard rather pointedly. 

"I let him know that you had yet to truly settle into your lands and set up your rule and that you would get back to him," stated Rickard Stark.

"And when were you going to tell me this, father? Brandon?" replied Eddard. "When was the raven received?"

Rickard Stark stated, "I would not want someone like Lord Tywin to sink his claws into the ... "

"You let me worry about that, father. However, Given what I'm reading from Howland's note, he's the sort who will take slights very seriously," stated Eddard very seriously. "Before I head to the Wolfswood, I will be getting with Maester Walys and sending a raven personally to Lord Tywin Lannister, noting a similar reason and apologizing for the delay in responding to him, requesting a fortnight to assess my lands and the current state of development before moving further along with planning of the trade alliance between House Stark of Sea Dragon's Point and House Lannister of Lannisport via raven. "  Eddard took a deep breath before looking to Brandon, "Assuming everyone is attending that Tourney at Harrenhal I keep hearing about that's happening next year, hopefully the Sunset Coast will be far enough along in development where we can seriously begin negotiating any trade alliances with the Westerlands. That also gives me a chance to solidify the status of our current alliance with the Riverlands as far as trade with Seagard through House Mallister, so I can get Ser Jason Mallister and his father's input as far as dealings with the Westerlands. Since his brother Gerion has been travelling this far North already, I will extend Guest Rights to him if he should arrive whilst I am at Sea Dragon's Point. I'll need to inform my Castellan and senior staff about this of course, and we'll cover this after the Bolton trial."

Eddard looked to Barbrey briefly then to his father and Brandon, "The important thing you may wish to consider are worst case scenarios as far as the Crown when dealing with alliances. Lord Tywin Lannister commands a stronger presence than Lord Hoster Tully, as far as any military alliance is concerned, as he has more solid unified front with his Lords and the realms they rule. "  His gaze remained on Brandon but the look was more for his father's benefit, "That is what I am attempting to do as well with the control over my territory as well as my relationships with the neighboring Houses . Assist you my brother in having as unified a North as Lord Tywin has with the Westerlands"

Brandon nodded to the affirmative, briefly looking to his father.  Eddard turned to Barbrey before addressing the table, "I'll be headed to the Godswood to gather the direwolves with Cregan and his brothers, after sending the raven to the Westerlands. I'll be stopping by Lord Rodrik Glover's chambers informally on the way out to let him know so he can inform Lord Commander Othranc Slate, Ser Wendel Manderly, and Lord Raymun Whitehill regarding such."  It was unsaid that he needn't inform Lord Rodrick Ryswell given his current status. Eddard thought however that Barbrey may need to take the role of advisor for House Ryswell's role informally whilst they arrange for Ser Mark Ryswell to be brought up to speed.

Eddard got up and gave some polite exiting salutations before heading to the Maesters' Tower.  

Eddard spent some time sitting next to the unconscious form of his friend who lay in the bed in the guest ward of the Maester's Tower. He relayed to the sleeping Crannogman how he met Jyana finally and she is every bit as beautiful and affable as Howland had described. Eddard stated he knows he had to pay a price for the greendream to the Old Gods but Eddard prays that it will not be too high a price, that Howland will return to be amongst those who love him and enjoy his wisdom as well as his company. Maester Walys came in an hour through the visit to note that he was trying to keep the visits short.

Eddard had mentioned he needed to send a raven to Casterly Rock to answer a raven sent to his father regarding a proposal for a possible trade alliance along the Sunset Coast.

Maester Walys around this time had informed him that Lady Barbrey had given him a drawing the day before of a potential sigil for their House, House Stark of Sea Dragon's Point. This was during the long meeting he had with the various Lords regarding development of the Sunset Coast.  Eddard japed that he had thought she and Lady Maege were busy discussing furnishings for the castle. 

Maester Walys showed him a roughly designed but functional stamp showing two seated direwolves flanking the rearing horse of House Ryder which was underneath a large left facing direwolf's head. It was notable that the Stark sigil had switched orientation around the time of Theon the Hungry Wolf from left facing to right facing and the seated wolves were an informal some of the minor branch houses of Stark which stemmed from some of King Eddard II Stark's third and fourth sons intermarriage with the daughters of the Warg King. Barbrey had put a lot of thought into the sigil for their House.

"Does it meet with your approval, Lord Eddard?"

"Very much so, Maester Walys," stated Eddard. "I'll need parchment and a quill and some ink and of course some sealing wax"

"Right away, my Lord," replied the Maester.   Eddard got to composing the informal letter to Lord Tywin Lannister. He was very calculated in his writing to indicate a position of power on his part but to indicate he acknowledges the superior position in the strata of Westerosi society of Lord Tywin Lannister as Lord Paramount of the Westerlands as well as recognizing his accomplishments.  Eddard ensured he made a reference to Beron Stark and Tybalt Lannister's past mutual partnership against the ironborn.

Eddard signed the letter with his usual signature, but added the old tongue 'glyphs' symbolizing Hlioðrinn Stórrvargr.  He stared at the signature, wondering why he had done that other than something compelled him to do so at the time. 

Eddard then sealed the letter with some spare bluish wax with the new seal Maester Walys had provided him.  As he handed Maester Walys the letter to deliver to Casterly Rock via raven, Maester Walys was holding a raven with the sigil of House Arryn, addressed from Maester to Maester, and stated, "Oh by the way, I thought you might like to know that your good friend Ser Denys Arryn will be leaving Gulltown in a couple of days for White Harbor  with his wife Lady Aemma Arryn nee Waynwood. The Maester of the Eyrie sent me a list of Ser Denys' requiremnts for his stay in Winterfell and his work with your brother, Brandon."  This put a smile on Eddard's face. It would be good for Barbrey to meet his first real friend from the Vale as well as his wife, Eddard had thought, although they may already be in Sea Dragon's Point by the time of their arrival.

Eddard left the Maester's Tower and made his way back into the Great Keep and out the Glass Gardens, heading towards the Godswood near the Guest House entrance.  Upon entering the Godswood he saw his younger brother Benjen and his betrothed Dacey sitting near one of the larger trees watching Shadow and Snowbear playing with one another. Eddard could tell, by the way they were seated and the expression their faces, that his younger brother was testing his warging abilities along with Dacey getting used to her own, granted by the Old Gods due to her new bond with Snowbear.

Eddard smiled briefly before he looked over to find Cregan seated with his two brothers and their mates around 20 yards away from his brother and future goodsister. Eddard merely looked over to them and called with his mind, Cregan, Darkfury, Winterstorm, With me.  The three male direwolves hopped up and padded towards Eddard, folowing him as he turned to leave the Godswood.

They returned to the North ward of Winterfell and departed via the Hunter's Gate. Eddard stopped halfway between the Winterfell and the Wolfswood's treeline and looked to the direwolves. Through his Warging he was able to speak to them and have them understand.

"Cregan, seek 'Dark Second Son of the Seeker's Mate's Brother' and his generals, the alphas from his fellow packs, and return with them to Winterfell by sundown. Dark Fury, Winterstorm, assist your brother Cregan,"  

The direwolves all nodded save for Winterstorm who cocked his head to the side, "Why Alpha-Hairless One?"

Eddard was about to indulge the direwolf with an answer as Cregan answered for Eddard, "The hairless ones who defiled and killed the hairless chosen messenger of the Gods who speak to us through the white barked trees with dark leaves. Our Alpha will be bringing them to justice. 'Dark Second Son of the Seeker's Mate's Brother' will want to face the one he had spared as well."

Winterstorm seemed to accept the answer as all three direwolves quickly ran for the treelines.  Eddard took that moment to look at his direwolves' speed and realized that they were as fast as a good sized charging warhorse during that moment. It was during that brief moment he reminded himself of the great power he possessed with essentially being as powerful. He had to remind himself however that with great power came great responsibility. Lord Denys Arryn had told him so much after he had broken several of Ser Halys Coldwater's ribs and his leg during a misunderstanding during a spar Eddard didn't realize he was a part of.

You are a fierce warrior, very few can match you, Eddard Stark, Denys Arryn had said. But with this power comes great responsibility. With the gifts given to you by your Old Gods and your martial prowess, it is evident that the Warrior and Stranger will work through you, but ensure that you are also guided by the care of the Mother, the wisdom of the Crone and the justice and honor of the Father. You may not believe in the Seven, but they have plans for you as much as the Old Gods. I see before me a great Lord and friend, not just a powerful fighter."   Eddard realized that, even though Ser Denys Arryn was no longer able to be as effective in knightly combat as he was previously due to the accident which had lamed him, he was more of a true knight than most and epitomized the values behind his own House's words. On matters of honor and how to behave honorably, Denys Arryn was the man he went to for advice moreso than even his foster father. 

There were things which Denys and Eddard had disagreed on regarding this, mainly as fat as battle tactics. Eddard tended to take the long view of battles in regards to how wars should be fought, stating that battles are not some tourney sparring, his opinion shaped by that of being a trained pit fighter where showing any sense of knightly gestures of honor meant hesitation which meant death. Eddard would argue often with Denys amicably that the idea behind war was not giving one's life for honor and one's house but making the opposing army do such.  Denys had told Eddard he was getting dangerously close to treason when he had stated that the Crown's actual power disappeared when the dragons left, the power which was left in their wake was old agreements after the Dance of the Dragons ended with only four dragons still alive, only two of which were actually not wild and had been tamed.  The power which was left was old alliances which grew out of the Regency, bolstered by the Starks themselves under Lord Cregan Stark, and assisted the Crown in keeping their hold on ruling over the Seven Kingdoms. Of course, it was downhill from there with the alliances with the crown falling apart and growing more distant and the infighting beginning with the Blackfyre rebellions. The War of the Ninepenny Kings did somewhat unite support for the Crown but this was short-lived as the current King Aerys' own delusional nature drove the Lord Paramounts originally backing him to look to alliances to preserve their own status quo which was established from the common cause during that war.

Eddard however did remember Denys Arryn had privately stated that he agreed with his assessment on the Targaryen's power, noting that when King Aerys II Targaryen crosses the line far enough that Lord Tywin Lannister resigns from being Hand, they should begin preparing for the worst.  His father, Lord Jon Arryn, and Hoster Tully must have seen the writing on the wall when they began to form their own alliance.  Of course, his great grandfather Willam and Willam's brother Artos the Implacable had begun planning to prepare the North towards self-sufficiency before then.

Eddard somewhat lost in his thoughts wandered around the perimeter of Winterfell southwards towards Wintertown. It was still early morning and he had some time to kill before the direwolves all arrive back at Winterfell and he has to prepare for the arrival of the Boltons at Sunset. As he arrived at the outskirts of Wintertown, he headed down the street. Already there were several of the seasonal residences not already inhabited by Northern smallfolk being used by merchants from the Riverlands, Vale, and even some from as far south as the Reach and Dorne. As it was shortly before midday and the walk through the winter cold had caused him to burn through the hearty breakfast he had eaten earlier quicker than he had anticipated, he decided to head into the Smoking Log Inn for perhaps some ale and a bowl of stew.

Eddard enterd the Inn and was greeted by a serving wench. He gave the woman his order and she brought it by.  Eddard devoured the stew rather quickly before nursing a small loaf of black bread and ordering a flagon of ale. The woman returned with the ale , noting that a man standing at the bar had just paid for his meal. Eddard raised an eyebrow as that was fairly odd given he himself was a Lord in his own right and could afford such. As a rule the Starks had always pair for their own meals, drinks, goods and services in Wintertown as it was a way of giving back to the community of smallfolk which supported them.

Eddard looked at the man. He was dressed in what appeared to be a Tyroshi style of burgundy-colored light leather armor, with brigandine cuirass on. The man was clean shaven but his hair was died a flamboyantly bright purple.  The moment Eddard Stark saw the man's uniquely shaped face, a very sharp and angular and with a seemingly permanent mischeivous smirk, Eddard unlatched the loop on holding his sword to its scabbard.  Eddard recognized the face, it was Irrys Anerin, a member of the Tyroshi Slaver Cartel which had held him captive years before and one of the higher ranking underlings of Vidar Tarraenos.

The man seemed to also recognize Eddard as Eddard approached him. Eddard noticed two other men in th inn who seemed to be watching his move. He considered them however not to be involved with Irrys as one seemed to be wearing the stiff modestly cut clothing made out of fine material frequented by Westerlander merchants and the other was wearing the garb of a lower ranking Septon and had features reminiscent of a Green Fork Riverlander, possibly related to those around the Twins.

Eddard had his hand upon Irrys' throat quicker than he could react as he stated in High Valyrian, "Nyke should ossēnagon ao paktot sir syt skoros ao gōntan naejot nykēla se tolie isse se Vāle!"

Irrys smiled and stated in an odd cadence in Common Tongue, "A man would not be able to kill Irrys Anerin, as Irrys Anerin has been already claimed by the Many Faced God." Eddard became relatively confused at Irrys given his unusual cadence. A typical flamboyant Tyroshi speaking as if he were a faithful member of Lorathi cult of Boash seemed to be rather contradictory and a bit unsettling.  Irrys continued, motioning to himself, "A man is no one, as are the a merchant and a septon in this establishment."

Eddard's blood seemed to turn to ice as he backed up slowly, noticing the Westerlander merchant and Rivrlander Septon now standing down the bar behind Irrys. Irrys continued, "A man has donned the face of Irrys Anerin to get the attention of a man known as Eddard Stark. A man wishes to let him know that a man named Royce Bolton owes the Many Faced God a face. No one is here to deliver what is due the Many Faced God."

Faceless men, thought Eddard. Three of them. This can't be someone hiring them. The price would be outrageous. 

The man who looked like Irrys then walked away from Eddard towards the door as followed by the Westerlands merchant. The septon moved towards Eddard, saying in a quiet but soothing voice,  "No one came from slaves as a man named Eddard Stark was once. We know you wish to send a message to a descendant of no one's historical oppressors. The Many Faced God requires only a face.  No one will contact you again when it is time for a man named Royce Bolton to pay a debt owed."

With that the septon left the inn quietly, leaving Eddard to down his mug of ale before filling up another from the flagon.

"I know everyone's going to be facing the Bolton's at Sunset, brother,  but at least do so sober," came a familiar voice from behind him.

Lyanna Stark appeared from behind him and held an empty mug forward as Eddard took the hint and filled it. Eddard mainly just sipped the second mug of ale.  "Just had a realization that we're not the Northern Lords are not the only ones who would rather see Royce Bolton meet his maker," said Eddard to his sister. Lyanna looked somewhat bewildered by the comment but thankfully shrugged it off drinking her ale.

"Jyanna and I had a talk with Barbrey after visiting Howland in the Maester's Tower," said Lyanna. Eddard looked at his sister, curious as to what the issue was. "Lord Rodrik Glover noted that the temperature seems to be getting warmer as of late. And that will mean one thing as far as the direwolves are concerned as they become more active now that Winter is ending."

Eddard nodded, "I see. The Wolfswood will be more active with Direwolf activity. I will have to be..."

Lyanna interrupted, "Lynara and the other two female direwolves will be going into heat with the first spring. That could be as soon as two or three moons. Barbrey being bonded with Lynara might make this an issue."

Eddard took a deep breath as Lyanna continued, "Barbrey told me she wants to be officially wed by the time this happens. I think she's nervous about having a ceremony and organizing such. She's been discussing perhaps marrying on the Isle of Faces next year and have Howland and Jyanna initate the ceremony but that would be when we all head down to Harrenhal."

Eddard sighed, "At the Winter Gathering of the Lords there will be announcements of betrothals at the end. We can just have the wedding then."

Lyanna folded her arms in front of her, "I think her worry is having a legitimate child with you and Maester Walys' supply of Tansy is getting low with the Winter Gathering of the Lords. We have a couple of merchants coming with a large bushel of raw herbs which need to be prepped and dried from Runestone and Gulltown in a fortnight, but I have a feeling in a sennight we're going to have quite a few Snows being conceived along with a few heirs, spares and daughters. Frankly I'd like to have some available on the side soon and before we go to the Tourney at Harrenhal. I'm looking to be claim my stag and his...."

Eddard nodded before seeming to be remembering something, "Orys.

Lyanna looked curious, "No. Robert. He did state he wanted to name our first child Orys if it was a boy or Argella if it were a girl. Did he tell you?"

Eddard couldn't bring himself to let her know what was in the note regarding the future, a future he'd rather not see happen: Rhaegar's rape of her, her death to childbirth for the bastard Jon, Robert's sentencing to the Wall, both her sons' tragic deaths along with her good-daughter Arya and unborn grandchild.  Eddard forced himself to lie, although not very well, "I think he might have mentioned it once to Denys or I."

Lyanna knew it was a lie but she didn't pursue the details further. She looked down into her mug before pausing, "Father said he asked you to bring the direwolves which killed the Bolton army into Winterfell. Will they be...."

"They are anything but tame," said Eddard. "But the safety of all present will not be an issue. Father wanted them there as an added intimidation factor towards both Royce and Rogar Bolton."  He paused for a moment, "I think the real reason may be more to make it look to those outside of House Stark as well as outside the North that the attack on the Bolton army was ordered by him."

Lyanna said to Eddard, "I had a feeling about that. Does it bother you Brandon is going to be the Lord Paramount of the North?"

Eddard took a sip of his ale, "Not really. I'm going to have enough to deal with regarding building up the Sunset Coast and now a possible upcoming trade alliance with the Westerlands. Last thing I need to do is have to deal with Southron politics on top of it all."

Lyanna smirked, "That's the second lie you've told me in the past few minutes. It's not Southron politics that bothers you, dear brother."

Eddard growled slightly, "I am the second son, Lya.  You do not want to see any situation where i am the top in the line of succession to be the Lord Paramount of the North.  That will mean father is dead and Brandon has died as well with no heirs. Barring acts of the Old Gods such as a plague like the Spring Sicknet or some other natural tragedy which befalls our familly, this would most likely be at the hands of those outside the North."  Eddard looked to Lyanna seriously and pleadingly, "Both you and Barbrey have seen me get slightly angered at Brandon provoking me and later towards my future goodfather when I found out about his active assistance to Rogar and Royce Bolton.  Can you imagine how angered I will be if someone killed members of our family?  Can you fathom what the outcome would be on those behind their deaths? Their Houses?  "

Lyanna stood there listening closely, Eddard continued, "A good friend of mine told me with great power comes great responsibility.  My responsibility should focus on doing what I can do to build up the North west of the Kingsroad along the Sunset Coast.  and serve Brandon's line in Winterfell.as Barbrey and I start our own line on the Sunset Coast."

Eddard paused for a moment as Lyanna took it all in, nodding, "About Orys...."

Eddard became evasive on such,  blurting "Arya."  Lyanna seemed to become slightly confused as he stated, "The name I was thinking for a daughter if I had one. It would fit too if she turned out much like Grandmother from House Flint of the Mountains or our half-brother's mother Arya Wolfmother Snow."

Lyanna smiled, "I have a feeling I'd like your daughter named Arya if she's like those she's named after when I meet her in the future."

Eddard looked at Lyanna, "So what are you doing here by the way, other than ? I'm just killing time waiting for our direwolves to return from the Wolfswood."

"You got a raven from the Eyrie," replied Lyanna

"Maester Walys told me earlier that he's departing for Whiteharbor from Gulltown in a few days with his wife Aemma if that's what this is about. Assuming this is from Ser Denys?"

Lyanna shook her head, "No. This is from Lord Jon Arryn."  Lyanna handed him the raven with the falcon seal of House Arryn with his foster father's signature clearly visible at the seal's border.  Eddard opened the raven:

Lord Eddard Stark,

Your father, Lord Hoster Tully and his brother Brynden, myself and the Lords of House Royce, House Waynwood, and House Corbray had all fought together as comrades during the final war agaist the Band of Nine, ridding the Seven Kingdoms of the Blackfyre menace to stability of the realm. It is my fear that this stability may be at its end.  Your father will not say this as the thoughts and rumors of the South do not spread north of the Neck.  There is a growing concern amongst those in the Vale that, with your rediscovery of your Northern roots since your freedom from captivity, you may not be as sympathetic to those South of the Neck including those realms with current alliances with the North.

Since your father's request for my second heir Ser Denys Arryn's assistance with getting Brandon up to speed with elements of Lordship which he is lacking in, there was an implication that you have considerably more influence over your brother, the heir to the Lord Paramount of Winterfell, than was expected. This coupled with some ugly rumors (which had just reached my ears an hour before I began writing this raven ) regarding an insurgency of House Bolton and your role in countering such. This is echoes of the rumors of the bodies of the involved slavers and sellswords found near where my heir Elbert had found you, which appeared to have been mauled by red wolves from the local forests. 

My second heir, Ser Denys, vouches for your honor and continued friendship towards those of the Vale, but there are those within the Vale who remember the mistake Ser Halys Coldwater made with you and fear you may not hold the same values as those who honor the values held by those who are anointed knights in the Seven Kingdoms. The Lord Paramount of the Stormlands shares my sentiments on this as does Ser Brynden Tully. 

I do have a solution however.  I do hear that you will be attending the Tourney at Harrenhal alongside your brother Brandon as well as your sister Lyanna who will be meeting her betrothed, the Lord Paramount of the Stormlands, at the Tourney. If you can spare some extra time afterwards in the Eyrie to speak with my Lords as well to re-assure them of your good intentions towards those South of the Neck and the continued alliance of the North to the Vale and the Riverlands, this would go along way to putting any unease for those in the Vale, Riverlands, Crownlands, and South with the second son of Lord Rickard Stark to rest.

Yours as High As Honor,
Lord Jon Arryn, Lord Paramount of the Vale, Warden of the East

Eddard grumbled, "Lord Jon Aryrn is hinting at me taking the vows as a knight."

Lyanna states, "Well that's a good thing isn't it?"

Eddard states, "It's a warning. Take the vows as a knight to quell the fears of the Southern Lords and those near the Crown. He's wanting me to go to the Eyrie to reassure his Lords as well as your betrothed that I'm not going to eventually tie them to the prow of a war galley like Theon the Hungry Wolf did with Argos Sevenstar.  There's also the implication in the raven that Brandon's under my control."

"Is he?"

"No," said Eddard slightly angered at the implications by his sister asking.

"Has he disagreed with you at all since you both got back from Maester Walys' after beating each other senseless in the sparring yard a few days ago?" countered Lyanna. Eddard had nothing to say, "The only independent decisions I've heard of him making was him resolving the issue with Barbrey's house caused by her father's crimes. His suggestion of him taking the Black seemed to be based more around your worry of having to deal with the the chaos brought on by the consequences of Lord Rodrick Ryswell's actions than what father or him should have done which is take his head with Ice alongside Rogar and Royce Bolton when they get sentenced. Also if you sent that Raven to Casterly Rock, you're going past your father and brother's direction. Father doesn't want anything to do with the Lord Paramount of the Westerlands for some reason. You should be respecting that."

"Father's choices in that is inadvisable. You should know ...."

"It's still not your choice. At best you should have pulled Brandon aside and asked him first. If Brandon had told father and advised him of the same it would have been a different story."

Eddard was speechless at the suggestion as Lyanna held out her hand, "May I read the raven to see what it said?"  Eddard complied and Lyanna looked it over, frowning as she nodded. "As a side note, although I understand his actions, I'm going to have some words with my betrothed on this one for not letting me know his position on this. My suggestion would be to just worry about the Sunset Coast development with you and your Vassals. Leave the rest to Brandon and father."

Eddard growled slightly before relenting,  "Very well."

"And you should really forget about that message you're going to send to whomever on Dragonstone. That's essentially dictating  "

Eddard pulled Lyanna closer to him at the bar.

"That I will not do."  Eddard said in a low growl as he noticed oddly the contrast in color in his vision seemed to dwindle. He gripped Lyanna's upper shoulder with one hand and the edge of the bar with the other and continued in a low angry whisper, "Vidar Tarraenos took eight years of my life away from me. I was thrown in a cage like one of Rogar Bolton's dogs which he uses to hunt down the small folk, beaten and starved and had to kill like an animal for my survival. Now he wants to get  fucking dragon eggs and burn down my family's home as cover. All so he can give such to his lover said dragon eggs so she can bring dragons back to her house."

Eddard snorted in disgust as he felt a very odd pressure in his cheekbones and nose. He was still angered however and needed to get out his statement to his sister, "Queen Rhaella Targaryan and her whole fucking line owe House Stark for their very fucking existence. The Winter Wolves, Cregan Stark taking charge of the Kingdom during the Hour of the Wolf, our blood spilled during those years fighting for Queen Rhaenyra's line. And what reward did we receive from those silver haired cunts?  Ignored pleas for assistance when Dagon Greyjoy decided to start raiding what are now my lands as well as what is now Lord Tywin Lannister's, only to have both of our ancestors, Beron Stark and Tybalt Lannister die needless deaths. So I, unlike father, am paying attention to our great grandfather Willam and great uncle Arto's initial plan for the North."

Eddard heard an odd sound of the wood on the bar as he gripped it but dismissed such as he continued, "So ... No....the Targaryens do not get any of the fucking clutch of eggs laid by Vermax in the cave near the source of Winterfell's hot springs. We sold nineteen of them anyways with the help of the Company of the Rose to make most of House Stark's fortune now in the Iron Bank. The remaining eight I will be moving to the vaults at Sea Dragon's Point."  Eddard's jaw felt odd as he felt his lower jaw shift slightly as his voice took on that of a hoarse deep growl, "I will decide on whether a Targaryen is worthy of consideration to be gifted with one of these dragon eggs. And it will definitely not be with this generation of them."

Lyanna stepped back from Eddard with a look of fear on her face. Eddard swore he could smell the fear on his sister more readily. "Eddard...your face...your hand ... you ... "  Eddard looked down at the arm with the hand gripping the edge of the bar and lifted it up, looking at his hand in an odd wonder.  His arme seemed more muscular and slightly longer and oddly had some odd  very fine grey hair on them.  His fingers seemed longer and thicker at the knuckles as he gripped the bar. Eddard then pulled his hands off of the bar only to see that sharp claws the color of dragonglass protruded from the tips where his fingernails had been.

He put his hand up to his face it felt odd. As he opened his mouth he felt some rather pronounced canines and incisors which would be more at home on a wolf than a man. Eddard took a deep breath. He grabbed the mug and downed the rest of the ale.  He briefly growled to Lyanna, "I am sorry, dear sister. I love you and you're the last one I should be showing this side of myself to." 

Lyanna nodded silently with a concerned nod. Eddard put his hand on her shoulder gently before he departed the Smoking Log Inn, "I need time to think on this. I'll be heading to the Wolfswood to collect the direwolves for the arrival of the Boltons. I will be arriving through Hunter's Gate prior to the arrival of House Bolton."

Eddard walked towards the treeline of the Wolfswood directly from Wintertown. Eddard had come to the conclusion that Human society was different from the Wolves' and he had just realized he never truly had adapted to such even after his captivity.  He would spend the hours of the afternoon contemplating the best course of action as a Lord, past the planning for various projects. Eddard was glad for Lord Denys Arryn's impending arrival as his was a friend's advice he sorely needed at the moment.

Chapter Text

LYANNA III
Sunset, 22nd Day, 10th Moon, 280 AC

Lyanna watched as her older brother left the Smoking Log Inn. She let out a breath as the door closed behind him and looked at the bar where Eddard's hand had been. Four long scratches in the wood, made more prominent by the contrast between the dark varnish and the lighter wood underneath. The look on her brother's face reminded her less of her brother and reminded her more of one of the kennelmaster's dogs when you got too near the full feeding dish during their sunset feeding.  She had just watched his very shape change in front of her to something that was not quite man and not quite direwolf but something in between. 

Lyanna drank down the rest of her ale and finished what was left of the flagon of ale Eddard had left before leaving the Inn. Lyanna spent some time merely trying to digest what she saw when Brandon arrived with the Greatjon Umber as well as Lord Rodrik Glover and his wife Lady Maege. Barbrey seemed to arrive slightly behind the group along with Ser Wendel Manderly and Lord Commander Orthanc Slate. Benjen and Dacey arrived with Shadow and Snowbear in tow.

Brandon nodded to the Greatjon and his brother's Castellan and wife before walking over to the bar where Lyanna was standing. Benjen saw Lyanna as Dacey took their youngling direwolves to the table where her mother and stepfather were seated with the Greatjon. He stated, "One moment, Lady Dacey.  as he walked towards his sister.

Benjen looked at Lyanna, with a look of concern, "What's wrong, Lya?"

Lyanna swallowed the rest of her ale before answering, "Nothing wrong with me, however something's definitely wrong with Ned."

Brandon asked, also curious, "What do you mean?"

Lyanna pointed at the four deep gouges on bar next to her, "Ned did this with his fingernails....hands ... claws... "

Benjen merely whistled, "Looks like Ned's gone full skinchanger just like Little Alys' mum." Lyanna looked atThere's a lot of information about the myths of some wargs undergoing physical changes in the library at Sea Dragon's Point.

Lyanna remembered the tale her younger brother referenced from when she was younger and Old Nan would tell them stories before bedtime. The tale was Little Alys with her Crimson Hood. Sent to visit her grandmother and encountered a firece wolf. Her grandmother attacked and she was saved by the brave huntsman and kennelmaster from Winterfell. When she was past the age of being told bedtime stories by Old Nan',  Lyanna had read a few variations in the Winterfell Library of the tale where the huntsman was a Greenseer from the Crannogs or he was a woodsman from Deepwood Motte. It depended on the locale. The original story had a bit of a twist which had been changed sometime shortly after Aegon's conquest where the wolf and the grandmother were separate characters to enforce the 'always listen to your elders' moral to the story. There have been debates, Benjen further explained as he had read in some of the books on the subject, as to whether some of the changes in the children's tales were due to the growing influence of Andal and Valyrian based ethnicities now freely travelling to and through the North after the conquest.  Nevertheless, the original story had a more tragic ending as after the hero character of the huntsman had vanquished the wolf saving the little girl, it was found that the wolf was the grandmother herself. 

Lyanna said after some thought, "Barbrey's probably the only one who has the chance of keeping this in check,":

Brandon nodded in agreement, "This morning I did see such as she showed up after the discussion regarding the .... er ...ormr ægarr."  Brandon had one of those rare occasions where he shifted to Old Tongue. This was with good reason however as dragon eggs probably was not a phrase one would want to have overheard by the wrong ears.  Brandon continued, "What set him off with you Lya?"

"I told him he was not behaving according to his position in the family and in the North," said Lyanna. "I told him that he overstepped his bounds with sending a raven to Lord Tywin Lannister on a possible trade alliance with the Westerlands. If father had reservations and you also did regarding such, there would be a reason he wants nothing to do with the Westerlands."

Brandon looked at Lyanna with a look of concern, "He sent the raven?  I'll need to ask him what he included in the statement. I'm assuming it was pretty general and non-commital, but if anything else was stated hinting that there may be a possibility of an alliance, that may be a problem."

Lyanna and Benjen leaned closer. Benjen asked, "How so?"

Brandon took a deep breath before answering, "I found this out actually this morning talking to father. Back around the time the alliance agreement had been signed with Lord Jon Arryn of the Vale for Eddard's fostering, he had just returned from Braavos and was in mourning from mother's death still. He decided to move towards a Southern alliance to keep the Crown in check. His initial thought was to approached Lord Tywin Lannister for a similar alliance to what was struck with Lord Hoster Tully, either a betrothal of Lyanna to his eldest son Jaime or betrothal of myself to his daughter Cersei.  Tywin had struck down both offers, the first that he would not send the 'light of the west' as he called his daughter to be the wife of a savage and the second because the future Lady of the Rock needed to be a civilized and cultured one.  Not the nicest way of refusing an offer and he didn't make a counteroffer such as fostering."

Lyanna nodded, "Well that explains father's reluctance for any sort of alliance with the Westerlands. But why would he refuse his daughter to be the Lady of Winterfell?"

Brandon nodded, "I don't know, although the more I think about it, I can understand myself and his daughter not being betrothed. From what I heard, his wife, Princess Loreza Martell, and Queen Rhaella were very close so most likely it would have been either Cersei or Loreza's daughter Elia who would end up being Crown Prince Rhaegar's betrothed. I'm guessing when Elia became betrothed to Rhaegar, it was only a matter of time before Cersei would be betrothed to Daeron."

Lyanna said, "So father went to Hoster Tully and you ended up with Catelyn and I was betrothed to Robert Baratheon to secure an alliance with the Stormlaands. And after being insulted by Lord Tywin Lannister he wanted the door closed to the Westerlands or at least to Tywin Lannister."

Brandon nodded, "And depending how Eddard answered, this could signal a divide in the North to those in the South."

Benjen stated, "But Eddard's our brother. He would never..."

Lyanna countered, "Brandon is the eldest and father is still Lord Paramount. Eddard may be alpha over the packs of direwolves he controls as well as the lands he's been given. But Brandon is father's heir."  She looked at Brandon pointedly, "You two never really resolved anything between you two. You just caved in Brandon to keep the peace."

Brandon protested, "I did not. I.... As far as Vidar Tarraenos and that business, I trust Eddard's direction regarding that issue since he knows the man better than I. I'll have a talk with Eddard regarding the other issues."

Benjen offered, "Perhaps I should come along with you when you do have that talk, Brandon."

Lyanna said, "Perhaps I should too."

Benjen looked at Lyanna, "About internal Northern politics, you will have very little say in the future once you are the Lady of Storm's End. You may be able to influence the relations between Brandon and Robert, the North and the Stormlands, but the relations between the Lord Paramount and his lords should be kept within the proper realm. It should just be us three as well. I would suggest not including out betrotheds as well in the discussion as this is something we have to work out as brothers and fellow Lords."

Lyanna looked positively hurt, "What are you...?"

Benjen stated, "I wish to make sure that Eddard doesn't attempt to usurp my authority when I come of age with Achyldenloch and the lands which I control, Lya. The North is more than just the Sunset Coast and Eddard whilst a powerful Lord is only one Lord in the many that make up the North."

Lyanna stated, "Well at least you could include Barbrey in on..."

Barbrey walked over leaving Ser Wendel Manderly and Lord Commander Orthanc Slate conversing with the just arrived Ser Donnel Locke and Lord Halys Hornwood and his wife, tapping Lya on the shoulder, "Include me in on what?"

Brandon stated, "You saw Eddard this morning, Barbrey, I think he may have overstepped his bounds by sending a raven to Lord Tywin Lannister, depending on what was said in the raven. I found out father's reasoning for not replying quickly to Lord Tywin Lannister's ... "

Barbrey smirked, interrupting, "Let me guess. Sometime in the past, Cersei Lannister would have been my goodsister instead of Catelyn Tully, and Tywin basically called Lord Rickard Stark or yourself a 'Savage Mutt from the North' or something similar when approached about an alliance and possible betrothal?"

Lyanna watched Brandon and Benjen look at each other in astonishment as Barbrey stated, 'Lord Alaric Reed showed me his son's notes on his greendream. I extrapolated from events in the future with Tywin's grandson insulting my firstborn during his betrothal to the daughter of the Lord Paramount of the Reach.  I figured the apple didn't fall too far from the tree."

Barbrey looked at the three, "Regardless of the contents of the note, my best guess is Eddard won't be meeting with Lord Tywin Lannister directly at first. He'll be most likely sending a representative northwards, most likely his youngest brother Gerion Lannister northwards to gather him any intel to give him an advantage in any trade deal. He's also looking at our military capability. Lord Commander Slate informed me that a smaller ship flagged out of Lannisport has been spotted going northward to Sea Dragon's Point."  Barbrey shifted slightly in her stance as she continued, "This vessel attempted to dock at Grey Harbor thinking it was just another port. They were greeted by one of the platoons of troops on duty for harbor security at the time. The Lord Commander noted that the Lord who was aboard the ship as well as his crew seemed very nervous when leaving, as they saw the aftermath of what Lord Commander Slate and his men do with any Ironborn landing nearby. This happened about three moons ago and he thought nothing of it at the time noting there had been similar smaller ships out of Seagard, Farcastle, even as far south as Blackcrown who have docked at Grey Harbor and were sent on their merry way."

Brandon looked at Lyanna and Benjen, "Seeing a few rotting skeletons of pirates and wrecked longboats will not cause concern for the Lord Paramount of the West. Gerion Lannister and his crew landed at a military outpost which reflects that the Sunset Coast is not so vulnerable. We've been able to cover the buildup for the past couple of decades through Lord Commander Orthanc Slate for at least fifteen of them. It was bound to come out."

Lyanna watched as Benjen looked to Brandon, "Do you think word of what Eddard did with the Bolton army has travelled south of the neck?"

Brandon shook his head, "Too soon. It's only been a few days. Maybe a fortnight from now they'd know and that would most likely be through traveling bards' songs if any surface based on the event. This is why father wants Eddard to bring those direwolves tonight, to shape what ends up traveling South of the Neck regarding events with the Boltons."   Brandon thought for a moment, "There is the rumors and tales of how Eddard escaped from his captivity, put that with the expectations of a lot of Northern Lords plus whatever Lord Tywin was able to get from the Eunuch before his resignation as Hand."

Benjen said laughing slightly, "So he's going off of rumors?"

Brandon looked to Benjen, "My thoughts are Gerion Lannister had first spotted development on the Sunset Coast and made a few surveys. Once news of your moving from becoming the Lord of Sea Dragon's Point to Lord of Achyldenloch became public and news of Eddard's return to the North as the Lord of Sea Dragon's Point became known, Gerion was sent to do further investigation. I can guess that he's reporting back that the North is anything but weak on the Sunset Coast and that it is more of a militarized zone than a trading zone at the moment until Eddard gets far enough in the development where it is economically viable"  He looked to Barbrey, "I think Tywin's also waiting for something after what you told us Lord Commander Orthanc Slate said had spooked him."

Barbrey stated, "I don't see the Ironborn attacking us anytime soon, not under Quellon Greyjoy."

Brandon noted to Barbrey, "It's his son you have to worry about. It's well known that Balon wants to turn to the old ways even now and he's being encouraged by his brothers. They're just waiting for his father's reign to end before he attempts anything."  Brandon sipped some of his ale before stating, "House Greyjoy won't attack us now, but that's not to say some of the other houses of Ironborn won't make an attempt. Most likely not House Harlaw as they seem more 'progressive'  (for lack of a better term) and more amenable to working with the Seven Kingdoms than the other Ironborn.  I'd put my gold dragons on one of those from Old Wyk who've conducted large raids in the past like Drumm or Stonehouse."

Barbrey said, "Ser Wendel said that Eddard is also expecting that and wants to put us in a position where the Ironborn look South for reaving."

Brandon smiled as he stated, "The two large islands on either side of the Rillstone mouth, we were discussing fortifying and making outposts. Eddard is charging Ser Wendel with building a Navy as well."  Brandon said calmly, "Eddard is planning to build one hell of a military presence on the Sunset Coast. Slate's already created a fairly formidable and disciplined army which is growing." Brandon paused for a moment."I'll discuss this with father. I don't think there will be any concrete offers or overtures coming from Casterly Rock until that military is tested."  He looked at Lyanna briefly, "What were his words to you before he left?"

Lyanna thought for a moment, "He was angry , stating how Vidar Tarraenos' responsibility for his captivity being treated worse than Rogar Bolton''s hunting dogs. He then began ranting on how House Targaryen owes their very continued existence to House Stark, citing what the Old Man of the North did for them, that all we got from them was being ignored when Beron Stark asked for help against Dagon Greyjoy. Ned then started stating that he will be the one who decides who..."

Brandon interrupted, "Back to Dagon Greyjoy. What specifically did he say?"

Lyanna stated after some thought, "He said that the Targaryen Crown pleas for assistance when Dagon Greyjoy decided to start raiding the North and the Westerlands, only to have Beron Stark and Tybalt Lannister die needlessly. He also added that unlike Father he intends to follow our great grandfather's plan for the North."

Brandon's face appeared to be one of astonishment. He looked to Barbrey and Benjen, then back to Lyanna, "I think I know what may have been in the Raven. Eddard's definitely gone too far. Not that I disagree, but he's definitely overstepped if he referenced Beron and Tybalt to the Lord of the Rock." 

Barbrey asked, "How so?"

Brandon replied, "By doing so, he basically in not so many words said , 'Fuck the Crown. I intend to rule the coast north of your borders.'  Given the North's now public alliance with the Riverlands, and, in my opinion, the fact the North is the 'thumb on the scales' that is keeping House Tully in power as Paramount, that rule extends down to Lord Tywin's sea borders, so this might as well be a military alliance as well as a trade alliance. Lord Tywin is most likely waiting for a show of Eddard's military prowess as well as where he fits in with the power structure in the North. The problem is Eddard's still seven and ten years old, so Lord Tywin Lannister may be looking at perhaps being able to influence..."

Barbrey interrupted, in an almost growling tone,  "Nei einn skulu tell minn maðr hvat til germinnr maðr útan mik!"  Lyanna had to smile: No one tells my man what to do but me!  "Brandon, I will talk to Eddard about this. I know what Eddard's trying to do. His intentions are good, but I think he may be a bit overconfident in dealing with others outside of the North.  I think Eddard and I need to solidify our rule and stabilize the Sunset Coast, before we start making any overtures to anyone outside of the North or our current allies."   Barbrey sighed, "I'll talk to him.'

Lyanna watched Barbrey return to the table and it was evident she was talking with the two vassal lords and the Castellan, Lord Rodrik Glover, regarding the issue. They seemed to be making some plans. Lyanna attempted to listen in but she was soon distracted by her other soon-to-be goodsister.  Dacey introduced Lyanna to Snowbear and it seemed she was getting used to the being closer than most to the direwolf pup. Brandon continued to sit beside her at the bar having some ale and some of the stew as a small mid afternoon meal. Lyanna herself decided to have the same along with some of the small loaves of bread.

Brandon shifted in his seat slightly as he opened his doublet to pull out a raven, "This came for you last night by the way."  He handed Lyanna a folded piece of parchment which had a seal of black wax which depicted a crowned stag . The seal was intact but the raven had obviously been opened already.

Lyanna rolled her eyes with an annoyed smirk, "I see father's still reading the correspondence between myself and my betrothed."   Lyanna read the raven noting her betrothed's handwriting was oddly awkward as if by someone who did not write many letters:

My dearest Lyanna,

The days are too long that I am away from you and I look forward to seeing you soon. I will try to arrange perhaps coming to Winterfell a few moons earlier than planned.  I know we planned to meet at White Harbor so we may travel together to the upcoming tourney at Harrenhal happening towards the end of the next year. But I will be arriving much sooner. I will send a raven when I depart for White Harbor from Gulltown. I believe my foster brother, Ser Denys Arryn, will still be in Winterfell with his new wife Aemma by the time I arrive. 

I would request that your brother Eddard should be at Winterfell as well during this time as I'll be arriving around the same time as Ser Brynden Tully who will be escorting Brandon's betrothed, Lady Catelyn Tully. I'd like to meet with your eldest brother Brandon to verify that all the parties of the alliance between the Vale, Riverlands, Stormlands and the North are of like minds. 

There is a concern particularly with the Lord Paramount of the Riverlands that, after reading the report by Ser Elbert Arryn to the Lord Paramount of the Vale regarding the survey of the bodies discovered at the slaver camp from which your brother Eddard escaped from, he is very concerned that anyone with Eddard's power and abilities would be potentially very dangerous and must be kept under control.

His unnatural abilities may be less disturbing to those from the North. However, those in the Riverlands are extremely apprehensive given their wooded areas do contain wolves naturally. I was already witness to Ser Brynden Tully stating he doesn't feel particularly comfortable with a demon possessed someone who may have the ability to command the likes of wolves or direwolves through witchcraft unnatural means in control of lands which should be subject to the authority of his niece and her husband comprising a good portion of the North.  I've been advised that you may wish to have a Septon from the Order of Mysteries perhap evaluate Eddard as far as ...

Lyanna stopped reading and crumpled the letter in her hands as tears began to well up in her eyes. Brandon looked at her with concern, asking, "What's wrong?"

"Well apparently our allies are now also uncomfortable with Eddard especially those under your future goodfather....", said Lyanna before sighing and swearing,  "Those fucking Andals!"  She slammed the raven down on the table and ordered another flagon of ale. Brandon proceeded to read pick the raven up and read it. Lyanna looked at Brandon curiously asking, "I thought you had read it already...."

"No I didn't. I'm guessing father did however," said Brandon as Lyanna saw his eyes moving back and forth reading the entire note, "That's not Robert talking. Robert's delivering a message "   Brandon read further, chuckling darkly, "Septon from the Order of Mysteries. My future goodfather better be fucking japing on that one with your betrothed. I'll check with Lord Wyman Manderly or Lord Raymun Whitehill as they are more versed in the Faith of the Seven but I'm pretty sure the Order of Mysteries became a fringe organization only active with certain sects ever since they got rid of the Faith Militant centuries ago."

Brandon leaned back, stating, "At any rate, it is doubtful any of them would leave the room alive after trying to evaluate Ned. I suppose it was inevitable Lord Hoster Tully would move like this."  Brandon sighed as Lyanna looked to him curious.

"What was?"

"Remember what I said earlier to Barbrey," said Brandon "Ned's planning to build one hell of a military presence on the Sunset Coast. Slate's already created a fairly formidable and disciplined army which is growing, Ser Wendel Manderly's most likely building a Navy. I'd hazard a guess Hoster Tully most likely already knows about Lord Tywin Lannister's overtures to Eddard. I know Father's holding a grudge for the initial reaching out to Tywin and Hoster probably knows this." Brandon paused for a moment, taking a swig out of his mug of Ale, "But why would he be talking with just Robert about this? Why not with father or Jon Arryn as well?"  Brandon's eyes narrowed, "I'm going to have a word with father about this. I'd also like to talk with Ser Denys Arryn when he arrives about this as well. Ask him what Jon Arryn's take on Eddard is exactly as far as this is concerned."

Lyanna asked, "Why?"

Brandon stated, "I'm sure the Lord Paramount of the Vale would like to know what the Lord Paramount of the Riverlands is doing with what should be an considered an internal report, given the issue of a major Slaver ring in the Vale is something that Lord Paramount of the Vale has been trying to keep a lid on and limiting public news of such outside of the Vale.   Father hasn't even seen that report and the only reason father is in on any of it is because Eddard was involved." Brandon thought for a moment, "Come to think of it, perhaps Robert sending this raven this way may have given us warning us ahead of time. We know Robert's not the most eloquent in his writing but ... "

Lyanna completed the thought, "The more than obvious corrections may be a way of giving us forewarning what to expect from Ser Brynden and your betrothed when they arrive."

Brandon thought for a moment, "True. I'll need to find an excuse to recall Eddard about that time to Winterfell, along with his Vassal Lords, particularly Ser Wendel. Eddard and his vassals being there in my presence and working as normal lords should with their liege lord or his heir should be enough to put an end to this foolishness.  I'll need to speak to father on this as well. We do have an alliance with the Riverlands, but that does not mean we're going to let Hoster Tully start fucking with the current power structure of the North."

Lyanna nodded, "But Ned...."

Brandon stated, "Ned's our brother. He is headstrong. He may have overstepped his bounds slightly but he is our family, 'part of the pack' to use his words. Remember what father used to say when we would be fighting as children: Summer is a time for arguing but in winter, we must protect one another and keep each other warm and safe, for when the snows fall and the white winds blow...."

Lyanna completed the statement, "....the lone wolf may die, but the pack survives.”  Lyanna smiled slightly.

Lyanna and Brandon joined the rest of the group at a large table and had a rather full meal for the rest of the afternoon. It was rather amusing seeing Shadow and Snowbear being fed sausages by their respective bonded humans, Snowbear going so far as to actually swipe one straight from Dacey's plate before being scolded by her. At the end of the meal however, they had to return to Winterfell as sunset was approaching. They would be attending the arrival of House Bolton to Winterfell.

Lyanna saw Barbrey headed in the direction of the Hunter's Gate rather than the South Gate. Barbrey seemed to be carrying a sack with her which was not particularly heavy but somewhat bulky.  Lyanna decided to follow until she came upon Barbrey waiting by the small grove of trees near the road. Lyanna saw Barbrey standing with Lynara and the other female direwolves next to her. Lyanna noted it looked lo her less like a woman standing with three impressively sized beasts sitting around her, but reminded her more of four women awaiting the return of their beloveds from their journeys.  Lyanna was noticed by one of the females, the one with lighter grey fur, as she turned her head briefly watching Lyanna's approach.

Barbrey turned briefly as Lyanna arrived by her side. She seems to have tears in her eyes. She said somewhat distantly, "The Old Gods have their price," said Barbrey looking a Lyanna. "Howland is paying his, now Eddard. I pray they give Jyana and I the strength to pull the both of them and our families through the Long Night."

Lyanna watched as the sun was slowly beginning to dip towards the tops of the trees in the Wolfswood on the horizon.  From the treeline, around sixteen huge direwolves began approaching at a rapid pace.  One of the direwolves near the middle of the pack oddly began to change and began running on his hind legs, changing into a form more like a man. The man was Eddard and he seemed to actually keep pace with the direwolves in his human form, perhaps sprinting as a method of keeping warm in his now naked form.

When the fifteen direwolves had arrives Lyanna could clearly see Cregan and the other two wolves familiar to Winterfell next to him. The other twelve were much different. They were wild and not bonded direwolves and seemed harder muscled and slightly larger although leaner. They were clearly alphas due to the visible scarring around their snouts and bodies from gaining that status through climbing to the top of the pack as well as clashes with other apex predators such as shadowcats and the occasional giant snow bear, as well as hunting and killing the fiercer larger versions of normal prey animals of the North. 

Eddard had an exhausted sound to his voice as he stood there as he addressed both Barbrey and Lyanna as well as the direwolves. It seemed clear to Lyanna that Eddard was speaking however for her benefit alone, "My friends, this is my mate Barbrey and my sister Lyanna. They are pack."  It seemed he was struggling with the words as if in pain from an intense physical ordeal. One particularly fierce looking direwolf she had recognized from the night Eddard arrived and Cregan stayed behind, save he seemed slightly more massive and for lack of a better term, 'battle hardened' than the last time she had seen him.

This fierce direwolf approached her as she quaked in fear and let out a short chuff as he got very close to her. Lyanna felt paralyzed as the direwolf put his front paw on her relatively tiny shoulder then gently rubbed his snout against the side of her face. Lyanna seemed to understand and her fear ebbed away calmly,  as she began to scratch this direwolf between the ears. Lyanna seemed transfixed by the somewhat affectionate scarred direwolf.

Barbrey had finished handing Eddard some clothing out of the sack she was carrying and turned to Lyanna, "Dark Second Son of the Seeker's Mate's Brother apparently has taken a shine to you."  Barbrey watched as Eddard was finishing putting on his boots, remaining somewhat silent.  Barbrey turned somewhat cold, "I overheard Brandon talking about the raven you received from your betrothed. Lady Catelyn will need to decide whether she's loyal to her future husband Brandon or loyal to her father Lord Hoster Tully. I will advise Eddard not to overstep outside of the bounds of his responsibilities, but Sea Dragon's Point will run the Sunset Coast at the pleasure of Winterfell, not Riverrun or Storm's End or even Casterly Rock." 

Lyanna remained silent until Eddard stepped up giving Barbrey a short peck on the cheek, saying quietly, "It's almost sundown. We will need to back behind the Hunter's Gate."  Lyanna noted that House Bolton was arriving from the North hence Hunter's Gate would be the logical point at which to enter Winterfell.

As Lyanna entered the gate beside Barbrey and Eddard and the fifteen direwolves, Lyanna saw everyone was already set up in their places. The Lords of the North were arranged two groups forming a  wide 'V' with five men-at-arms from their own house along with a standard-bearer holding a long pole with the banner of their respective Lord's sigil identifying them.  Absent of course was the delegation for House Ryswell as well as House Karstark and the Houses from the island of Skagos, the latter having not yet arrived in Winterfell. In the center of the 'V' were Brandon and her father Lord Rickard Stark along with Master-at-Arms Ser Rodrik Cassel, Maester Walys, and five Winterfell soldiers and two standard-bearers holding the standard for House Stark of Winterfell.  Lyanna took her place beside her father.

She saw Benjen standing with Shadow with lord Tormund Flint and five soldiers with a standard-bearer holding a banner with a sigil of a grey direwolf of House Stark on two white quadrants with a white plow on a green field on the other two quadrants. Lyanna noted that must be the new sigil for House Stark of Achyldenloch.  They were slightly behind her father and eldest brother standing to the left.

Lyanna saw Eddard and Barbrey meet Lord Rodrik Glover and a single young standard-bearer, who was  holding a banner which depicted  two dark grey seated direwolves flanking the rearing horse of House Ryder in blue underneath a large left facing dark grey direwolf's head on a white field. Cregan and the two male direwolves of the Winterfell pack fell in next to Eddard and Barbrey, seated next to them and the other twelve, which were Dark Second Son of the Seeker's Mate's Brother  and his 'generals', took similar seats flanking her father and brother.  Lyanna thought this must have been her father's idea but it was obvious to anyone in the courtyard by the Hunter's Gate that Eddard was the alpha the direwolves followed - with the mere nod Eddard gave to his father as he took his place and his eyes flickered between grey and white , Lyanna could tell that Eddard just communicated to the direwolves what he wished to be done.

As Rogar Bolton and his convoy of around 100 men-at-arms and 10 additional on horseback arrived through the inner gatehouse of the Hunter's Gate they were immediately cut off from behind by several of the soldiers as well as the regular guards from House Stark of Winterfell's own militia. Lord Rickard nodded to Ser Rodrik Cassel who took the five Winterfell soldiers, evidently officers, to coordinate bringing the 110 men in the Bolton convoy into temporary custody. 

Rogar Bolton himself was a rather swarthy man with a blotchy pink complexion. Hidden by the weight put on in later years through his excesses and appetites, his face was once was described as to have had rather chiselled features and quite handsome despite the rather broad nose. His hairline had a natural widow's peak which he styled his dark now greying hair to show off.  From what Lyanna knew of his son Roose the two looked nothing alike save for their eyes, both set close together and appearing as though they were chips of dirty ice.  Lyanna remembered her father stating that like his brother Royce he seemed to enjoy inflicting pain on others, savoring their reactions to where their pleas for mercy only encouraged him to be even more cruel. The North would not miss Rogar Bolton when he was gone, she thought, as she saw the man dismount from his destrier. On the destrier next to him was his brother Royce Bolton.

Lord Rickard Stark walked forward to meet the two Boltons. Lyanna watched as Brandon took a step forward to follow her father as he motioned for him to remain. "Stay here, Brandon," said Lyanna's father.

"But what if..."

"Then that means my heir is out of harm's way," said Lord Rickard Stark as he walked purposefully towards Rogar and Royce Bolton. Lyanna caught Eddard watching the whole thing as did Barbrey. Lyanna knew Eddard would take care of the issue as she saw the edges of Barbrey's mouth curve upwards. Dark Second Son of the Seeker's Mate's Brother and an even larger albino white direwolf with crimson red eyes (as well as a scar across his snout similar to the one her brother Eddard had across his own face) silently left their positions at the edge of the line loping silently towards a position such they were only at most five yards behind Lord Rickard Stark, stopping that distance behind so as not to crowd the Lord Paramount of the North.

Lyanna heard some words exchanged between Rogar Bolton and he father but could not make them out. Royce Bolton took a slight step backwards and seemed to be keeping his eye on Dark Second Son of the Seeker's Mate's Brother rather than paying attention to the exchange between Rogar Bolton and Rickard Stark. She could see some slight fear and recognition on Royce Bolton's face as if he had seen that direwolf before.

Meanwhile words were being exchanged between Rogar Bolton and her father. She could not hear them but it seemed as if there was escalation to the exchange.  And then the unimaginable happened ...

Rogar Bolton placed a front kick squarely on the chest of Lord Rickard Stark knocking him back several feet, before drawing his sword as if to finish the Lord of Winterfell off whilst he was down. Royce reacting to what his brother had done, had drawn his own longsword at this time preparing for defense.  Almost immediately however Dark Second Son of the Seeker's Mate's Brother  and the White Wolf leapt towards Rogar and Royce Bolton, as Lyanna watched Eddard's direwolf Cregan rush towards her fallen father. Lyanna never had seen wolves or dogs move that fast. Being as large as they were, the direwolves' speed was even more impressive.

Before Lord Rickard Stark even rose from the ground, Dark Second Son of the Seeker's Mate's Brother had rammed his shoulder into Rogar Bolton and knocked Rogar back flying ten yards back before leaping upon him and letting our a growling road loud enough for the echoes to be heard reflecting back from the Southern Walls of Winterfell. Rogar had dropped his own sword in the proces, still laying on the ground where Dark Second Son of the Seeker's Mate's Brother  had impacted him.

The albino direwolf on the other hand had done similar with Royce Bolton, but then picked up Royce Bolton off the ground in his jaws and shook him about like a ragdoll throwing him around seven yards east.  Royce Bolton most likely was very bruised on his torso as his black ringmail most likely had saved his skin from being punctured by the teeth of the direwolf. It was also evident that the direwolf was merely trying to neutralize him and not kill him as direwolves that size can bite with easily enough force to snap a man's spine like a brittle twig.  He would still need a maester's care even if he was along with his brother to be executed in a few days.

Lord Rickard Stark was silent as he began to regain his breath.  He looked at the two direwolves having neutralized both Rogar Bolton and Royce Bolton. A third direwolf by his side, whom he immediately recognized as his son's bonded direwolf Cregan, offering his right shoulder to lean on to get up from the ground. Lord Rickard Stark accepted the offer briefly saying his thanks to the direwolf who pleasantly chuffed in response.

Lord Rickard Stark stepped away from Cregan as he said loudly, "Much as I would like to execute you right now with the bloody cross in our Godswood or have these direwolves finish you off like they did your brother's army, I cannot as I am bound by laws passed down by the Kings of Winter from long ago when dealing with other Lords, themselves descendants of those the Kings of Winter had conquered. " 

Rickard turned to Dark Second Son of the Seeker's Mate's Brother saying, "Let him up."  Dark Second Son of the Seeker's Mate's Brother  hesitated a moment and complied. Lyanna noticed Dark Second Son of the Seeker's Mate's Brother  seemed to look in Eddard's direction for final approval. Dark Second Son of the Seeker's Mate's Brother lifted his massive paw off of Rogar Bolton and barked at him motioning with his snout for Rogar to stand. The albino direwolf did the same with Royce Bolton. Royce hobbled over to his brother's side, clutching his sides indicating he may have a few bruised or possibly fractured ribs.

Rickard Stark paused, "Lord Rogar Bolton, Lord Royce Bolton, you are at this moment to stand trial for treason against your liege. You will be judged by the Lords of the North and your sentences will be decided upon by three judges who I am appointing as of this moment, in accordance with the laws laid down by King Eyron Stark, Second of his Name."  Rickard paused for a moment, as he paced in a semicircle so he would be facing the gathered Lords. He then looked towards the large rotund man who ruled the realm around White Harbor, "I declare Lord Wyman Manderly as a judge. How does Lord Manderly answer?"

Lyanna noticed the rather larger Manderly man nod with a proud dignified acknowledgement, "I hear your calling, my liege, and I will judge fairly in the eyes of the Old Gods and the New as I am called to do, by my King or Liege."

Lord Rickard Stark nodded before looking towards the banners of House Umber, "I declare Lord Osric Umber as a judge. How does Lord Umber answer?"

The large aging descendant with giant's blood stepped forward, "The Umber hears the calling of The Stark, and will judge fairly in the eyes of the Old Gods as The Umber is called to do by the Stark."

Lord Rickard Stark smiled with a nod before turning to the banners of House Flint of Flint's Finger, "And I declare Lord Justan Flint as a judge. How does the Lord of House Flint of Flint's Finger answer?"

The aging Lord of Flint's Finger stepped foward to state his acceptance , "I, Lord Justan Flint, hear the calling of my Liege, and and I will judge fairly in the eyes of the Old Gods and the New as I am called to do, by my King or Liege."

Lord RIckard Stark announced, "The judges have been named in accordance with the laws."  There was a pause as there was a unanimous response of Svá munu þat  loosely translated as "So it will be" in Old Tongue.  Lord Stark then turned towards the Boltons, "The men in your convoy will remain in custody until such time as the trial is over. Their sentence will be recommended by the judges as well. We will begin trial proceedings as discussed earlier at mid-day tomorrow in the Great Hall, once we have settled House Karstark, House Crowl, House Stane and House Magnar who will be arriving at sunrise."

Lyanna watched her father gave the speech as Cregan stood next to him, seemingly faithfully. The site was not lost on those witnessing but Lyanna heard the whispering amongst the Lords along the lines of Bolton learning the hard way why one never attacks a wolf in its own den and the wolves have truly returned to Winterfell. There were some who guessed Eddard had a hand in this, but Rickard's request of Eddard to bring them had the desired effect Lyanna had guessed her father was aiming for.

As Rogar Bolton and Royce Bolton were secured in manacles and chains, they were escorted to the jail resident beneath the Guard House, along with their men. It was a crowded situation but it was to be arranged after Lord Rickard Stark had a discussion with those named judges, that the men were most likely loyal to House Bolton rather than particularly loyal to Rogar Bolton.   Lord Roose Bolton would be summoned to Winterfell immediately to swear his fealty formally to House Stark as House Boltoin's liege and they would be given the opportunity to stay with  Lord Roose Bolton when down or remain prisoners until the recruiter from the Night's Watch passes through Winterfell in which they will return along with Lord Rodrick Ryswell to the Wall to take the Black.

After the gathering had long broken up and everyone was retiring to their respective chambers, Lyanna reflected on the day and could not get it out of her head the sight she saw when her brother had returned from the Wolfswood. Eddard had literally become the sigil of their house but at an increasing cost it seems. It was evident that the changes which occurred with him today had taken its toll on his body as she saw Barbrey and Cregan helping him along to his chambers to rest.  Lyanna kept thinking about Robert's letter and pulled out a quill and paper for a response:

My dearest Robert,

I had received your raven. You needn't be concerned about my brother Eddard's gifts fthat have been bestowed upon him by the Old Gods. However, remember that my family is of the North and worship the Old Gods. Second, you may wish to consider the following in regards to your ally, the Lord Paramount of the Riverlands,  and perhaps remind him that the North is not the Riverlands  When we became betrothed, I have realized that when I become your wife I will be Lady Paramount of the Stormlands. Father had told me and my brother Brandon reminded me earlier today that I will be Lyanna of House Baratheon after we say our vows whether in front of a Heart Tree or within a Sept.  The influence I have over my homeland will dwindle when we are married as I will be a Baratheon, not a Stark.

Just as when Lady Catelyn marries my brother Brandon, she will be a Stark and will be expected to act as such. I realize she was raised in the Faith of the Seven, and the issue of Faith in the Old Gods versus the New may be a similar issue to what I will be dealing with, being of the Old Gods with my future husband and future children being of the New. However, as Storm's End is not Winterfell, similarly Winterfell is not Riverrun. Lady Catelyn may need to be reminded of that when she arrives here. Once she says the vows she will no longer be a Tully.  Just as my sons and daughters will be Baratheons, her sons and daughters with Brandon will be Starks. They will be expected to worship the Old Gods of their father as tey will be Starks of the North. Their first son and first daughter will marry the daughter and son of Northern Lords. Lady Catelyn will not be alone in adjusting to her life as a Northern Lady however.  She will have two goodsisters who are of the North, Lady Dacey who is betrothed to my brother Benjen, as well as Lady Barbrey who is bound by not only the Old Gods but her heart to my brother Eddard betrothed to my brother Eddard. My brothers are very close ( any wrong committed against one brother will invite serious repercussions coming from my other two brothers )  as should their wives be.  

My father, Lord Rickard Stark, knows it is not his place to direct his goodson in regards to the internal politics of the Stormlands as that is not his place. Similarly, you nor any of the other Lords Paramount in alliance with the North should have any rights to direct anyone in the North based on your relationship with Lord Rickard Stark, whether that relationship be through fostering or betrothal. Hopefully Lord Hoster Tully realizes this and has instilled such sense in his daughter. Lord Rickard Stark does not order men in the Riverlands or the Vale or the Stormlands directly, neither should Lord Hoster Tully seek to do the same no matter how well intentioned it may seem. Woe to anyone who attempts to usurp my father's or brother Brandon's authority within the North. Lord Jon Arryn will tell you that you should know this already. Incidentally you will hear news soon of what does happen in regards to Rogar Bolton and Royce Bolton who attempted to do just that with House Stark.

At any rate, all of my love to you and I anxiously await your arrival in a few moons.

Ever yours,
Lyanna Stark

Lyanna looked at the raven noting the corrections still being visible to Robert and hopefully he will relay the response to the message Brandon had interpreted underneath Robert's last message. Last thing Lyanna wanted was any more threats to her Stark family before she became a Baratheon. Lyanna stood in her night shift looking at the letter before sealing it with a small House Stark seal along with her signature. She stood with her hands on her hips looking absentmindedly out the window before bringing up one hand to her one of her breasts, absentmindedly caressing it.

"Thinking about Robert?" came a familiar voice from behind her. It was Barbrey, dressed in her night shift but with Eddard's cloak around her to feel warm whilst walking in the hall. Lynara walked in behind her and decided to make herself at home in front of the hearth in Lyanna's chambers. "I thought I'd come sleep in here tonight if you don't mind. Eddard's ... exhausted from what went on today with his .... "  Barbrey sighed letting out what she was thinking, "literal fucking skinchanging. Besides Maester Walys is going to be busy with the trial tomorrow and he's already got Howland Reed. Not particularly feeling like getting injured if Eddard gets a little frisky."

Lyanna looked confused, "I can barely hear you both when you do....er ... do what you two do..."

Barbrey said deadpan, "He's still got some rather pronounced sharp teeth in that mouth of his and the claws didn't look too friendly. I figured give him a break from any stimulation."  Barbrey seemed awkward at stating the next sentence, "I'm worried about Eddard...."

Lyanna nodded, "I know. I wrote a raven to Robert to give him more of a head's up regarding "

Barbrey nodded, "Eddard and I will be getting up tomorrow and ... "  Lyanna saw Barbrey stop as she saw Dacey enter with two more direwolves, the small pup Snowbear and oddly Dark Second Son of the Seeker's Mate's Brother.  Dacey seemed to be rather oddly cheerful as well.

"Got a bit tired o' sittin' with my mum and little sister. I do like my new da' Lord Rodrik but ... " said Dacey as she stopped speaking, hesitating slightly. "I thought i'd spend the night with my future goodsisters." Snowbear seemed to immediately hop towards Lynara curling up with the larger direwolf much like a young child woudl with her aunt.

"Sounds good to me," said Barbrey as Lyanna nodded looking at the larger male direwolf a bit hesitantly but not fearful as they moved towards the bed.

"I think we'll all need a good night's sleep after the events of today," said Lyanna as she hopped in her bed, pulling one of her furs. Barbrey hopped in the guest bed which had been brought up to Lyanna's chambers upon their arrival. Dacey hopped into the same bed with Lyanna tucking herself under the furs, almost immediately falling asleep. Snowbear hopped up from her spot at the hearth and onto the foot end of the bed, covering most of it. Snowbear was a pup but a direwolf pup at almost the size of a regular wolf and still growing.  

Dark Second Son of the Seeker's Mate's Brother walked over to Lyanna as she lay down in the bed and gave her what seemed like a couple of affectionate licks on the nose. Lyanna chuckled slightly as she briefly gave him a few scratching pets between his ears before Dark Second Son of the Seeker's Mate's Brother walked over to the hearth next to Lynara and lay down himself.

Lyanna found rather it rather oddly amusing that one of the fiercest direwolves, the one who took over Cregan's pack, the one who led the packs of the other eleven direwolves present in Winterfell in massacring the Bolton army,  seemed to be more of an affectionate puppy towards her. Barbrey would note the next morning that Dark Second Son of the Seeker's Mate's Brother's behavior was not Eddard's doing, as Eddard was trying to limit his warging to mainly communication with Cregan due to the consequences being the physical manifestations he experienced the day before. Barbrey confided in Lyanna that Eddard feared losing what made him human and what made him a Stark, straying from the path of preparing for the Long Night, but most of all losing Barbrey in the process.

Chapter Text

THEON SNOW II
Morning - Sunset, 23rd Day, 10th Moon, 280 AC

Theon Snow awoke after short nap. He had arrived in Winterfell along with House Karstark, House Crowl, House Stane, and House Magnar during the wee hours of the night, almost at the end of the Hour of the Wolf. There was a quick ceremony of Bread and Salt as well as the Oaths of Fealty to the Lord of Winterfell before they were shown to their chambers in the Great Hall. Theon had somehow earned a chamber in the Great Keep, most likely he assumed as he was Rickard Stark's natural born son. He couldn't sleep so once the sun had risen he headed out of his chamber doors to be greeted by his youngest half-brother Benjen.

"Góðag," said his younger half-brother. "Father was right. You look almost like Eddard only you've got kissed-by-fire hair, Theon."

Theon nodded, still holding his swordbelt along with the scabbard containing his Qohorik Spatha "You must be Benjen."

Benjen nodded, "Aye. You hungry?"

"Starved."

Benjen said, "Follow me then. We'll break our fast down in the kitchens."  

Theon nodded, adjusting he swordbelt fastening it to himself, "Lead on."  Theon marvelled at the stonework of the interior of the castle. He was still getting used to how large the buildings were in Winterfell and how much of an area Winterfell itself took up. It was almost a whole town or city unto itself.

They arrived at the kitchens and Theon watched as they were indeed very busy as meals were being prepared for the late evening as well as a lighter more portable menu being prepared for the trials of the Bolton traitors being held during most of the day. Benjen sat down at one of the bench tables with Theon as they were both brought two large plates holding a rather several small venison and auroch sausage links along with duck eggs as well as some chopped potatoes fried in the drippings of the cooked sausage, loavesof black bread and a flagon of dark ale.  Brandon sat down and joined the two.

"You must be Brandon," stated Theon as Brandon sat down.

A kitchen wench brought Brandon a similar plate as Benjen and Theon had in front of them as he poured himself a mug of ale. Brandon replied to his half-brother, "I'm assuming you're our half-brother, Theon, Son of the Wolfmother?"  Brandon paused adding playfully, "How do you know I'm not Eddard?"

Theon merely looked at Brandon, saying in a deadpan voice, "You're too soft."

Brandon looked offended slightly, but asked, "What makes you say that?"

"I've seen the fighting pits of Mereen and Astapor and Mantarys first hand. That's where Vidar Tarraenos was sending him and preparing him for.  From what Eddard had been through, he wouldn't look as pretty. He'd also be a lot leaner and much more scarred."   Theon then ate one of his sausages. "You're also definitely not a warg."

Benjen looked curious as Brandon asked the question. "How can you tell?"

Theon merely pointed to his eyes. His mother was a relatively powerful warg. He had not received such gifts from his mother but some of his cousins within Mentyr hen Sīmontan (or, in Common Tongue, the Company of the Rose ) were such as well. He pointed his fork at Benjen, "He's one. You're not. My mother was a warg almost as powerful as your brother Eddard as well."

About this time four ladies had arrived - a rather short Crannogwoman with curly dark har, a very young woman about the same height dressed similarly with an albino direwolf pup tagging along with next to her, a relatively curvaceous and athletic young woman with definite Stark features with her long face and grey eyes, and a relatively tall and graceful woman being followed by a fully grown dark-grey female direwolf. The women sat down at the table next to them as the direwolves headed to an area to the side where a breakfast of spare butchered auroch parts were given to them.

Benjen looked to Theon and motioned around the table, "The shorter curly haired lady is Lady Jyanna, Lord Howland Reed's betrothed. Next to her is my own betrothed, Lady Dacey of House Mormont and House Glover.  Across the table from Lady Dacey is our sister, Lady Lyanna Stark and next to her is our brother Eddard's betrothed, Lady Barbrey Ryswell."  Benjen paused, "Ladies, this is our natural born brother Theon Snow, son of the Wolfmother."  There were formal greetings around the table.

Dacey stated, "Well, Theon does look like a ginger Eddard."

Theon seemed slightly annoyed until he saw Lady Barbrey shake her head with a pleasant smile in his direction. Barbrey said, "I know my Eddard and I do see the family resemblance. Not enough wolf in him to look like Eddard to me."  Barbrey added, "No offense."

"None taken," Theon replied as he knew the reference to his half-brother's unique gifts from the Old Gods. Theon then turned back to Brandon, "So these gatherings? They happen often? I noticed a lot of merchants setting up in the stalls near the tourney fields."

"Usually there's one at least once a year, depending on the season and weather as well as if anything else is going on within the realm. I remember I think when mom died it we held it early and it was short so everyone could attend the funeral." Brandon seemed a bit sad at that news. He remembered asking about his father a year later and his mom telling him and then being disappointed they weren't going to see his brothers and sister. "But anyways this one looks like it will be fun as it's a relatively mild winter and I'm seeing some Dornish merchants showing up. I'd like to get a hold of some bottles of some of their Strongwine. Apparently it's not as sickeningly sweet as the stuff from the Reach especially the Arbor." 

About this time an obvious Stark entered the room. This must be Eddard, thought Theon. Theon did see some family resemblance between himself and Eddard, as well as between Eddard and his other siblings, but that was where it stopped. The way Eddard's teeth set in his mouth as he smiled looking upon Lady Barbrey, the shape of his face especially his jawline, and his eyes which seemed more wolf than human were characteristics where the resemblance stopped between the Stark siblings and the uniqueness of Eddard started. Theon had an odd feeling however that it would make more sense of his future serving Eddard Stark as a King of Winter than Brandon Stark as Lord of the North.

This odd feeling was one he had felt from time to time of events that eventually may come to pass. The last time he did was a month before the day he last saw his mother just before she was travelling southeast from Norvos to Astapor on a smaller job with some of the other members of Mentyr hen Sīmontan , the accidental death of Arya Wolfmother at the hands of a Dothraki hunting party. They skinned her alive for a trophy but they did not realize what she was, thought Theon. The Khal and his bloodriders sought a maegi afterwards and avoided the forests of Qohor afterwards when they saw the pelt change from a wolf's fur to human skin.

Eddard looked at Theon, smiling as he sat next to Barbrey, "You must be our natural born brother, Theon."

Theon nodded, "And you must be my brother Eddard or who the crannogmen I met earlier call Hlioðrinn Stórrvargr." Eddard chuckled a bit smiling, but Theon sighed continuing, "I find that nickname disturbingly odd because that sounds like a line in a some song some bard from Long Lake regarding what I saw at the clearing where the Bolton army met its end "  Theon sang some slightly off key chorus, "Only words I could make out really was a refrain -  En Vargrinn ór Andlát munu kennblooðr , Sem Hlioðrinn Stórrvargr mælir ok þeir hlýða!" 

Theon watched Barbrey raise her left eyebrow at Theon's mention of the song, Eddard merely sighed as his elder brother Brandon began grinning with a slight chuckle. The youngest brother merely shrugged along with his half-sister, Lyanna who said,  "Well at least it isn't a dirge like that bloody tune from the Westerlands that the Lannisters seem to like. We heard that one a couple times when we were down in the Riverlands."

"It reminded me of that shanty sung by some of the sailors and oarsmen on ships I've been on," noted Theon, as he sung the marching sea shanty. "Se se kraken, bon' ēza qūvy.  Se pōnta dakogon ilagon zȳhon laehurlion.  Yn se kraken glaesagon isse iēdar.  Sīr daorys kostagon ūndegon se qūvy."

Theon remembered the shanty as he had heard it a number of times as a rowing song, "And the kraken, that has tears.  And they run down his face. But the kraken lives in water. So no one can see the tears."  He had sung it actually a few times earlier in his youth as he took his turns on the oars of his uncle's ship, the Seawolf.  The lyrics were much more cheerful than the refrain "But the Wolves of Death, [they] will taste blood, As the Quiet Direwolf commands and [so] they obey!"

Eddard drank some ale but had very little breakfast Theon noticed as he gave Barbrey a quick kiss and departed as he saw what appeared to be three smallfolk men wave him over. They seemed to be having a long conversation as everyone had finished their breakfast by the time he finished talking with the men.

Brandon asked briefly Eddard as Lord Rickard Stark approached Eddard, Theon and Brandon, "Who were those smallfolk you were talking to, Ned?"

"Manngi ór stórrmarglóð," responded Eddard casually almost dismissively. The term was literally "Nobody of great wealth,"  which meant in context 'no one important' , Theon translated the Old Tongue phrase in his head. An antiquated euphemism for smallfolk which wouldn't have caused anyone to think twice, save for the fact that Eddard would be the type who would have used the more common and shorter smárfólk to refer to them.  Theon had his suspicions those men weren't exactly smallfolk from the North nor were they even from this continent, but dismissed this as he walked with his father and half-brothers towards the Great Hall.  He had his suspicions on who they were, but could not fathom why men from that cult in Braavos would be in Winterfell and would have any business with his half-brother.

As they entered the Great Hall, Theon heard his elder brother Brandon state the benches and tables had been re-arranged such that there was enough standing room for all the lords on either side of the center of the great hall and the only furniture had been the high table with three chairs, a small table to the side with two chairs to one side of the high table and a dais to the other. 

At the high table were seated three lords. The first lord in the center was Lord Wyman Manderly.Theon had recognized immediately as he had met him when Mentyr hen Sīmontan had first arrived in White Harbor. The second was an older wiry built man with the well-trimmed beard of a man who kept his hair and beard trimmed short due to practicality rather than any vanity or local custom, whom Theon found out was Lord Justan Flint. On the other side of Lord Wyman Manderly was a man who must have also had giant's blood given his size whom Theon surmised was Lord Osric Umber.

At the small table to the side sat Winterfell's Maester, Maester Walys. Next to him was Maester Clydas whom he recognized as the older Maester travelling with House Karstark.  There were two minor lords standing in the middle of the open floor of the Great Hall a few yards in front of the high table. On the side closest to the two Maester's was Lord Cregan Ironsmith. Closest to the dais was Lord Tristam Lightfoot.

Theon was directed to sit in a row of chairs reserved for the witnesses in the corner slightly behind the dais. He was seated amongst a bunch of different people from smallfolk such as a farmer from near Castle Condon to lords such as Lord Rodrik Ryswell, who seemed to be hanging his head low for some odd reason.  

The Lords in the room grew silent and took their place as the two guards at the door towards the opposite end of the Great Hall gathering room banged their halberds on the floor. Lord Wyman Manderly stood from his chair, "The Trial of Lords Rogar Bolton of the Dreadfort and Lord Royce Bolton of Condon will begin shortly. Before we begin will the trial: who stands as the framgangórr fólkinn, to bring the charges against the accused?"

Lord Cregan Ironsmith stepped forward, a rather sturdily built man in his forties who most likely practiced the profession which his House name described. "I, Lord Cregan Ironsmith, stand as the framgangórr fólkinn.  I will pursue the prosecution of the accused to the fullest extent of the laws handed down by the Kings of Winter and Crown of the Seven Kingdoms, with impartiality and without malice, to the best of my abilities.  I swear this by the Old Gods and the New."

Lord Wyman Manderly, Lord Osric Umber and Lord Justan Flint, in unison, stated, "Svá munu þat."   Immediately afterwards, every proper Lord in the Room not a witness stated as well, "Svá munu þat." Literally the phrase meant "So be it." But the phrase was mainly used as a legal finality with the connotation that everyone in the room was in agreement.

Lord Wyman Manderly then stated, "Who stands as the móttakfranr fólkrinn, to defend the accused and counter the charges brought against them ?"

Lord Tristam Lightfoot stepped forward, a mature man with a well-kept beard who had thoughtful face which would be more at home on a maester than a Lord, stating, " I, Lord Tristam Lightfoot, stand as the móttakfranr fólkrinn,.  I will pursue the defense of  of the accused to the fullest ability to ensure that if innocent the accused are found as such under  the laws handed down by the Kings of Winter and Crown of the Seven Kingdoms. I will do so without bias with a pure heart to the best of my abilities.  I swear this by the Old Gods and the New."

Theon had heard there was a drawing of straws earlier from all the Lords of the North last night. The longest straw would be the framgangórr fólkinn or 'prosecutor' for the trial (in Old Tongue literally "offensive for the people's [law]'").  The shortest straw would be the móttakfranr fólkrinn or 'defense' (in Old Tongue literally 'defense from the people's [law]").

Lord Wyman Manderly, Lord Osric Umber and Lord Justan Flint, in unison, stated, "Svá munu þat."  This was followed immediately afterwards by the refrain from the rest of the Lords, "Svá munu þat." 

Theon saw his own father and half-brother Brandon sitting somewhat behind the two maesters who seem to be recording the details of the trial as Lord Wyman Manderly stated, "Bring in the accused."  

Theon noticed his other half-brother Eddard was standing against the wall some ways away near one of the Hearth's in the corner, where the larger grey and white direwolf bonded to him napped.  The light caught Eddard's eyes and they did not exactly appear human as if he had the same gaze as the large predator slumbering next to him.

Rogar Bolton and Royce Bolton were escorted in by Winterfell guards towards Lord Tristam Lightfoot who quietly stated to them that he was their defense advocate.

Lord Wyman Manderly stated as the Bolton lords faced the high table, "Lord Rogar Bolton of the Dreadfort,  you have been accused of the following crimes: the first of which is treason against your liege lord, Lord Rickard Stark; the second of which is attempted insurrection by ordering the raising of your armies against your liege lord; the third is attempted larceny through the usurpation of a great House of the North and misuse of several laws on the books already regarding inheritance and regency. Your plea on the first count, Lord Bolton?"

"How can one be guilty if my treason was not against the Crown?" stated Lord Rogar Bolton in a mocking voice.

Lord Wyman Manderly took a deep breath, "I'll take that as a plea of not guilty. If you could save the commentary for the actual trial, Lord Bolton, that would be most appreciated."

Lord Rogar Bolton nodded in agreement and compliance with a smirk. However, Royce Bolton had an odd look on his face as he glanced towards where Eddard Stark was standing. It was almost as if he had seen a ghost.

"On the second count of attempted insurrection how do you plead?"

"Not Guilty."

"On the third count of attempted larceny through usurpation how do you plead?"

"Not Guilty."

Lord Wyman Manderly then looked to Royce Bolton, "Lord Royce Bolton of Condon. You are accused of the following crimes: the first of which is treason against your liege lord, Lord Rickard Stark; the second of which is attempted insurrection by ordering the raising of your armies against your liege lord; the third of which is actually seven individual counts of murder recently of some women including a merchant's daughter as well as a well-known healer and woods witch known as Weirwood Wylla. How do you plead on the first count, Lord Royce?"

Royce Bolton still looked somewhat shaken but immediately stated, "Not Guilty."

"On the second count of attempted insurrection how do you plead?"

"Not guilty"

"On the third crime of which their are seven counts of murder how do you plead?"

"It's not murder if it's on my own land or unclaimed land," Royce Bolton said under his breath although Theon could hear such.

Lord Tristam Lightfoot stated  "Lord Royce Bolton, the location of the murders and where the .... remains were found was definitely not on House Bolton's lands unless the borders of House Bolton moved to the other side of Long Lake, in which case House Bolton might have a problem with House Lake, House Flint of the Mountains, House Cassel,  House Umber as well as House Stark regarding borders of House territory. If you are going with that I suggest you let your brother know because that will possibly add more counts on his third charge of usurpation especially given some recent issues between your men from Condon Castle and that skirmish with House Lake a few moons back."

Lord Royce sighed before loudly saying, "Not Guilty."

Lord Wyman Manderly then stated, "The framgangórr fólkinn may begin with calling the first witness."

Lord Cregan Ironsmith nodded, replying using the Old Tongue honorific for Lord Manderly's current role as a chosen judge "Thank you, Dómariþrír. I call the auroch herder Alyn of the Dale of West Long Lake "

A rather scruffy weathered older man with bowed legs walked over to the dais from the end of the row of chairs Theon was sitting.  Lord Manderly stated, "Alyn of the Dale of West Long Lake,  do you swear on the Old Gods and the New that every word you utter from this point forth is the absolute truth, whether freely given testimony or in answer to questions posed by the framgangórr fólkinn or the móttakfranr fólkrinn ?"

Alyn responded in a clipped thick rustic accent which was very common amongst the smallfolk of the central Northern and Northwestern Mountain regions of the North, "Ah du, m'lord D'mar'þrír."  Theon noticed he used the old honorific for  'Judge' as well. It was yet another sign he and his fellow members of the company and their families were back home in the North.

Lord Cregan Ironsmith stepped forward, "For the court, please state for the record what you saw on the morning of eighteenth day of the tenth moon of this year."

Alyn leaned forward, and stated in his less than eloquent "''Twas a foggy morn sae, Ah coods nae see whit hud disturbed th' aurochs, causin' them tae be nervoos. As th' sin rose Ah saw th' marchin' ay stoatin number ay min a'tarms alang wi' stoatin number ay wagons travellin' ben mah fields..."

Mother never told me about the talent of smallfolk in the rural areas of Westeros being able to butcher Common Tongue and Old Tongue simulatneously, though Theon, as he yawned involuntarily.

Thus began what seemed to be a long list of witnesses giving testimony regarding their interactions with Royce or Rogar Bolton and their observable actions with the movement of armies, direction of supplies, and various forms of evidence, very little of which seemed to directly implicate Rogar or Royce Bolton in any of the charges of direct treason. Most seemed to be underhanded methods of funding an army. Theon thought it best he get some rest during this time as he slumped in the rather comfortable chair, got some of the sleep he lost from the long march, only having arrived a few hours ago before dawn with the Karstarks and the Skagosi Magnars.

Theon was awoken with an elbow to his side from one of the smallfolk witnesses sitting next to him. He shifted in his seat sitting up erect listening to the closing questioning of the witness before him.

"...has not been established explicitly that those were necessarily Lord Rogar Bolton's intentions, Lord Ryswell," stated Lord Tristam Lightfoot. "He did not explicitly say that he intended to control all of the Stark holdings on the Sunset Coast explicitly, did he?"

Lord Rodrick Ryswell stated in a rather annoyed tone, "There was a conversation I specifically remember where I was talking to all three Bolton brothers - Elmar, Royce and Rogar  - and Rogar had to correct Royce and Elmar on the meaning of the term, Lord Regent, but there did seem to be some disagreement with me on the legal point that Lords Regent can be replaced at a later date if they do not live up to the needs off the Regency. That is: not acting in the best interests of the young Lord they are Regent for."

Lord Tristram Lightfoot nodded, "No further questions for the witness, Dómariþrír."

Lord Wyman Manderly looked to Lord Cregan Ironsmith, "Any further questions for this witness, framgangórr fólkinn?"

"None, Dómariþrír," replied Lord Irosmith.  "Although might I add, it is the opinion of the framgangórr fólkinn, that the majority of the defense's counterarguments were frankly splitting hairs regarding impressions of conversations between Lord Ryswell and Lord Bolton, which frankly have very little bearing on the facts that the Regency contracts between House Bolton and House Ryswell bear very much similarity to the contract between House Bolton and House Condon particularly in certain language which goes against the very spirit of the reason for a Regency: preservation of a House."

Lord Osric Umber motioned to Lord Justan Flint and Lord Wyman Manderly as Lord Wyman Manderly nodded. Lord Wyman Manderly stated, "Understood framgangórr fólkinn. We noticed you asked Lord Ryswell about the two hundred and fifty horsemen and heavy horses which were actively placed under Royce Bolton's command. You seemed to have not pursued this matter further in your questioning."

Lord Cregan Ironsmith responded, "Lord Ryswell had confessed to his involvement in the open acts of treason and had agreed to take the Black as his punishment in exchange for the preservation of his House.  The matter you addressed will be addressed with the next witness. I call Theon Snow, currenct acting Captain of the second scout platoon under the army for House Karstark."

Theon stood up and nodded walking to the dais as all the other witnesses had done. Lord Wyman Manderly had stated,  "Captain Theon Snow, do you swear on the Old Gods and the New that every word you utter from this point forth is the absolute truth, whether freely given testimony or in answer to questions posed by the framgangórr fólkinn or the móttakfranr fólkrinn ?"

Theon nodded and answered to the affirmative,"I do, my lord ... Dómariþrír".  He paused slightly as he nearly forgot to use the proper honorific.

And so the questioning began.

Lord Tristram Lightfoot seemed to focus more on what Theon would have considered the gory details of the massacre of Royce Bolton's army and Theon's view of the aftermath. It was meant to offer an alternate story of what had happened in that it was an open attack on House Bolton by Lord Eddard Stark using dark magic and the wolves themselves were responsible for the deaths of Weirwood Wylla and Lady Abagal Bolton.  Due to the carnage it was suggested that bloodmagic was involved, but Theon was meticulous in his descriptions of the differences between the carnage inside the command tent and outside, noting how it seemed the direwolves had avoided such when one viewed their tracks and the conditions of the bodies. Weirwood Wylla had been clearly flayed and vivisected alive with the wounds being of surgical precision rather than the brutal fury of being disemboweled by a large predatory animal. 

Theon did however agree with the defense that Lady Abagal's cause of death was bizarre as she was completely drained of blood but her body unblemished save for two razor thin cuts along the sides of her neck. These cuts were only noticed when the Maester in their convoy had examined the body very closely.  Given the rater brutal yet meticulous torture and death of the woods witch Weirwood Wylla, there was speculation in the courtroom as to Abagal's death being everything to the Old Gods restoring the balance to the backfiring of the odd rituals used to summon the power of demons rumoured to have been practiced by Royce and Abagal.

Lord Cregan Ironsmith seemed to keep his questioning mainly on what the army was prepared for and what appeared to have been the plans, which was House Bolton laying siege to Winterfell. Theon answered that they were clearly prepared for a siege of a large castle. They seemed to have included a heavier cavalry including horses as well as cavalrymen from House Ryswell, presumably this was to quickly counter any counterattack from House Stark's troops which were primarily infantry and archers. Theon also verified his and his underlings' survey of the unassembled siege weapons in the several wagons parked next to the stables. Recounting the entire inventory of 3 rather sizeable counterweight trebuchets along with 8 ballista, 6 catapults, 4 disassembled siege towers, and 4 rather large battering rams (designed to take out the heavy iron or bronze gates of larger castles) were the answers to the final questions from Lord Ironsmith. 

Theon noted however that oddly the documents mentioning the correspondence between Royce Bolton and Lazoquo Ostelion of Myr were not mentioned at all nor were they enterred into evidence which he found rather odd.

Theon Snow thought to at least ask if there were any further questions, "If it pleases the Dómariþrírren, I was wondering if the framgangórr fólkinn  had any further questions regarding our findings at the camp?"

Lord Wyman Manderly merely, "None at this time, Captain Snow. You may step down." 

Theon nodded in acknowledgement as he looked over towards his father and half-brothers briefly.  He noticed Eddard was watching the proceedings passively whilst he was on the witness stand, but occasionally kept looking towards two guards standing near two of the doors. Theon noticed those particular guards seemed to not staring ahead passively but looking straight at Royce Bolton. He had caught a nod from one of them towards his half-brother Eddard. Faceless men definitely, thought Theon as he left the dais back to his seat. I'd be a betting man that with at least two or three of them here, something's going on to raise the ire of the House of Black and White, possibly other institutions they are associated with across the Narrow Sea. 

Lord Wyman Manderly then stated, "That concludes the evidence from witnesses present here now. Is there any additional witnesses or evidence from the móttakfranr fólkrinn ?" 

Lord Tristram Lightfoot whispered briefly with Rogar Bolton and Royce Bolton, evidently asking them if they had anything further for their defense. Rogar Bolton shook his head. Royce Bolton seemed to be distracted and eventually gestured he did not as well.  The three judges waited as Lord Tristram ensured that there was no witnesses or evidence for the defense to raise.

Lord Wyman Manderly then turned to Lord Cregan Ironsmith stating, "Is there any additional witnesses or evidence from the framgangórr fólkinn  ?"  

Lord Ironsmith nodded, "Yes, Dómariþrír.  If I could have Maester Walys Flowers of Winterfell bring the evidence forth.  I put forth this document : a raven received from Lord Roose Bolton to Lord Rickard Stark dated the 21st day of the 10th moon of this year. This raven has been unsealed in the manner proscribed to all Maesters so as to not damage the seal once opened for subsquent verification of validity. There is an official stamp in the corner noting the date of unsealing as well as Maester Walys' own glyph to indicate he had been the one to perform the unsealing."

Theon noted from what little he knew of the Maesters, all ravens were treated as would any legal documents be treated and falsification of such was one of the worst crimes a Maester could think of committing. To do so would raise the ire of the Citadel such that archmaesters who report directly to the Seneschal and never leave Oldtown would be sent to the castle immediately where the offending maester was stationed to rectify the situation along with the replacement maester for the Lord of the Castle. The punishment from what he gathered was the same as a deserter from the Night's Watch and was delivered by the Lord of the Castle as a proxy for the Citadel.

Lord Wyman Manderly nodded to Lord Ironsmith, then to Maester Walys, then turned to Lord Tristram Lightfoot, "Can the accused verify the seal and signature on the raven, móttakfranr fólkrinn ?"

Lord Tristram Lightfoot nodded, "Aye, Dómariþrír."   Lord Lightfoot then nodded to Lord Ironsmith who brought the raven over to the defense. Lord Lightfoot held the raven so Rogar Bolton could examine the seal and the letter.

Lord Rogar Bolton examined the seal and after a few seconds flatly stated, "It is my son's seal."

Lord Ironsmith stated, "móttakfranr fólkrinn, will you ask your charge to verify the signature as belonging to his son, Roose Bolton, at the bottom of the text of the raven?"

Lord Rogar Bolton unfolded the raven to look at the signature but appeared to read, growling out under his breath,  "Betrayed by my sentimental son... "

Lord Ironsmith stated, "móttakfranr fólkrinn, may the Lords gathered here in the court infer from your comment that this is an affirmative to the verification?"

Lord Rogar Bolton growled a little louder, "The signature indeed belongs to my son,  Roose Bolton: May I tell the court however at this moment I declare him to Roose Snow and am formally disowning him from my line that he has no authority in any actions regarding House Bolton whilst I am still alive."

Lord Lightfoot looked to Rogar Bolton then to Lord Ironsmith, both of whom looked to the table fo the Judges. Lord Ironsmith looked to the judges, "Dómariþrír, based on the content of the raven, we may need your ruling on such."

Lord Osric Umber whispered something to Lord Wyman Manderly who looked to Lord Justan Flint who seemed to indicate his agreement.  Lord Wyman Manderly stated, "Very well.  framgangórr fólkinn.  Approach the High Table with the raven in question."  Lord Tristram Lightfoot collected the raven from Rogar Bolton's hands, relaying such to Lord Ironsmith who then left such at the High Table.  :Lord Wyman Manderly accepted the Raven reading it completely before handing it to Lord Umber who read such before handing the raven on to Lord Flint.

Lord Wyman Manderly asked loud enough for the court to hear, "Dómariþrír Umber, in your legal opinion, does the content of the Raven have any bearing on Lord Rogar Bolton's declaration?"

Lord Osric Umber stated, "The first sentence of the Raven is one where Lord Roose Bolton declares himself as head of House Bolton and Lord of the Dreadfort and in the very next sentence he swears fealty to his liege Lord Rickard Stark indicating such at the end of the sentence with the runes for Svá munu þat.  I'd say Lord Roose Bolton declared himself Lord of the Dreadfort over his father Lord Rogar Bolton. This is less of a legitimacy argument as it is one of wheter Lord Roose Bolton has the authority to usurp his father's seat. Technically it is only allowed in situations where the current sitting lord is a danger to the continued existence of his House and/or the Vassal Houses under him. This of course requires concurrence from the liege Lord directly if brought forth directly to the liege lord by both parties or in a trial court such as the one we have here.  I think the outcome of this trial will determine such."

Lord Wyman Manderly turned to Lord Justin Flint, "Dómariþrír Umber, did you have any opinions to share on this Raven?"

Lord Justin Flint sighed, "I agree with Dómariþrír Umber. However, I would disagree that the determination be left to the outcome of the trial."Lord Rogar Bolton should already know this: Lords - even liege lords - cannot legitimize or delegitimize members of a house. That would be a privilege reserved for the monarchy. The only exception is starting a branch house which is given a bit of leeway and left to the discretion of the head of the main house and the warden of the realm. But the laws for legitimization or delegitimization of an noble-descended individual being dependent on the judgement of the current sitting Crown have been in place since before Torrhen Stark bent the knee to Aegon the Conqueror." 

Lord Justan Flint paused letting that sink into both the defense and prosecution as well as the court. "Second, if Rogar Bolton is not guilty of the charges of treason then he should have no objection to most of the text of the Raven given it is Lord Roose Bolton re-affirming House Bolton's fealty to House Stark as its liege.  Lord Roose Bolton's declaration of fealty whilst irregular given his father is already here is not one to directly suggest that he is usurping his father's seat prematurely. And technically according to Northern Law he is the acting Lord whilst Lord Rogar Bolton is away from his lands."

Lord Rogar angrily interrupted, shoving Lord Tristram Lightfoot aside, "My brother Lord Elmar should be as he is Roose's Lord Regent!"

Lord Justan Flint merely asked, "When was your son Roose Bolton born?"

Lord Rogar Bolton remained silent.

Lord Justan Flint looked to the Maesters at the table, "Maester Walys, Maester Clydas, do you have the answer for us?"

Maester Walys stated, "Roose Bolton was born during the Twenty First Day of the Eleventh Moon Two Hundred Fifty Nine years After the Conquest."  Maester Walys added, "I distinctly remember that particular day as that was two days after my arrival in Winterfell after I had just earned my final links and was sent to assist old Maester Sylvan. And I remember Maester Sylvan, May the Seven Rest His Soul, sending me to this Great Hall to bring the raven to Lord Edwyle Stark so he could announce such for Lord Rogar Bolton at the opening feast for the Gathering of the Lords that year. I had become lost being still unfamiliar with Winterfell and Lord Rickard Stark was able to guide me."  The anecdote drew a bit of a chuckle but confirmed the date of Roose Bolton's birth.

Theon did the math. Roose Bolton was twenty namedays old and would be one and twenty in just under a couple of fortnights.

Lord Justan Flint stated, "So Lord Roose Bolton being four years past the age of majority legally no longer requires a Regent. It is also highly doubtful that Roose Bolton qualifies as a simpleton in need of a Regent if he can manage to write his own raven swearing fealty to his liege lord using Common as well as Old Tongue."  Lord Justan Flint shifted slightly in his seat as he cleared his throat, "That being said, this Raven doesn't tell us anything the witnesses haven't already revealed to us. At least anything relevant to these proceedings."

Lord Wyman Manderly nodded, "Thank you Dómariþrír Umber, Dómariþrír Flint."The large Lord of White Harbour turned back to the court continuing, "My colleagues have valid points on . Really the only thing we can take from this raven is that legally Lord Roose Bolton is acting Lord of the Dreadfort, and there seems to be a division within House Bolton enough to note that Lord Roose Bolton and Lord Rogar Bolton are not in agreement regarding the governance of their House. In my estimation, this raven is peripheral to the case at best regarding the charges of treason against Lord Rogar Bolton and possibly prejudicial in favor of the framgangórr fólkinn. Given Lord Roose Bolton is not here for cross examination, I would recommend excluding this raven from the admitted evidence lest we muddy the water on for the Lords present to pass their own judgement and vote accordingly on the charges. Dómariþrír Umber, Dómariþrír Flint?"

Both men sitting next to Lord Manderly nodded and voice their agreement to the exclusion of the raven from Lord Roose Bolton.  The Great Lord of the Merman's Court shifted his great bulk, "I believe all the witnesses have had their statements heard. Do the framgangórr fólkinn and the móttakfranr fólkrinn have asked their questions and put forth any counterarguments. Do either of you have anyting further?"

Lord Ironsmith shook his head and stated, "No, my Lord Dómariþrír."

Lord Lightfoot spoke with Rogar and Royce Bolton briefly before himself saying, "No, my Lord Dómariþrír."

"Then as Dómariþrír, I call an end to this phase of the trial," said Lord Manderly. "May we then clear this hall of those who are not Lords of the Court or Maesters so that the Lords of the Court may in their wisdom weigh their opinions on the guilt or innocence of the accused," stated Lord Manderly.

At this time some attendants entered the Hall to remove the dais and place another table in front of the High Table. The table had six bronze poles on it along with some baskets filled with pieces of bronze with holes in the middle. Theon watched as he and the other witnesses began to filter out of the Hall as Maester Clydas walked over to the table with the poles carrying some plaques. He overheard one of the witnesses commenting that he was visiting his brother at Castle Black around twelve years back when they used similar devices during the election of a new Lord Commander and noted that someone named Qorgyle had the most bronze pieces on the pole corresponding to him. Theon noted it seemed to be an effective and very visual way of counting votes.

Theon noticed, as he exited attempting to reunite with his family outside, that there seemed to be one less guard at either entrance and his brother Eddard seemed to have left as well. Theon also observed the steward of Winterfell Edric Poole and his staff bringing in enough food and ale into the Great Hall as they were leaving.

"The Lords of the North may be in there a while considering their vote on the charges," stated Lord Rickard as Theon opened his mouth to ask a question. "Hence the food and ale. Maester Walys will send word to us when it is time for the sentencing." 

Theon already knew the verdict however. Rogar Bolton was guilty of the charge of treason against his liege and he would not be surprised to see almost every bronze pieces from the baskets on the pole corresponding to guilt and the pole corresponding to innocence being amost empty. The other charges were mere formalities as the charge of treason carried the sentence of death.

Royce Bolton on the other hand was another story. He flayed alive a woods witch alive. Those faithful to the Old Ways would not be pleased with a mere beheading by the sword. But then again, Theon had a feeling that the Old Gods were not the only ones who wanted Royce Bolton as he noticed servants of the Many Faced God also watching the man.

Theon grabbed a quick afternoon meal and retired to his chambers for a good night's sleep.

Around the hour of ghosts, Theon awoke as he heard footsteps of boots outside the door to his chambers. He got to his feet and dressed quickly before walking down the spiral stairs of the Northeast Tower of the Great Keep.  He planned on going to the Godswood to pray but caught a glimpse of his brother Eddard and four guardsmen heading into the lower entrance to the guard tower. One looked like he was talking to Eddard and the other two seemed to be helping the third walk, as if helping a friend who drank so much ale he became passed out drunk and needed aid walking back to his quarters.

Theon didn't really think on Eddard's presence at the Guard House at that time, deciding to go to the Godswood to pray and contemplate being in a new home, with actual family for a change. Theon however wondered if he would ever settle down with a good woman, or if he would just resort to the occasional visit to the brothel whenever the rare urge strikes him for some more intimate company. Eddard popped into his mind again.  He commands direwolves like mother commanded wolves, thought Theon. Is he a warg like my mother who was so powerful she was cursed to become what she warged into ? Theon stood from his seated position undernead the Weirwood Tree, smiling as the winter wind gently blew through the leaves with its cryptic answer to the vague in his thoughts: Perhaps, Perhaps not.  

Theon chuckled, "No one ever accused the Old Gods of not having a sense of humor."  Theon said his thoughts out loud as he headed back the way he came.

As he passed into the Northern Ward, he caught his half-brother Eddard again speaking what appeared to be a septon and what appeared to be a missionary septa just outside the guardhouse. They seemed to have a pleasant conversation before they ended it with the septon and a septa heading north on foot out the Hunter's Gate.  He noticed Eddard holding a leather bag in his left hand. Theon swore it looked like the unique sort of bag normally fashioned to hold a few pounds of salt for preserving meat over time for long transport.

"Is my half-brother spending too much time with Lord Manderly's son Wendel and converting to the Seven?" said Theon playfully as he approached Eddard.

Eddard let out an oddly nervous laugh, "No."  Eddard's smile dropped as he said, "Meet me tomorrow morning in the kitchens when you break your fast. There's something I'll need your knowledge of certain Essosi for."

Theon nodded, "Okay. I will."

Eddard abruptly left nodding carrying his odd bag along with him. Theon could tell the way he carried it, there was something inside with some weight to it. Theon shrugged and decided to head back inside to catch some more shuteye before he would have to meet wit his brother.

The next morning just before dawn there was a commotion. It was discovered that Royce Bolton had committed suicide evidently via taking a dosage of a rare poison called the Melter, a poison from Mantarys which turns one's own blood into a corrosive liquid thereby literally melting the victim from the inside out.  This was per Maester Walys' examination of the body in the cell of the dungeons where he was found as well as the vial marked as containing such a poison in Ghiscari found next to the body.   Maester Walys did notice however Royce somehow appeared slightly shorter than he remembered him from the trial.  His father Lord Rickard and half-brother Brandon looked concerned when this was revealed.  Ser Rodrik Cassel stood by along with the guards as Theon saw his half-brother Eddard arrive.

"So Royce Bolton escaped," stated Brandon.

Lord Rickard Stark looked gravely at each of his sons before he looked to Ser Rodrik Cassel stating, "We'll need to start a search for ..."

Eddard interrupted, stating in an ominously calm voice,  "Royce Bolton is dead. There are others whom he owed a blood debt to and they came to collect."

Lord Rickard Stark looked at his son shouting angrily, "Who then?!?!"

Eddard stated calmly, "No one."

Brandon stated, "No need to get flippant Ned. I mean..."

Realization washed across Maester Walys face as well as Theon's as Theon stated, "I don't think our brother is being flippant, Brandon." The realization dawned on Lord RIckard Stark at that moment.

"Who paid for ... " he asked. "Faceless men command fees that are almost a deterrent as far as..."

Eddard calmly and stoically stated, "Royce Bolton owed no one his life. No one came to collect. No one was allowed to complete their task by House Stark.  House Stark has some limited protection from no one as a result."

Rickard Stark was silent and Brandon looked confused. Somtime later  out of earshot in his father's Solar, Theon explained this to Brandon and Rickard, "Eddard means Royce Bolton must have crossed the House of Black and White in Braavos. They came to kill Royce Bolton for the deed. Eddard cooperated with them and kept us out of their way. As a result, House Stark is off limits as far as any gifts for the Many Faced God. In other words, if someone wanted to hire assassins to kill any of House Stark, they will not be able to employ the House of Black and White to do the job."

Lord Rickard Stark merely nodded at the revelation as Brandon gulped stating something about needing some strong ale. Theon knew this was something not taken lightly but would not dwell on it as he had a gut feeling this business with the Rogar Bolton and his brothers, as well as whomever was backing them, was far from over.

Chapter Text

BARBREY VII
Morning, 24th Day, 10th Moon, 280 AC

Barbrey Ryswell woke up somewhat refreshed.  Eddard had entered the bedroom after a long late night. She had heard some talking out in the hall, voices which she could identify as Eddard and his brothers as well as his father but couldn't make out the details of their conversations. Lynara and Cregan raised their heads as Eddard enterred then lay back down, Lynara shifting her position so Cregan would have to give up part of the comfortable area on top of the fur rugs near the hearth.

"So what was that all about?" asked Barbrey as Eddard began taking out some fresh clothes from the trunk in his bedroom. This would be the more formal garb required for official functions although Barbrey thought to herself that one could wear one's everyday clothes to carry a chopping block for the condemned.

"Royce Bolton killed himself in his cell," said Eddard deadpan as he removed his boots. Barbrey could tell by the tone of his voice that this was the official answer. There was most likely more behind it but at this point she wasn't really up for asking further. Eddard shrugged,  "Well the gathering this afternoon having one less person at the announcement of the verdict and the sentencing. I suppose that will give me more time to locate that Lazoquo Ostelion of Myr and whomever from the Spears of Damnation that didn't get captured by Howland's father and the other Crannogmen Lords' forces. I asked Theon to check out some of the merchants setting up on in the stalls next to the tourney grounds to ... Why are you looking at me like that?"

Barbrey winked, "Well whilst that ginger half-brother of yours is investigating the merchants, perhaps you could use that extra time for having a little fun with your betrothed , minn Konungr ór Vetr ?"

Eddard stood there for a moment silent as Barbrey slowly pulled the furs away from her body revealing her naked form. Eddard took the cue, removing the rest of his clothing to indulge his betrothed in the affectionate activity she was offering to perform with him. 

Eddard and Barbrey arrived slightly late to the Great Hall. Lord Rickard narrowed his eyes at Eddard with a silent reprimand as Brandon and Lyanna looked like they were stifling a laugh. Benjen and Dacey appeared to be whispering something back and forth as Eddard and Barbrey took their seats

Lord Rickard Stark looked at Benjen and Dacey saying sternly, "Enough you two. Lord Manderly is about to begin. Pay attention, young Benjen to today as you will find yourself having to go through similar in the future in Achyldenloch."  Benjen and Dacey sat still being reprimanded and Benjen looked towards the Dómariþrír table.

Eddard had told her that the tables were setup in the same manner as they had been the day before. Barbrey herself had decided to sit the trial out however. Her father being a witness had enough to contend with, without her being present to distract him from his duty of delivering his honest and truthful testimony.  Eddard had noted that they were actually sitting where the witnesses to the trial were seated.

At one table facing the gathering of all the Lords of the North in seats on either side of the Great Hall were Lord Osric Umber, Lord Justan Flint and Lord Wyman Manderly who she remembered were chosen as judges or Dómariþrír.  To one side was a table facing perpendicular to the Dómariþrír table where Maester Walys and the maester from House Karstark were seated with quills ink and parchment, evidently recording the proceedings.  

Opposite the table where the maesters sat, a man with a very well-kept beard, who had a face which Barbrey thought made him look more like one of the grey rats than a Lord, stood next to Lord Rogar Bolton.  Barbrey was informed that this was Lord Tristram Lightfoot, who was the móttakfranr fólkrinn or essentially Lord Bolton's defense counsel.

In center of the Great Hall was a table with six bronze poles about a yard high on either side. They were paired with plaques in front of each of the holes reading 'Guilty' and 'Innocent' in Old Tongue Runes as well as Common Tongue Script as well as a number indicating the pair. There were also some baskets filled with pieces of bronze with holes in the middle, designed to be placed on the poles. Barbrey noticed that there were additionally

Lord Wyman Manderly stood from his chair and the hall grew quiet. The Lord of White Harbor began to speak , "There has been a development last night. I have been informed by Lord Rickard Stark and Maester Walys via his report that Lord Royce Bolton had taken his own life by ingesting poison. Out of respect for his position and the position of his House, it is the decision of the Dómariþrír  Umber, Dómariþrír  Flint and myself, Dómariþrír  Manderly, that we forgo the verdict and sentencing regarding Lord Royce Bolton. Maester Walys, Master-at-Arms of Winterfell Ser Rodrick Cassel, and Lord Steward Edric Poole have assured me his bones will be returned to the Dreadfort for the appropriate and respectful funerary arrangements to be made."

Lord Wyman Manderly took a deep breath, "That being said will the court scribes please step forward?"

The two maesters rose from the tables and stood in front of the Dómariþrír  table before Lord Wyman Manderly stated, "We will commence the voting on the verdict of guilty or innocent for Lord Rogar Bolton regarding the charges he has been accused of. The first charge is attempted larceny through the usurpation of a great House of the North and misuse of several laws on the books already regarding inheritance and regency.The second charge is attempted insurrection by ordering the raising of his armies against his liege lord. The final charge of which is treason against his liege lord.  The court scribes will distribute the tokens for voting on the first charge."

The two maesters walked around to all of the Lords with the baskets of tokens, ensuring that they only got one token per piece before returning to their seat. Lord Wyman Manderly stated, "The vote for Lord Rogar Bolton's guilt or innocence of the first charge of attempted larceny through the usurpation of a great House of the North and misuse of several laws on the books already regarding inheritance and regency will commence."

The Lords filed in an orderly fashion towards the table and placed their tokens on the pole corresponding to their votes. Barbrey noticed that the votes seem fairly split evenly although the voting seemed to be split by region and cultural background. Those accustomed to dealing with politics of the South had their doubts since the arguments felt fairly even on both sides and comprised the majority of the innocent votes. Those Lords more traditional Northern, traditional and somewhat isolated from the South seemed to vote for guilty. Those Lords serving as counsel or judges did not participate in the vote. Lord Karstark, Lord Ryswell, Lord Stark and Lord Reed did not participate in the vote due to conflicts of interest. 

Oddly all of the Crannogmen Lords voted Innocent.  Barbrey asked Eddard and his brothers a few days later out of curiosity. Theon had found out after speaking with Lord Alaryc Reed who had no knowledge of the reason until Theon found out himself.  The innocent vote was meant as a message to Lord Rickard Stark. House Frey engaged in similar practices as Lord Rogar Bolton with other houses and Hoster Tully was letting such slide. With the issue regarding House Blackmyre and House Charlton regarding House Frey's objections was still ongoing, things had escalated slightly to the point of actual low level skirmishes taking place along the borders between armed men wearing Frey and/or Terrick colors. These began after the assault on young Harmon Bog, third son of Lord Eldric Bog, who was heading South to the Isle of Faces. The skirmish was dismissed by Walder Frey as a misunderstanding although Harmon Bog had been detained at the Twins for a few days and looked as though he had been roughed up.  The message to Lord Rickard Stark was mainly for him to take a stance and lean on Lord Hoster Tully regarding the Blackmyre/Charlton issue and bring House Frey to heel. Barbrey had no doubt her betrothed and future husband would end up being the stick to Brandon's carrot when assisting Brandon's future goodfather to bring Walder Frey to heel.

The Lords had finished and the Maester from House Karstark tallied up the tokens for either side, counting them individually whilst still on the pole. Lord Manderly spoke up as the Maester raised his hand, "Maester Clydas, please relay the tally of votes on the first charge."

Maester Clydas spoke up, "The vote count for Innocent of the First Charge count is thirty eight. The vote count for Guilty of the First Charge is thirty seven."

 Lord Wyman Manderly discussed the vote for a few moments with Lord Osric Umber and Lord Justan Flint. The discussion was more of a mutual agreement by their body language rather than a debate.  After some nods, Lord Wyman Manderly stated, "Based on the vote cast by the Lords present, Lord Rogar Bolton is acquitted of the charge of attempted larceny through the usurpation of a great House of the North and misuse of several laws on the books already regarding inheritance and regency."

There were some hushed grumbles as Lord Rogar Bolton seemed to smile as if he was about to be declared innocent of the remaining charges. Lord Wyman Manderly spoke up, "The second charge is attempted insurrection by ordering the raising of his armies against his liege lord. The court scribes will distribute the tokens for voting on the second charge."

Barbrey watched Rogar Bolton's smile drop as the two maesters repeated their motions from earlier as did the Lords, casting their votes on the second pair of bronze poles. As the Lords took their seats it was fairly obvious that the tally would not be anywhere near as close as the last tally.

Maester Walys tallied up the tokens for either side, counting them individually whilst still on the pole. Lord Manderly spoke up as the Maester raised his hand, "Maester Walys, please relay the tally of votes on the first charge."

Maester Walys spoke up, "The vote count for Innocent of the Second Charge count is seven. The vote count for Guilty of the Second Charge is sixty eight."

Lord Wyman Manderly took a deep breath, saying gravely, "Based on the vote cast by the Lords present, Lord Rogar Bolton is found guilty of the charge of attempted insurrection by ordering the raising of his armies against his liege lord. Sentencing for this charge will commence after the vote on the final charge." 

And again Lord Wyman Manderly spoke up, "The final charge against Lord Rogar Bolton is treason against his liege lord. Will the court scribes will distribute the tokens for voting on the final charge?"  The two maesters noded and proceeded to distribute the last of the tokens to the Lord, ensuring that there was only one token per Lord. As the Lords finished before resuming their seats, one would have asked if a count was even needed. However, Barbrey realized the necessity of following the law and procedure of such until the end as did those who took oaths to be the Dómariþrír as well as everyone of the Lords present, even her own father who was sentenced to serving the Night's Watch for such.

Maester Clydas had opted to do the counting and he tallied up the count on both sides, ensuring he counted both accurately and all tokens had been accounted for. He stated, "The vote count for Innocent of the Final Charge is two. The vote count for Guilty of the Final Charge count is seventy three. "

Barbrey later found out that the two innocent votes seemed minor lords who were unconvinced that Rogar Bolton was the primary driving force behind the treason. Lord Thun of House Harclay of the Mountain Clans assumed Royce Bolton was and Rogar was merely taking the blame for his brother as Royce Bolton was the one who was leading the army. Lord Andric Moss had his own theory that Ryswell was behind it all and made Rogar Bolton his fall guy despite evidence to the contrary; this was based on a long standing decades old personal rivalry.

Lord Wyman Manderly took a deep breath, "Based on the vote cast by the Lords present, Lord Rogar Bolton is found guilty of the charge of treason against liege lord.  Will the Stark of the North approach?"

Lord Rickard Stark approached and stood in front of the Dómariþrír table, as Lord Manderly stated, "You have charged us with being judged, of performing as Dómariþrír  at this trial. We have weighed the evidence and ensured that the Lords of the North have heard all evidence which may condemn or exonerate Lord Rogar Bolton of the charges levied against him. He has been found guilty of two charges: treason against his liege lord and attempted insurrection against by ordering the raising of his armies against his liege lord."

Lord Wyman Manderly stated , "As Dómariþrír, I have as my duties of recommending a sentence for the condemned. As a follower of the Seven, I pray to the Father to guide me so that I may judge fairly and honestly without any malice. The punishment should be appropriate but quick. The charges are too severe for me to recommend that Lord Rogar Bolton be allowed to take the Black. Therefore I recommend the same execution method proscribed in the Laws of the Seven Kingdoms for treason: beheading by the sword."  There was some slight murmuring of approval from the Lords as he finished.

Lord Wyman Manderly then turned to Lord Osric Umber. The imposingly large man stated,  "As Dómariþrír, I also have as my duties of recommending a sentence for the condemned. However, I am both the blood of Giants and the blood of the First Men and I follow the old ways. Lord Rogar Bolton committed many unspeakable acts in the process of committing his crimes. If he did not actively do so, he either commanded or condoned their comission by his brother Royce and Elmar, both now departed from life to be judged only by the Old Gods. I would recommend execution in the manner he should have been over a decade ago: by the Old Way via the Bloody Cross in front of the Heart Tree in the Godswood."  There was slightly louder murmuring from some of the Mountain Clan Lords in approval.

Lord Osric Umber turned to Lord Justan of House Flint of Flints Finger. The elder Lord charged as a judge stated in a careful and precise voice, "As Dómariþrír, I also have as my duties of recommending a sentence for the condemned. I worship the Old Gods as does my esteemd colleague Lord Osric Umber.  But I am also a practical man and I see a little more of what is going on with those bloody Andals south of the Neck as do my esteemed neighbours in the Crannogs,and whether we like it or not they are also paying attention to this trial and its results." 

Barbrey could see Lord Rickard Stark stiffened slightly at the reminder that the Southrons may be watching how he deals with the Bolton problem. There was additional murmuring in the hall regarding Lord Justan Flint's comment.

"If Royce Bolton had not taken the coward's way out and faced the charges and was found guilty by our voted," continued Lord Justan Flint,  "I would have recommended the Bloody Cross for him for the seven individual counts of murder recently of some women including a servant of the Old Gods we all knew by the name of Weirwood Wylla. I would have supplied my own dragonglass knives for the act. The methods Royce Bolton used for those murders and the acts he committed during and after with the defiling of his victims' remains warranted such."  

Lord Justan flint paused again changing his tone of voice slightly, "However, Rogar Bolton is not guilty of his brother's crimes, nor have we proved beyond a shadow of a doubt he was completely complicit in his brother's.....perversions and blasphemies." Barbrey watched Lord Justan Flint pause before he continued. "I would recommend the same punishment as recommended by my esteemed colleague Lord Wyman Manderly: beheading by sword. Let the Old Gods judge his soul after it has left this plane of existence as to whether he is guilty or not of complicity with his brothers' offenses against them."

Lord Rickard Stark looked at the judges and stated rather loudly, "Thank you the advice given under the laws established by both the Kings of Winter and those of the Seven Kingdoms, Dómariþrírrin.  Your judgement is sound and you have fulfilled your obligations. Lord Osric Umber. Lord Justan Flint. Lord Wyman Manderly. You have judged fairly in the eyes of the Old Gods and the New as I have called you to do.  Svá munu þat!"

All three lords acting as judges said loudly in unison, "Svá munu þat!" before stepping down from the Dómariþrír table. Several Stark guards filed in surrounding Lord Rogar Bolton, as Lord Tristam Lightfoot took his leave of Lord Rogar Bolton having fulfilled his duties.

Brandon stood up as did Eddard walking over to the side of the Hall meeting with Ser Rodrick Cassel and a couple of guards. They did so as their father addressed the Lords and Lord Rogar Bolton, "Lord Rogar Bolton, you have been found guilty of treason against your liege lord and attempted insurrection by ordering armies be raised against your liege lord. As your liege lord, it is my duty to pass sentence upon you."

Ser Rodrick Cassell handed Brandon the ancestral greatsword Ice still in its scabbard as the two guards lifted rather heavy stone block with a divot fashioned specifically for no other purpose but executions. The stone block was old given the scoring near the edge of the divot where the blade would occasionally make contact with the edge of the stone during an execution.

"In the name of Aerys of the House Targaryen, Second of His Name, King of the Andals and the First Men, Lord of the Seven Kingdoms, and Protector of the Realm, I, Rickard of the House Stark, Lord of Winterfell and Warden of the North, sentence you to die for the charges of treason against your liege lord and attempted insurrection by ordering armies raised agains our liege lord."

Lord Rickard Stark turned to Brandon and Eddard who approached the center of the Great Hall. Barbrey was impressed with the strength Eddard seemed to show in carrying the executioner's block.  Eddard set the block down before backing away, taking a breath as the guards pushed Rogar Bolton into a kneeling position with his head on the executioner's block. Brandon handed his father Ice holding the scabbared as Lord Rickard Stark unsheathed it.

"Did you have any last words Lord Bolton?"

Lord Rogar Bolton was stoically silent for a few moments before looking at Eddard who was standing next to the block and saying something quietly him. Eddard bent down and said something quietly back before stepping back. Barbrey sensed Eddards' wolf presence increasing and swore she heard a slight growl from him as he stepped back.  

Lord Rickard Stark did not hear nor understand the exchange fully and preferred not to hesitate too long after passing the sentence. Rickard Stark lifted Ice as he had done in the past and ended Rogar Bolton's life in one swift stroke of Valyrian Steel.  The end was uneventful as the Lords began to file out as attendants came in with mops and buckets as well as a large pine box and began cleaning the mess created by the spilling of blood along with properly preparing the body for eventual internment back in the crypts of the Dreadfort.

Lord Rickard Stark headed for the Godswood with Ice to clean it and pray to the Old Gods for guidance. Barbrey found Eddard walking ahead with Theon Snow towards the tourney grounds as Brandon rushed to catch up with him. Barbrey and Lyanna were close behind and caught up just as Theon Snow was in mid-sentence.

".... meet you in the Old Keep afterwards. Just two of them but their going to attempt stealing them tonight," said Theon to Eddard.

"Understood. I'll sit down with you tomorrow to go over the plan for sending a message back to Vidar Tarraenos and his lov__ " said Eddard before Brandon slapped him on the shoulder. Barbrey could tell that Eddard knew who had done such due to the muted reaction.

"What in Seven Hells did Rogar Bolton say to you in there?" said Brandon somewhat angered.

Eddard calmly said, "He asked me, 'Do you think the dragons fear Hlioðrinn Stórrvargr ?'"  Barbrey saw Eddard's calm gaze being one which was more akin to Cregan or one of their wolves rather than a man speaking with his brother.

Brandon asked, "And your answer was...."

Eddard merely stated, "Ise jēda syt Zaldrīzoti keliton bōsa ago skori pōnta morghūltan tolī pōja Lilagon.  Sir iksis se Jēda syt Zokloti." Brandon was silent not understanding High Valyrian. Theon on the other hand whistled low. Barbrey and Lyanna caught a bit of what he said.  Before walking away, Eddard merely nodded saying to Theon, "Until later tonight." 

Barbrey noticed Eddard's hands and face as he walked away, his more lupine features beginning to show briefly if he became agitated.

Brandon looked at his siblings and asked, "Okay can someone tell me what he just said?"

Lyanna stated, "Something about 'dying for a dance' and a 'season of wolves'?  I should have paid better attention during my High Valyrian lessons."

Theon stated, "Eddard said, 'The time for the Dragons ended long ago when they died after their Dance.  Now is the time for Wolves.' "

Barbrey looked at Lyanna, both young women looking worried.

Brandon thought for a moment before having the realization what was just transpired between Rogar Bolton and Eddard. "Oh fuck," said Brandon. "Boltons might have been backed by the Crown. I can't confirm or deny it, but Rogar Bolton called Ned that nickname given to him by the Crannogmen and the smallfolk.  He point blank asked Ned if he feared the dragons which I assume meant the Crown and Ned's response in High Valyrian was essentially .... "

Theon completed the thought, "Fuck the Crown." Brandon, Barbrey, and Lyanna looked at Theon almost as if he blasphemed.

Brandon looked gobsmacked, "Not a good idea to start taking that attitude."

Theon stated, "Why not? They've no means for enforcing their will anymore. We're good as long as we confine the total story of what's been going on to the North and don't start boasting."

Brandon still seemed unconvinced, "He should let Father and I in on ... "

Theon interrupted, stating sarcastically, "Bloody hells, Brandon. Now I know how my ancestor Brandon Snow felt when his half-brother Torrhen told him that the very same thing that worked for the Dornish decade later against Meraxes at Hellholt might not work in putting the Dragons in their place. Eddard's got the right of it and he's keeping it low profile. After tonight we're finishing this and sending a message back."

Brandon stated, "To House Targaryen?"

Theon stated, "To Vidar Tarraenos and to the Queen.  Eddard's smart and what he's got in mind will give a man like Vidar Tarraenos pause. After the remaining sellswords are disposed of tonight and the remaining wildfire secured from harming Winterfell or anyone in it, you'll need to meet with Eddard and I along with Father and Lord Alaryc Reed. We will need to move fast in order to keep things quiet as far as any goings on regarding that Volantene's involvement and his involvement with House Targaryen. As far as the South is concerned, the only evidence anything was going on was  ..."

Brandon completed the sentence, "The Lords of House Bolton thought they were the Red Kings again and attempted a coup of the North and House Stark just put them down. Which is precisely what Father will be telling the Crown and everyone South of the Neck for that matter. The Crown's involvement will be the typical not giving a rat's ass about the North as long as the tax money still makes its way down to King's Landing."

Theon smiled, "Glad to see we're thinking along the same path, My Lord Brother."  Barbrey saw the mutual admiration between her future goodbrothers but was concerned for Eddard still. Lyanna could tell Barbrey was concerned and after years for growing up together was perceptive enough to see what her concern was.

"What about keeping quiet Eddard's recent changes, especially with that bloody song making it's way throughout the North and beyond as the bards travel?" asked Lyanna.

Brandon looked to Theon who was at a loss for words to the question, before saying, "I can work with our allies in the Vale and Riverlands to mute that into exagerrations by bards and smallfolk superstitions. Ser Denys Arryn is good friends with Eddard and is well aware of his combat prowess. If someone mentions an army of direwolves, I'll tell them that our soldiers fight as fierce as such and Eddard's companions fight alongside him just like any warhounds will. That will shut most nobles up from asking further especially when they're the type to look down their noses on smallfolk. "

Lyanna said, "What would father say?"

Brandon shrugged, "Pretty much the same thing. He's not looking to make waves with the South, at least not yet. Tomorrow morning we will need to meet so we can put this behind us."

Theon looked to Barbrey briefly, "Eddard knows what he's doing, goodsister."

Brandon opened his mouth for a moment as did Lyanna to correct Theon but thought better of it. Barbrey stated, "Eddard is not my husband as yet....we have yet to say our vows in ...."

Theon responded, "In front of the Old Gods? From what I've seen so far, I could swear that you've already done so in your hearts at least."  He smiled briefly before leaving towards the direction of the Maester's Tower where there was a quick route towards the tourney grounds in the Southeastern ward of Winterfell.  She smiled at the thought of Eddard's half-brother's impressions of her relationship with Eddard, but was uneasy with Eddard's increasing aggressiveness and the situation the North was currently in. She knew that the next day was critical, whether the future Howland Reed saw would come to pass or whether Eddard would prevent the wildfire explosion in the Old Keep which set them on that course or if they could change it.

Later on that day she did receive some good news from Bethany in the Dreadfort. The raven was brief:

Dearest Barbrey,

By now I'm assuming that the trial has begun for my goodfather and gooduncle. You may not receive this raven until sentences have passed. Roose has sent a raven earlier swearing fealty to House Stark as well as detailing any details he knew about Royce Bolton's operations and his father's involvement.  He is awaiting a response back from your future goodfather before we depart for Winterfell to formally swear fealty.

I do hope to see you soon and perhaps Father before he meets his fate for his involvement with this dreadful affair. I do hope our House does not suffer. Roger, Rickard, and little Roose had no involvement with father's vengeance against the Starks for Brandon's soiling of your honor.  I know in your last letter you and he were reconciling as goodfamily. I am hoping that such will translate into mercy for our House and for our father if he is repentant.

Both House Bolton and House Ryswell are in a bad state I'm afraid. Until Roose is recognized as the Lord of the Dreadfort and endorsed as such by House Stark, Roose Bolton has an uphill battle to regain the trust of the smallfolk as well as the minor lords, merchants and knights within our territory and neigbouring lands. I'm sure you've let Eddard and Brandon know what our mother house's state is with father.

Please do write back to let me know I can at least prepare my heart to bear the worst.

Ever Your Sister,

Lady Bethany of House Bolton and the Dreadfort.

Barbrey immediately procured quill, ink and paper to write her sister back, rushing over to the Maester's tower near dawn the next day. Looking out the window as Maester Walys prepared the Raven to deliver the message, she saw Theon, Brandon, Lord Rickard Stark, Ser Rodrick Cassell and several Stark guards near the entrance to the ward where the Old Keep and Crypts lay. A wagon was being moved slowly out of the Old Keep across the Tourney Ground presumably towards the Hunter's Gate.  Her worries ebbed as the wagon disappeared from view. Barbrey hurried towards the window facing south, Maester Walys watching her curiously. 

"I do enjoy the view from up high here in the Maester's Tower. It does alow me to spot incoming ravens fairly easily if one is expected," stated Maester Walys, noticing Barbrey's shuffling back and forth by the windows.

Barbrey watched the wagon slowly disappaear out the inner gate and leave the Hunter's Gate. She could barely make out a group of wagons in the distance which seemed parked near the Northern fork leading to the Kingsroad well away from the Castle.  Barbrey let out a sigh as she rushed back to the previous window to see the gathering outside of the entrance to the Old Keep having broken up but Brandon and Theon still standing there as if waiting. 

She saw Eddard emerge with a small chest in his arms. He handed it to Theon. There was some words exchanged between Brandon and Eddard before Eddard opened the chest to show Brandon what was inside before closing it and locking it. Brandon appeared to be slightly shaken at the sight of whatever was inside before nodding and walking off with Theon and the chest.   Four of the caretakers emerged shortly after carrying two large sacks, both of which were large enough to hold a man. They nodded to Eddard before heading in the direction of the West Ward towards the animal barns. 

Barbrey let a sigh of relief out as she had confirmation that future had been changed.

Chapter Text

EDDARD IX
Very Early Morning, 25th Day, 10th Moon, 280 AC

Lazoquo Ostelion did not hear him sneak up behind him with the blade of castle forged steel. Eddard had chosen two wield a butcher's heavy cleaver he had procured from the kitchens but with the blade end sharpened to an absurdly sharp edge.  This was not unusual for the kitchen staff to do given the amount of slaughtering that was needed to feed the Lords of the North during the Winter Gathering. If it can behead a pig or sheep in one swing, I'm sure it will work for a couple of unarmored Essosi sellswords. As the blood from the body sprayed on him as it fell, he stepped slightly out of the way in the dim light of Winterfell's crypts.

Eddard picked up Lazoquo's head looking into its eyes before placing it in the chest which once held three dragon eggs, now holding the heads of Lazoquo Ostelion, Maelor, and in the center the skeletal visage of Royce Bolton's faceless head.  Eddard shut the lid before grabbing the chest and walking back towards the entrance to the crypts.  He let out a short growl followed by his warging thoughts to the five direwolves in the crypts along with him, Go quietly back to the Godswood. You have done well, my pack. Eddard heard a few chuffs and snorts as he heard the heavy but silent steps of destrier sized direwolves rapidly padding out from the crypts.

Eddard immediately saw Theon Snow as he emerged from the Crypt entrance. His half-brother with kissed-by-fire hair and beard waved towards him in a serious manner from the large entrance to the Old Keep. There was a large wagon parked in the entrance with around twenty barrels the size of large ale casks in the back of the wagon. The wagon itself seemed heavy and weighted as Eddard leaned on it to look inside. The weight was supplied by what appeared to be packed dirt holding the casks in place. 

Theon Snow stated, "I think we found our wildfire."

Eddard replied, "Aye my natural-born brother. Go get the horsemaster and tell him I need two good-sized auroch steers. normally used for pulling ploughs in the fields, along with some stablehands to meet me here immediately. I want the most reliable steers. They're most likely less jumpy so there will be no sudden stops or starts, but still have the strength to pull this wagon slowly so we can get this as far away from Winterfell as we can."

Theon nodded, "Aye."

Eddard added, "After that notify Father and Brandon."

Theon ran towards the Belltower and entrance to the Central Keep as he looked to his right seeing a couple of direwolves stop to look at him before they continued padding along in the direction of the ward where the Hunter's Gate was, presumably headed for the Godswood. Eddard sat down briefly looking up at the relatively clear night sky. The sun had not as yet begun to rise and he looked at the stars, finally getting a few moments peace.

The brief peace was broken as the Horsemaster and three stablehands including  two rather large aurochs complete with their yoke and rein harnesses for pulling the wagon. Once hooked up,  Eddard instructed the horsemaster and stablehands to take the wagon to a specific remote location which would not damage any buildings or injure anyone should the widlfire be ignited.  One of the stablehands urged the aurochs slowly forward and they began the slow circle around the dirt floor of the round interior of the Old Keep, The slow turnaround took a good seven minutes with the two stablehands clearing any debris from the path which may cause any jolt in the wagon.  The wagon exited the Old Keep and was on its way into the Tourney Ground Ward en route to the North Ward and ultimately out Hunter's Gate as the horsemaster followed. Several Stark guards showed up and flanked the wagon of the wildfire, escorting it as it continued on its journey out of Winterfell.

Lord Rickard Stark, Brandon, Theon and Ser Rodrik Cassel along with some additional Stark guards showed up at the entrance to the Old Keep. Eddard looked to his father, "The wildfire is leaving the inside of Winterfell as we speak. I have taken the sellswords' heads. The immediate threat to House Stark and Winterfell has been averted."

Lord Rickard Stark asked, "Assuming you're parking that wagon where Lord Alaric Reed and the Crannogmen Lords directed their men to put the others?"

"Aye, the bottom of the bowl formed by some surrounding rocky hills halfway between here and the Wolfswood," said Eddard.

Brandon added, "Ned thought that might be best as if they do get set off, nothing gets damaged and any fire can be contained. I arranged some of my men to remove the grass for around ten yards around the perimeter to prevent any fire from spreading should they go off. Theon's idea"

Rickard looked to Theon, "Lots of wildfires in the Dothraki dominated grasslands. They would do similar to prevent any fires from spreading to prevent loss of feed for their horses. Something I learned whilst on a couple of jobs in Qohor."

Brandon looked to Eddard, "So what's the plan from here, Ned?"

"As far as the wildfire, I say we stick to the plan of sending up a convoy along with the Night's Watch," stated Eddard. "I'd suggest perhaps the Night Fort as, even though it's in ruin, there's extensive stone vaults there capable of storing the substance."

Lord Rickard Stark nodded, "Good idea. I'll ask Lord Osric Umber to send one of his trusted kin who can assist in the oversight of that, House Umber has used that as a base to intercept wildlings heading south in the past and House Umber and the Mountain Clans have been using it as a watch post for spotting wildling activity."

Eddard looked at Brandon and Theon Snow,  "I know you're going to Braavos after the Gathering, brother. I'd like you to perhaps take a detour pick up Theon and one of his men at Eastwatch-by-the-Sea.  Theon, I need you to  Eastwatch-by-the-Sea and drop off a package to a ship I believe of Tyroshi origin named 'Breath of the Dragon'."

Theon looked to Brandon "I'm assuming I'll be there whilst you're in Braavos," stated Theon looking to Brandon.

"Aye," responded Brandon. "Possibly. I'm not going to spend any longer there than need be. Ser Rodrik and I will be in and out due to the size of the exchange with the Iron Bank. I'll be sending a raven actually to you at Sea Dragon's Point once I leave back for White Harbor, Ned."

Eddard nodded before Theon chuckled before saying, looking to Eddard, "I'm assuming this is t deliver the message Gereigir líðinnr í heimarinn ór Hlioðrinn Stórrvargr  or Gaomagon daor māzigon ezīmagon se lenton hen Lyka Zoklīo ?"  Lord Rickard Stark nodded, not quite liking this but this had been discussed before two days previous along with Lord Alaric Reed whilst breaking their fast.

Theon stated, "If the Breath of the Dragon is one of Vidar's slaver ships, it's not going to Dragonstone directly. It will be on its return trip."

Eddard nodded, "I know." Rickard and Brandon shifted their stance somewhat confused. Theon had a face of realization. Eddard knew some of the ship names which transported slaves from parts of Westeros to Slaver's Bay. If the Breath of the Dragon was docked at Eastwatch-by-the-Sea, it was most likely there with captured wildlings as its cargo. The Night's Watch would look the other way in exchange for some necessities and some luxuries which were hard to come by at that Northern harbor. The route would take it straight to Pentos for a brief stop before heading to Tyrosh then Lys then on to Volantis and Slaver's Bay. Most likely there would be an exchange somewhere along the way. Given the nature of the cargo, it would either be picked up by Vidar Tarraenos himself in Volantis who will be leaving shortly thereafter with the package to Dragonstone or delivered to a trusted member of Vidar Tarraenos' household in Volantis to be delivered to Dragonstone where Vidar was already or was en route to.  They were looking at the package arriving in Volantis at least three or four moons after it leaves Eastwatch-by-the-Sea , therefore at least that long before Vidar Tarraenos receives the message.  Eddard thought if Vidar was not in Volantis and was notified, it could be a year before Vidar receives the message.

"Long time for a message to be received," stated Theon.

Eddard looked to Brandon and his father, "That allows us some ample time to secure the North further against any future attacks on House Stark and the people of the North. "

"The eunuch knew this when he passed us that message," stated Lord Rickard Stark who looked a bit uneasy, "He also knows you know it. He was brought here by the king himself after Duskendale."

Eddard thought for a moment, "Why then send us that particular note? He knows that I know of the ship's route as well as the fact the 'package' will not be what Vidar Tarraenos is expecting."

Rickard Stark asked, "And what is the package? And empty chest?"

Eddard stated somewhat cryptically,  "The results of what happens when you threaten House Stark in a way most Essosi slavers will understand."

Brandon stated, obviously curious, "Could you be more sprecific?"

"The note I'm sending is addressed to him and it will in Old Tongue, as our brother Theon had guessed, Gereigir líðinnr í heimarinn ór Hlioðrinn Stórrvargr."  The phrase meant Do not enter the home of the Quiet Direwolf with the word enter having the context of entering uninvited with ill intent.  It was a similar phrase rumored to have been carved in runes on the forehead of the corpse of Argos Sevenstar and was a reference to Theon the Hungy Wolf. It was a clear message to Vidar Tarraenos he was not welcome in the North. To those surrounding Vidar Tarraenos once he receives such, Eddard was also aware that a peripheral message might eventually be conveyed by this that Eddard is the Stark to be feared, his elder brother Brandon who was being groomed as the Stark who will be more easily loved by those South of the Neck.  "I'm including the heads of the sellswords in the chest in place of the dragon eggs."

Rickard Stark asked with concern, "Assuming Aerys finds out?"

"Finds out what?  House Stark sent a message to the Volantene that's cuckolding him with his wife, Queen Rhaella, to stay out of the North?" said Eddard sarcastically. "As paranoid and prideful as I've heard the king to be,  he'd most likely be focusing more on Vidar Tarraenos' having his way with his wife and whether Prince Daeron and Prince Viserys are actually his. I'd bet the eunuch also knows this."

Eddard's father hissed, "I meant about the dragon eggs..."  Four of Edric Poole's caretakers stopped next to Eddard who motioned towards the crypts. Two of them seemed to be carrying large sacks with them.

Eddard stated with some quiet force, "What dragon eggs, father? As far as the anyone outside of our pack, they don't exist. And that is what we'll say to the rest of the North and the Seven Kingdoms." 

Brandon's smile dropped a bit more as he knew that was why he was hurrying back from Braavos and making his trip for withdrawing funds a quick in and out venture with Ser Rodrik Caseel and some of the more skilled house guards accompanying him. 

Eddard noticed perhaps he'd gone a bit too far as he continued quietly to his father, "By the way, from what I've heard so far from Lord Rodrik Glover, Sea Dragon's Point as far as its design and defenses make it fairly secure and relatively impenetrable."  The implication without saying anything was that the dragon eggs would be held there, most likely in one of the secure vaults of Sea Dragon's Point. As far as the terrain, the Castle Sea Dragon's Point was similar to Casterly Rock in that it was essentially a large slab of rock accessible from the rest of the surrounding landscape by a single route. Sieging it is nigh impossible. The Castle at Sea Dragon's Point had one advantage over Casterly Rock in that there were no mines underneath it which may provide additional entrances to keep secure.

Lord Rickard Stark seemed to relent for the moment, "Very well."  He turned to Ser Rodrik Cassel stating, "I'll need to see Lord Alaric Reed, Lord Osric Umber and Lord Wyman Manderly first thing as soon as they break their fast in my Solar. Brandon you should be there too."  Lord Rickard Stark left along with the Master-at-Arms of Winterfell whilst Brandon and Theon remained.

Eddard went to retrieve the chest in question and returned, followed by the four caretakers carrying something heavy in two of the sacks they carried with them. Brandon and Theon overheard as Eddard instructed them to chop up the remains and combine it the offal and grain being used to feed the domesticated boars in barn. It was obvious these were the remains of the sellswords to Brandon and Theon.

Brandon looked to Eddard and stated, "So what's in the chest really?"

Eddard opened the chest, showing the heads of Lazoquo Ostelion of Myr, Maelor his fellow sellsword, and a head with it's face ripped off down to the bare muscle tissue. However the dark hair which seemed well taken care of and the eyes like chips of dirty ice was a dead giveaway. This was Royce Bolton's head.

Theon asked, "So that wasn't Royce Bolton's body in the cells...."

Eddard shook his head to confirm the answer Theon already knew. Theon whistled low, as Brandon felt himself becoming slightly unsteady , stating,  "Seven Hells, Ned. You're basically telling  a Volantene the level of an Archon that you are on very good terms with the House of Black and White."

Brandon stated, "Perhaps you should rethink sending anything...."

Eddard looked at Brandon, "Vidar Tarraenos was willing to burn down Winterfell as a distraction for his sellswords to get away and deliver to him what was in this chest initially, Bran. He's already lost a lot of face after Lord Arryn's scouring the Vale of his operations and destroying at least one of his companies of sellswords. The Spears of Damnation are no more thanks to the Crannogmen under the command of Lord Alaric Reed and my killing of the two remaining members. This is a message which will give closure."

Brandon looked to say something as he opened his mouth but Theon held up his hand as Eddard continued, "In a way I am telling Vidar Tarraenos that my relationship to him is very similar to the relationship the Faceless Men had with Vidar Tarraenos' ancestors. I am a slave who rebelled against his oppression. This is a warning he will truly understand on a personal level."

BENJEN III
Late Morning, 29th Day, 10th Moon, 280 AC

Benjen relaxed in the empty Great Hall near on of the large Hearths with his betrothed Dacey asleep with her head on his shoulder, their young direwolves Shadow and Snowbear napping in front of the Hearth keeping warm. He reminisced on the events of the past few days.

The grievances between House Glover and House Umber had been resolved finally with his betrothal to Dacey Glover . A Glover lady, daughter of Toregg, would be the Lady of Achyldenloch. It was agreed as well that one of Lord Osric's younger sons would be trained by the current Steward of Achyldenloch to take his place, in a role similar to the men of House Poole in Winterfell, and Ethan Glover upon his knighthood after serving under Lord Brandon Stark as squire would be brought in as the apprentice and future Master-at-Arms of Achyldenloch.  

There were several other grievances and petitions brought before Lord Rickard Stark and his heir Lord Brandon Stark. Benjen noticed that Lord Brandon began addressing every one of them save for those pertaining to relations with parties outside of the north.  At the end of the petitioning it was formally announced to the Lords that Brandon will be handling a greater bulk of the duties of Lord Paramount for internal Northern Matters. It was hinted heavily that Brandon will be more or less becoming the Lord Paramount of the North upon the birth of his first heir once he and Lady Catelyn Tully are wed in a couple of years, and Lord Rickard Stark will be stepping down and taking on the duties of "ensuring his grandchildren by all of his sons and daughter are being brought up properly". Benjen read that as Lord Rickard will be relaxing and spending time some long overdue quality leisure time with those of Stark blood, young and old.

There were a few betrothals announced between Houses including Benjen's own to Dacey. Eddard and Barbrey announced that they have signed their betrothal agreement and would perform the ceremony on the twenty-ninth day of the tenth moon. They would be leaving with Lord Rodrik and Lady Maege Glover and the entourage from Seas Dragon's Point afterwards to take their place as the castle's Lord and Lady.  Eddard would be working with Lord Orthanc Slate and Lord Wendel Manderly on the massive improvements planned for the lands of the Sunset Coast, mainly road construction as well as the construction of Rillstone Harbor.  Benjen knew he'd be busy on his own with similar planning on parcelling of land and logistics of preparing for the next growing season.

Lord Roose Bolton had arrived with Lady Bethany Bolton late last night and immediately had sworn fealty in a longer formal ceremony upon his arrival along with the ritual for guest rights. Lady Bethany it appears had been rendered mute but was able to communicate quite well with her sister Barbrey.  Benjen had observed Bethany, Barbrey, and Lyanna carrying on like they had in the past as girls growing up, maybe in a more mature manner.  Oddly it seemed there was no friction at all between Roose and Eddard. They oddly seemed to get along, in spite of or possibly because of Eddard's unique attributes.

The wedding was to be tonight at Sunset and Dacey would be assisting as one of the 'sisters' with helping Barbrey get prepared along with Lyanna and Bethany.  For now she needed sleep as it had been a rather busy and exciting past few days with feasts every night along with activities during the day. Soon however it would all end, he would go to Achyldenloch. Dacey would go with her mother and new stepfather to Eddard's castle. Brandon would take a trip to Braavos as their half-brother Theon will be travelling with the convoy of wildfire barrels bound for storage at the ruins of the Nightfort at the Wall.  The only person not leaving was Lord Howland Reed still in his seemingly calm dreamless slumber since his apparently long and unique greendream a few days prior.

Benjen elbowed Dacey as she woke up, "Dace, you're going to need to get ready with Lyanna for tonight then help Barbrey with Lya and Lady Bethany,"

Dacey groggily nodded before snapping awake and standing rapidly, "Yes...yes...must hurry..."  Dacey seemed in a panic as Snowbear sensed her mistress' sense of urgency. Dacey gave Benjen a quick peck on the cheek before running off out of the hall.

Shadow yawned as he awoke looking at Snowbear and Dacey bounding out of the Hall as he looked to Benjen somewhat confused. We probably need to get going to, Shadow, thought Benjen to his direwolf, as Shadow got slowly to his feet and they headed towards the Great Keep at a leisurely pace.

Chapter Text

DACEY III
From the Journal of Lady Dacey Glover, 12th Moon, 282AC

As I rode Morninglight through the snow in the Wolfswood, I saw that it is still winter. But the path I rode along is much different than what I remember before. Lord Eddard Stark, my future goodbrother, along with a number of other Lords of the North had engaged in a long campaign to build roads across the area surrounding his territory west of the Kingsroad to the Sunset Sea. The path I ride on did not exist in the form it is now. It was just the edge of the Wolfwood on the south edge. Once an informal worn dirt path, it has been made a formal road, albeit not paved, meant as a service road to the major roads being finished as I write this connecting Sea Dragon's Point to Grey Harbor to Rillstone Harbor and Rillstone Harbor to Barrowton to the Kingsroad. 

The year that brought so much joy but ended badly was aptly called the Year of the False Spring. War has come to Westeros with the actions of a foolish Crown Prince then the Mad King bringing not only Four Kingdoms aligned against him, but the Wrath of the Direwolves as well. I am almost three and ten namedays old. Snowbear is only about two but she's become as big as my own courser.  I am heading to Winterfell at my mother's blessing, so I may support my betrothed as he is to be the Stark in Winterfell whilst the War began South  of the Neck.  The last time I was in Winterfell was barely two years ago and those were happier times. Before the bard's song 'Hlioðrinn Stórrvargr' began to become a chant for blood and vengeance. 

I should not be riding Lyanna's own palfrey back to Winterfell. I want my sister Lyanna back. Barbrey wants her sister back. Bethany wants her sister back. My infant nieces and nephew want  their Aunt Lyanna back. She bade me to take care of Morninglight and return her to Winterfell to prepare her for the journey to Storm's End. Lyanna and Brandon never returned from the Riverlands. Then Lord Rickard Stark, my future goodfather, never returned. This was when my future goodbrother, Hlioðrinn Stórrvargr himself, became angered and led tens of thousands of Northern warriors South.

My fondest memory of that time was just before we left Winterfell. I remember there was a lot of goings-on with a trial and an execution, as well as some issue with a couple of brigands, and a convoy of wagons leaving for the Wall a little after my mother and stepfather headed with our Lord and Lady to the castle at Sea Dragon's Point.  But the wedding - the day of, the ceremony, the feast and afterwards - of Lord Eddard and Lady Barbrey always sticks in my mind as a fond memory. Most of all the time when we she-wolves of the North came together as sisters...

~~~~~

Morning , 27th Day, 10th Moon, 280 AC

"Bloody Seven Hells!" yelled Lyanna as Barbrey pulled on the laces to her corset as she held onto Dacey's shoulders in Lyanna's chambers. Dacey had a hard time keeping a straight face as Lyanna's own facial expression was actually comic.

Barbrey stated, "That's as tight as they'll go. I can’t really get the last loop done. I think you may need to get refitted, Lya. I think your bosom is growing larger as you approach five and ten namedays, not that your betrothed will be complaining.”

Lynara let out a slight whimper and a wag of her tail before chuffing at Barbrey who chuckled as if laughing at a jape. Lya merely said, looking at Lynara, "You all are ganging up on me.”

Barbrey said letting out a chuckle of her own, "As I said last week regarding your figure, the Old Gods gift us in different ways, Lya."

Lyanna chuckled, "I suppose I shouldn’t complain. After Harrenhal and Brandon’s wedding in Riverrun, I’ll be off to the Stormlands to become a Lady Paramount and I’ll have my stag to mount …”

Dacey seemed to miss the innuendo and said, “I want to come with you for that!”

Lyanna gave Dacey an odd look, as Barbrey understood the misunderstanding, “Dacey, love, Lyanna was not referring to her going hunting for elk or deer. She meant she will be … spending a lot of time kissing her betrothed … well,  husband by then … Lord Robert Baratheon.”

Dacey donned a face of finally understanding as Lyanna lewdly stated, “Oh , there will be more than kissing.”

Barbrey reprimanded Lyanna slightly, “Lya.”

”Nothing you and Ned haven’t been doing almost every night since the day after Brandon arrived, Barb.”

Barbrey sighed, “Well one good thing after tonight. I won't have to worry about moon tea, unless ordered by the Maester of Sea Dragon’s point.” Barbrey finished with Lyanna’s corset lacing, tying the laces neatly abd tucking them back, .“Okay you’re ready for the handmaidens to help you with your gown, Lyanna. Your turn now, Dacey.”

Lyanna switched places with the Dacey as the young girl braced herself on Lyanna's shoulders as she had been doing with Dacey previously. Dacey felt the cinching a bit but it was not as intense as her garment was fitted for her age. She looked over her shoulder, "I hear our other sister will be here for the wedding."

Barbrey nodded, "Lady Bethany Bolton just arrived this morning from what Eddard was telling me as he left the room at dawn. She and her husband Roose Bolton have been busy with Lord Rickard Stark, Brandon and Eddard all morning."

Lyanna added, "I'm guessing the bulk of it is House Bolton essentially having to start all over with its vassal agreements to House Stark. My guess is they're signing all the agreements, probably negotiating future fosterings and then getting ready for this afternoon when Roose Bolton swears fealty of House Bolton to House Stark."

Barbrey stated, "Then my older sister Bethany should be free to join us in finishing the preparation for tonight."

Dacey asked, "Looks like we're all wearing Stark Grey and White gowns. But we're not Starks yet, Barbrey? Are we?"

Barbrey nodded, "The truth of the matter is that since it is Winter still, dyes for the fabrics have been hard to come by. We had to make do with what was available in Winterfell. However, since it is Winter and we must wear our cloaks, there is no issue.  Bethany will be wearing hers which is of black mink but has a pink and red lining and her clasp is shaped like the Flayed Man sigil of House Bolton. Lyanna will obviously be wearing her cloak with the color of House Stark. I have my maiden cloak with the colors and sigil of House Ryswell. Your mother dropped off your cloak this morning. White Snowbear fur with crimson lining and the sigil of House Glover of Sea Dragon's Point."  Barbrey finished lacing the corset on Dacey and went to fetch something from the armoire. She returned with a dragonglass clasp bound in silver and painted.  The clasp was shaped like a shield divided into four quadrants, the upper left and lower right showing the silver gauntlet on scarlet background of House Glover, and the upper right and lower left showing a black bear on a green background of House Mormont.  Dacey marvelled at the new heraldry for the House she now belonged to until her own wedding to Benjen Stark, where she will be the Lady of House Stark of Achyldenloch., which itself will have its own unique banner."

Lyanna chimed in, "We'll have the clasp attached to your cloak before we'll need it tonight for the ceremony in the Godswood."

Barbrey smiled, "In four years time, all your sisters will be preparing your own maidencloak for your own wedding in Achyldenloch."

Dacey thought about that for a moment, "Even Lady Catelyn?"  Lyanna seemed to stiffen for a moment trying to gauge Barbrey's reaction.

Barbrey merely smiled, "Yes, even Lady Catelyn. And most likely her daughters along with mine, Bethany's, Lya's as well as her sister Lysa's will be pitching in to help as well."

Lyanna paused, "But they'd be toddlers at most, Barb."

Barbrey replied with the statement that rang very true to Dacey's ears, "Just like everyone of us, they will still be the daughters of the North, descendants of the Kings of Winter. Sisters of the North."

~~~~

From the Journal of Lady Dacey Glover, 12th Moon, 282AC

With my arrival in Winterfell I had overheard news from Rillstone Harbor that Lord's Castle had been completed as well as the Great Sept. On the latter, apparently the building was completed, but, due to the ongoing war, the High Septon and those at the Starry Sept in Oldtown would not be able to consecrate it until all of the hostilities ended.  Rumor has it that it's as large as the Sept in White Harbor. 

I did ask Benjen about this as we worship the Old Gods. Benjen said this was part of a long standing agreement between House Manderly and House Stark that had existed for thousands of years, as he told me how that there is a real Godswood just outside Rillstone Castle, planted and tended by Crannogmen from House Greengood and blessed by Selene the Siren, a woods witch native to the Stoney Shore.

It is amazing how much that area had changed in the past four years from two separate fishing villages into a harbor town with docks which are as large as those in White Harbor.  The two 'guardian fortresses' perched on islands just outside the harbor

I asked Benjen about Achyldenloch and he said that the change was more subtle: where there was once just wild moors with the occasional outcropping of rocks are now fields with orderly furrows awaiting the coming of spring for planting, but the overall terrain is about the same. Achyldenloch itself however is unrecognizable from what Queenscrown once was with the castle being reconstructed on the shores of the lake instead of its previous site which placed it in the middle of the same lake.

I thought briefly on what our wedding will be like in three years. It would be nice if the Old Gods see it fit to have Summer begin to end that year as we would be able to combine it with a grand Harvest Celebration. I also wonder if I will give him sons or will I bear daughters like my mother, having just delivered my sister Lyra about a year and a moon ago. Lady Bethany Bolton gave birth to Myranda ten moons ago ? Or will I have twins like Lady Barbrey Stark who had Beron and Lysara only eight moons ago ?  

I spoke with Lady Anna Cassel, who had just married Turin Cassel who was due to go back to House Cassel's lands just south of Long Lake to assist his older brother as master-of-arms at his own holdfast about this once I arrived at Winterfell. She told me I should just live my life as it comes. Enjoy my time as a girl before worrying about being a lady. Enjoy my wedding before I begin to worry about children, house and home.   The one memory I did enjoy was the wedding of Lord Eddard and Lady Barbrey of House Stark of Sea Dragon's Point and how Lyanna, Bethany, Barbrey, and I began to become sisters.

BRANDON VI
Selections from the Journal of Lord Brandon Stark, 11th Moon 280 AC to 3rd Moon 281 AC

11th Moon, 17th Day:

The day after Ned showed me the heads in the chest everything began moving at a fast pace. 

Lord Roose Bolton arrived near dawn with his entourage and his wife Lady Bethany Bolton nee Ryswell. Maester Walys prepared the documents of fealty and the agreements between House Stark and House Bolton. At the end of a four hour session, House Bolton was once again bound by oaths and document to House Stark.  Two hours later, House Bolton and House Stark were tied together by the blood of their Ladies, when my brother, Eddard, wed Barbrey Ryswell, now Lady Barbrey of House Stark of Sea Dragon's Point, sister to Lady Bethany of House Bolton of the Dreadfort.  There was some idle discussion during the feast of a possible future betrothal between sons and daughters of both to further seal the breach, although Eddard wanted to table the discussion until later. He seemed more interested in the development of the Sunset Coast and working with his vassals, as well as:settling down with Barbrey as Lord and Lady of House Stark of Sea Dragon's Point. I feel the real reason however is the same one I have: our worries are more about defending against external threats than internal at this point. Development of the Sunset Coast also includes facilities to do so.

Almost a fortnight passed before the rest of the Crannogmen arrived along with some sellsword prisoners from the South. A day later, the Black Brothers from the North at the Wall coming down for new recruits. Time was getting close to where myself and my half-brother Theon Snow would be leaving Winterfell.  A large convoy consisting of House Umber, House Karstark, several of the Crannogmen Houses and those present from the Night's Watch and their recruits/conscripts would be heading north along the Kingsroad.  House Umber and House Karstark will part ways with us just past Achyldenloch on the Kingsroad; my youngest brother Benjen and his Regent will be travelling with us as well to Achyldenloch.   From there the rest of the convoy will continue to the Wall,  I was told the GreatJon will remain with the Crannogmen and travel to the Nightfort with the confiscated barrels of wildfire. The rest of the convoy will continue to Castle Black with the conscripts along with Lord Rodrick Ryswell who will begin his sentence upon arrival.

Theon and I will then travel along the top of the Wall with our men to Eastwatch-by-the-Sea disguised as Black Brothers, we will deliver the chest to the captain of the Breath of the Dragon and depart for Braavos two days after the departure of the Breath of the Dragon. If all goes well we should be back in Winterfell in plenty of time for me to work with father to finish getting the North in order prior to that big tourney in the Riverlands. 

12th Moon, 4th Day:

Lord Alaric Reed was not going to be joining our convoy as he had decided to stay on as his son and heir Howland still lay in a long deep sleep after what I had been told by my brother was an intense Greendream.  Selene the Siren, a woods witch from near the Cape of Eagles was the first of apparently several woods witches who arrive at Winterfell seeking to visit Howland en route to Blóðúlfr Hagi, the Meadow of the Bloody Wolf.  When I questioned her, she explained they were heading there to consecrate the ground with the blessings of the Old Gods.  There had been an influx of woods witches to this particular location ever since the massacre of Royce Bolton's army in that field by my brother and his direwolevs, but this wood witch seemed different. I suppose based on my brief experiences in the Riverlands and at White Harbor with those who have faith in the New Gods, it was similar to the difference between being used to talking to a mere mendicant brother of the Seven and then being confronted by a High Septon,

When I questioned her about her concern with Howland, she merely smiled and told me that those who are instruments of the Old Gods care for their own and said something about Howland being the father of the Greenseer who will care for the grove of Hjartatré (Heart Trees) in Blóðúlfr Hagi, and that the child will play a crucial role in the coming Long Night.  Both Jyana and Lord Alaric were also as shaken at the revelation as I was.

1st Moon, 15th Day:

Arrived at Castle Black. Received raven from Lord Quagg from the Nightfort. Wildfire stowed successfully and secured in the vaults of that castle. They would be spending another fortnight building some walls within the Nightfort to conceal the corridors leading to the storage rooms in the cellar.   He would send two men back with the map of such to deliver only to Lord Commander. Lord Quagg spoke of some disturbing 'graffiti' scrawled on the walls of one of the corridors, written half in Old-Tongue half in classical High Valyrian, which seemed to be referencing the Long Night.  He indicated that the inscriptions seemed 'fairly recent' in comparison to the age of the Wall.

I'd never seen the ceremony for the Night's Watch taking their oaths but I knew I had to bear witness as Lord Rodrik Ryswell said his. The last thing I expected afterwards however was a lengthy conversation with the aging Maester of Castle Black.

~~~~~

Sunset 15th Day, 1st Moon, 281AC

Brandon watched the ceremony with his half-brother Theon Snow as both criminals and fourth sons of Lords became brothers of the same black cloth, dedicated to protecting the realms of men. Lord Rodrik Ryswell did his duty and exchanged the colors of House Ryswell for the Black of the Night's Watch.  He heard a voice from behind him as they arrived in the castle courtyard from the tunnel beneath the Wall.

"I see my bastard relative, the former Lord Commander, was right in what he told me before he disappeared on his final ranging: I would meet one of Cregan's descendants when the wolves begin to rise again," came the voice of a relatively old man. Both Brandon and Theon turned around to see an older man dressed in what appeared to be a maester's robes, albeit in all black rather than the muted grey color they were normally seen in, wearing a maester's chain about his neck comprised of various metals, leaning on a cane made from blackthorn wood.

"You are correct, Maester. I am Brandon, Son of Rickard of House Stark of Winterfell," replied Brandon.

"Let us hope you are as wise at least as Cregan's son, Brandon."

Brandon motioned to Theon, "This is my half-brother, Theon Snow, Son of ... "

The old maester responded in an almost dismissive tone, "The Wolfmother. Not a descendant of Cregan Stark but the oathbreaking bastard Brandon Snow, Half-brother of former king, Torrhen Stark."  The old maester chuckled

Theon's brows furrowed as the old maester smiled slightly as his words seemed to have had the desired effect, "Brandon Snow never bent the knee to that silver-haired sisterfucker nor did he promise to. Torrhen should  have listened to my ancestor had placed his invention atop Moat Caillin and ended the life of the dragons just like the Dornish did to Meraxes at Hellholt." 

Aemon frowned reponding, "Perhaps I should write my nephew that he should consider when he eventually faces your younger brother Eddard that he use weapons tipped with silver and dipped in wolfsbane? How he may bring low the mighty Hlioðrinn Stórrvargr ? "

Brandon noticed the violet pupils of the old maester, and remembered his history, "Maester Aemon Targaryen I presume. Perhaps the two of us should speak in private."  Brandon motioned for Theon to return to their quarter. Theon hesitantly departed after Brandon stated, "We will speak later, brother, on our next task for the North."

Aemon responded to Brandon, "Perhaps we should."

Once in the keep beneath the rookery, they entered maester's quarters. Aemon offered Brandon some ale and some salted bread, an informal gesture of peace between two men reminiscent of guest rights. There was much to discuss, "I will admit I did take my vows twice over, once as a maester and once as a Brother in Black, such that my concerns should not be of the Realm. My house should not be any of my concern.  But those of us who are came here from the great houses would be liars if we said we didn't have anything but grave concern for the future of the Houses we've left behind. First Ranger Ilyn Stark, last living son of Benjen, son of Artos 'The Implacable' Stark,  said the same before his watch ended almost a decade ago when he received news of your brother Eddard's disappearance."

Brandon shifted in his seat, "You see an ascendant House Stark as a threat to House Targaryen, I take it."

"I would be lying if I said I didn't."

"You mentioned Hlioðrinn Stórrvargr," said Brandon calmly. "Then you must know why he is called that and happened such that a certain part of the North is now being called Blóðúlfr Hagi, the Meadow of the Bloody Wolf ."

Aemon nodded, "Your brother Eddard embodies the very sigil of House Stark. More importantly, he has control and command of the beasts that embody the sigil of House Stark even more than House Targaryen ever did with any of our dragons."

Brandon stated, "Then perhaps you should advise your nephew to remember that when he decides to make a royal decree that alienates the North like he did the Westerlands."

Aemon responded, "Aerys is not whom I am corresponding with. Egg's children never listened to me or anyone else giving them the proper advice. His grandson , Aerys is even more foolish and deluded.  The nephew I was referring is Rhaegar, he is a little more level-headed. Although I will admit he does exhibit the same delusional self-importance his father exhibited at that age."

Brandon stated, "And his brothers?"

Aemon paused, "Viserys is still a young boy. But I fear he will be much like his father: a dragon in temper but not in fortitude."

Brandon continued, "And Daeron?"

Aemon remained slient, 

Brandon then stated, "Is Daeron a 'Strong' young man?"  There were no rumors of madness or oddity about Daeron other than he was much healthier than his other two siblings as an infant and toddler. Interactions between the Crown and Volantis had increased markedly immediately after his birth and the first couple of years.  Rhaella was also seen in the company of one of the brothers of one of the Triarchs negotiating with Volantis on Dragonstone several times.  Brandon's reference was a veiled suggestion that Daeron may be like Jacaerys Velaryon and his brothers who were rumored to have been sired by Harwyn Strong  rather than Rhaenyra's husband Laenor Velaryon. 

Aemon caught the reference however and defeatedly nodded to the affirmative as Brandon stated quietly, "House Stark has no quarrel with House Targaryen at the moment. We do however have a significant quarrel with Vidar Tarraenos."

"My niece Rhaella won't take kindly to that," said Aemon. "Rhaegar had stated in his last letter that his mother was excited and that had been promised their legacy by her 'Volantene Friend' which had been stolen by Rickard Stark."

Brandon scoffed, "Stolen, eh?"

Aemon oddly stated, "I would have done the same thing in your father and grandfather's shoes. I met your great uncle Artos once. Back around 237AC, Artos was coming back from Deep Lake with several chests full of gold as well as several documents.  He stopped by Castle Black.  Artos and his sons, Bloodraven and I had a long talk after reading the documents. Correspondence between Cregan Stark and Aegon Third of His Name and his successors.  Cregan Stark's journals regarding his increasing disappointment with both House Stark and House Targaryen."   The aged maester sighed, "My dear relative seemed more interested than I was at the time but I understood why Cregan did what he did and later why your father did what he did with those Dragon's Eggs."

Brandon nodded as Aemon asked, "Does House Stark still have Dragon's Eggs in its possession? "

Brandon frowned, "That you will have to ask my brother, Hlioðrinn Stórrvargr."

Aemon sighed countering, "I am not your enemy, Lord Brandon"

Brandon stated, "You may not be Maester. However, I, as well as my brothers, are not sure how involved members of House Targaryen are involved with Vidar Tarraenos and his actions against House Stark, in particular my brother Eddard, Maester Aemon."   Brandon paused before revealing, "There should another convoy arriving from the North from the Nightfort consisting mainly of Crannogmen Lords. They will have stashed at least a hundred barrels of 'wildfire'. They were bound for Winterfell and intercepted in the Neck. One wagon however did get through with around a dozen barrels. There was collusion with House Bolton, in particular Royce Bolton, who wanted to do what two Red Kings of his namesake tried but failed to do: Burn Winterfell to the ground."

Aemon looked shocked as Brandon continued, "Vidar Tarraenos sent two thieves to steal that chest from Cregan Stark's tomb in the crypts to obtain three dragon's eggs for his lady love, Queen Rhaella. Vidar Tarraenos would have killed hundreds of people including several Lords of the North in order to get a hold of three dragon's eggs."

Aemon frowned, "I'd say I would be accurate in assuming the chest in your possession does not contain dragon's eggs but a message meant for Vidar Tarraenos."

Brandon nodded, "And, most likely will be interpreted as one to any of House Targaryen acting in collusion with Vidar Tarraenos."

Aemon nodded, "I see. It is inevitable that our Houses may go to war."

Brandon thought for a moment, "Not necessarily. I've heard some stories that the Tourney being organized by House Whent may be more than just a large tourney designed to bring the Lords and Ladies from all corners of the Realm."

Aemon nodded, "You would be correct in assuming so."

Brandon said, "Perhaps Rhaegar and I should have a talk. If he's as levelheaded as you, then perhaps he and I may be able to pick up where the Old Man of the North and Aegon the Younger left off."

The aged maester and the young Northern Lord drank took a drink of their ale,  hoping for a brighter future for both their bloodlines.

AEMON I
Sunrise 17th Day, 1st Moon, 281AC

Aemon rose with the sunrise and saw Brandon Stark and his half brother ascending the stairs to the top of the Wall, dressed and geared as if they were going on an extended ranging. Most likely they were heading along the top of the Wall with their escorts made up of experienced Black Brothers en route to Eastwatch-by-the-Sea.  After his normal duties overseeing the morning meal and meeting in the mess hall of Castle Black, he returned to the rookery and to his quarters to write his nephew.

ñuha jorrāelagon tresy hen iā tresy hen iā tresy hen iā valonqar, Rhaegar,

Eman rhēdan lēda zokla se…

…

My dearest nephew (lit: son of the son of the son of [my] younger brother), Rhaegar,

The North is going to be a kingdom you will need on your side given the events which have happened here recently...

Aemon wrote several paragaphs afterwards describing the events which happened in a certain part of the North such that it is now being called Blóðúlfr Hagi, the Meadow of the Bloody Wolf.  Aemon described the rumors of one called Hlioðrinn Stórrvargr, evidently Brandon's younger brother Eddard. Some believable such as his combat prowess in the sparring yard as well as his recent marriage to Lady Barbrey Ryswell  becoming his father's Warden of the Stoney Shore. Others seemed to be on the more fantastic and exaggerated indicating he may be literally as much wolf as he is a man and commanded an army of hundreds of direwolves, thereby squashing an attempted coup by House Bolton against House Stark. Aemon did however have some sage advice for his favorite nephew, in light of his recent meeting with Brandon Stark:

I have met with a wolf and, in particular, the heir to the seat of the Wolf. He is reasonable and may be looking to fulfill the pact of Ice and Fire as well. It would be wise to meet with Brandon Stark and his brothers if you could at Harrenhal. This could possibly gain you the favor of the ascendant North and ensure the continuance of our House as the Crown of the Seven Kingdoms.

However may I caution you. I've been perusing Bloodraven's notebooks and they seem to differ from what your mother had told you regarding the prophecy she received from the two woods witches. I fear your mother had her own mind made up after Summerhall and the second witch could not turn her from her own interpretation. I hope you will heed my advice, which are the same words Bloodraven told me: prophecies cannot be forced into the end results we desire. I do hope THIS advice to you is not falling upon deaf ears and a closed mind.

The wolf's heir did also confirm that any friend of Vidar Tarraenos is an enemy of House Stark. Given his past actions towards them,  I would recommend distancing yourself from him, your mother and that foppish eunuch they brought from Lys if you can, until you have all the Seven Kingdoms behind you.

Your friend and great great uncle,
Aemon

Aemon wrapped the several pieces of parchment around the relatively large raven's leg as he send the message on its way to Dragonstone.

RHAELLA I
Sunrise 19th Day, 1st Moon, 281AC

Rhaegar finished playing with his daughter Rhaenys giving her back to the wet nurse as he headed to the balcony of the royal chambers at Dragonstone. His trusted page came by with a raven from Castle Black, delivering the message quickly before discreetly scampering away. Rhaegar read the raven from his great great uncle quickly before hiding it away in his doublet. His mother, Rhaella, approached him asking, “So what does our drab old uncle have to say about the North?"

Rhaegar sighed, "He met with Brandon Stark, the heir to Winterfell and the North. Seemed to go well actually. He advised that I should begin a friendship with Lord Brandon, given ... "   She could tell there was information in that raven that Rhaegar did not want to reveal

Rhaella scoffed, "They are nothing but a bunch of savages. Why would you... "

Rhaegar grimaced, "Firstly, I beg to differ given some whispers I've heard about Lord Rickard's plans for improving the North, one of which is well known regarding improvement of the Kingsroad coming through the Neck. There is also the news I've heard from the High Septon with Lord Wyman Manderly informing the Starry Sept of a potential construction of a new Sept in a holdfast set aside for his second son, Ser Wendel.  Hardly the works of a savage."

Rhaella opened her mouth to protest as Rhaegar moved onto his second point, "Second, that 'drab old uncle' of ours took the black rather than become King making way for our great grandfather, Aegon, Fifth of His Name, to take the throne.  Our grandfather and grandmother as well as our great uncles decided to alienate the Lords Paramount serving the Crown by turning their noses up at betrothals."

Rhaella protested, "We are the blood of High Valyria, heirs and heiresses to the Dragonlords of ... "

Rhaegar countered, "We are descended from refugees from a disaster brought on by our own people's hubris. Our ancestor Aegon conquered Westeros with dragons, but he could not hold them with such. Jaehaerys, my grandfather's namesake, put laws in place but also put in place measures to keep the kingdoms dependent on one another. For example, the New Gift keeping the North dependent on import of agricultural goods to the South. He knew that using dragons alone could not hold the kingdom together and they were long gone effectively by the time our 'drab old uncle' Aemon took the Black."

Rhaella stated, "Dragons can make us powerful enough to..."

Rhaegar shook his head, interrupting yet again, "Think of the Kingdoms as a wagon being drawn by a mule. The Nobility of the Seven Kingdoms are the mule, the Crown is the driver and the people are the cargo. We use a carrot and stick to drive the mule forward. The stick is the force we use to maintain our superiority. The carrot is the rewards we give the nobility so they help to drive us forward towards our goals of prosperity.   We have no dragons to use as the force to use as a stick, so the stick would actually be the support of the nobility who were rewarded for their loyalty and contributions."

Rhaella stated, "If we had dragons, the nobility will remember their place, my son."

Rhaegar stated, "Then every kingdom ends up like Dorne. It was almost fifty years after the Dance ended that Dorne joined the Seven Kingdoms. King Daeron, Second of His Name, married his sister Daenerys to Prince Maron Nymeros-Martell in order to make the peace and Dorne is still relatively independent.  This WAS the reason I agreed to the betrothal and marriage to your handmaiden's daughter Elia: to keep Dorne in the fold.  It definitely wasn't for her fucking health."

Rhaella scoffed, "We had no other options."

Rhaegar smirked, "There were plenty of other eligible noblewomen available. “ He was correct. Several houses in the Riverlands as well as the Reach including both House Paramounts had daughters. There was also the daughter of the now-former Hand, despite father's insane drive to humiliate Tywin Lannister since he took his favorite mistress from him.  Elia was her friends' daughter but Rhaella had no plans for Rhaegar to even succeed where her own Daeron should. Elia was the perfect match for Rhaella's plans, a wife of questionable health who may leave Rhaegar without any viable issue.

His daughter Rhaenys was a spitting image of her grandmother, Loreza, despite having the indigo eyes of her father. But despite the Dornish insistence on such, Rhaenys was aptly named. For, like her namesake, she would most likely never be queen.

Rhaella asked, "So what are your plans?"

Rhaegar stated, "Given the situation setup by grandfather Jaehaerys and grandmother Shaera and their siblings as well as father's ... unbalanced mental state, several House Paramounts have more incentive than they should to contemplate rebellion.  As far as the Westerlands, father's continued pursuit of humiliating Tywin Lannister has cost us the Westerlands support. Once it is within my power to do so, I will release his son from being in the Kingsguard given the vow was technically under duress.  I will not reinstate Lord Tywin as Hand. He is just as spiteful as father is and would most likely demand compensation for his humiliation which would be counter to any House's interests but his own."

Rhaella nodded, noting Rhaegar's assessment of the Lords will make it difficult for her to plant any deception. "So releasing Jaime Lannister who was a hostage would benefit us how?"

Rhaegar noted, "I am aware he was working on a betrothal of Lysa Tully to his son Ser Jaime Lannister around  the time father conscripted him into the Kingsguard. I will sponsor this as it will tie the Riverlands to the Westerlands and some goodwill towards the Crown will be gained. "   Rhaella nodded, now realizing how much more Rhaegar seemed to see than she had thought.  Obtaining the coronation of Daeron, her more favored son,  as King of the Seven Kingdoms instead of her eldest would be a more difficult task if Rhaegar was knowledgeable about the Seven Kingdoms and the alliances which exist and to form those that would benefit his rule.  If he were able to line up all the Lords in his favor...

Rhaegar continued, "House Stark is allied tightly with House Arryn and House Tully, partially because of the Lords Paramount having fielded men during the War of the Ninepenny Kings and fought in the Stepstones beside each other for the Crown. Rhaella knew the line of logic Rhaegar was following.  The Westerlands allied with the Riverlands through the marriage of Ser Jaime Lannister to Lysa Tully.  House Tully is allied with the North through the betrothal of Brandon Stark to Lysa Tully's elder sister Catelyn Tully which ties the North and Riverlands together. House Stark was tied to House Arryn via fostering as was House Baratheon."

Rhaella responded, "I wouldn't be so sure on the ties between House Stark and House Arryn. Rickard's second son did disappear almost ... "

Rhaegar countered, "House Arryn has been vague on the details of what seemed to be a prolonged campaign against the Mountain Clans and a slaver operation they seemed to have involving kidnapping of young boys and men. There have been suggestions that an organization based out of Tyrosh was involved. I'm sure your fop from Lys had informed you that Lord Jon Arryn and Lord Rickard Stark are still on very good terms per the meetings we have heard that they've had in White Harbor."

Rhaella attempted to maintain an expressionless face. He knows of Varys.  Rhaegar however continued divulging information given to him by Maester Aemon, "Our great uncle at Castle Black has informed me that Eddard Stark is now Lord of Sea Dragon's Point after marrying Lady Barbrey Ryswell.  This marriage plus apparently the very tight relationship House Stark has with House Glover, House Flint of Flint's Finger, House Dustin and now House Ryswell, as well as the minor vassal houses of the Stoney Shore that now fall under the Lord of Sea Dragon's Point, have tied together the North for House Stark. Uncle Aemon said there are rumors that Lord Eddard may have some skinchanging tendencies also shared by his wife.  There are also rumors that although from House Ryswell, his wife has older roots matrilineally going back as far as the time before the Andals threatened the North, hence the support for the match amongst the Northern Lords. However he was unable to confirm any further details." 

Rhaella shuddered for a moment remembering the part of a prophecy imparted upon her by a woods witch,  not revealed to others played over in her mind : The King and Queen of the North I know well for I have seen my own death being intertwined with their rise to power. The North is ruled by a King who is the true descendant of the Kings of Winter and the daughters of the Warg King. His queen is from an ancient house the descendant of a great Northern Queen herself.  Rhaella remained silent upon this, but asked, "So this would be the second son Eddard who is Lord of Sea Dragon's Point. I remember Rickard had three."

Rhaegar said, "The youngest son is not of age yet and has been given a holdfast called Achyldenloch. I believe it is a small one bordering the territories of House Umber and House Flint of the Mountains.  He is being guided by a regent from House Flint, but he is being guided by his older brothers as well." He paused before saying matter of factly, "Uncle Aemon was able to confirm that the three sons of Rickard seem to be forming a triumvirate within the North. By the time the youngest comes of age, House Stark's hold on the North will be as strong as it was during the times of Cregan Stark."

Rhaegar finally stated emphatically, "This is why I need to approach Lord Brandon Stark, mother, and get House Stark firmly behind the Crown of House Targaryen."

Rhaegar paced around and faced Rhaella as Rhaegar's friend and the Lord of Griffin's Roost, Jon Connington, arrived on the balcony. He was followed by an odd bald but otherwise effeminate man, dressed like a wealthy Lyseni in Damask robes. This was the Master of Whisperers as well as the ever-so-discreet minion of Rhaella's lover, Varys.  Rhaegar stated, "If I can work with Brandon Stark and make him an ally, I have gained the Crown House Stark and with it the North. Along with the North will come the backing of the Riverlands and the Vale. Through the Riverlands we will also have the backing of the Westerlands if we are able to sway Tywin Lannister with releasing his heir from the Kingsguard. We just need to secure the loyalty of the Reach and the Stormlands."

Jon Connington spoke up, "Well you have my loyalty, your Grace."

Rhaegar smiled, "Lord Connington, my friend, I was speaking of my cousin, Robert."   Rhaegar's smile dropped stating, "We still need to win back both. As I was alluding to before, mother, Uncle Daeron and Grandmother may have lost us the full trust of the Reach. Remember grandmother decided that she would not honor Luthor Tyrell's betrothal.  And, of course, great uncle Daeron decided he abhorred the company of women so much that he couldn't even entertain taking his betrothal to Olenna Redwyne seriously. It was not a good sign for the future when Luthor Tyrell wed Olenna Redwyne almost a decade prior to my birth. Similarly, Lord Robert Baratheon, my cousin through Aunt Rhaelle, is still wondering why father had to order his parents, Steffon and Cassana Baratheon, to seek out a bride in Volantis for me, only to have them die and me become betrothed to the daughter of one of your handmaidens less than a year later."

Rhaegar thought for a moment, "Perhaps in a few years, have a formal betrothal of my eldest daughter Rhaenys to one of Lord Mace Tyrell's sons, Willas or Garlan. And perhaps a betrothal of my cousin Robert to his sister Janna. That would tie...."

Varys interrupted, "Your Grace, I do not believe Dorne would stand for Rhaenys to be betrothed to anyone but a Martell or a prince of the Crown."

Rhaella offered, "Perhaps Olenna's daughter Janna if she's still unbetrothed to your cousin, Robert. That would tie the Reach to the Stormlands, with the intent of marrying their daughters into House Targaryen."

Varys shook his head, "Lord Robert Baratheon has already been betrothed to Lady Lyanna Stark, your Graces."

Rhaella, not wanting to betray she had already known this fact about Robert’s betrothal , thought for a moment before stating, "What do we know of Lyanna Stark?"

Rhaegar honestly stated, "Aemon never mentioned her."  Rhaella caught Rhaegar's look of curiosity.

Varys added , "Typical for a Northern young Lady. Not as savage as a wildling, but not as refined as say the equivalent Lady raised South of the Neck  But then again, culturally the North is very different than the rest of the Seven Kingdoms. It is known she is skilled at horsemanship and has been known to occasionally spar with her younger brother in the yard. Lady Lyanna has been fostered with House Ryswell since the age of eight. It is known that she had become quite close to her now goodsister Lady Barbrey Stark.  With this close relationship, it is almost assured that the Stormlands and North will have a close relationship."

Rhaegar smirked, "Not the sort of match one would think for my cousin, Robert, if one is to believe the reports of his fondness for the brothels. From what I hear the typical Northern lass would have her betrothed skinned alive if she doubted her betrothed's fidelity to her."

Jon Connington piped in, attempting to add some humor, "Only if she were from House Bolton. I think flaying was that House's savage tradition. Although, as Varys was telling me earlier, House Bolton been taken down a few pegs by House Stark. Reduced to the young Lord Roose Bolton who favored his second wife and true love over his father's ambition."  Rhaegar gave Connington a sideways look at his embellishments of the information. Rhaella gave a look towards Varys to ensure that he would reveal no more. It was already common knowledge that Lord Rickard Stark had executed Rogar and Royce Bolton for an attempted coup against House Stark. Rhaella's concern was based on her discovery of the involvement in the matter of her lover, Vidar Tarraenos, by those outside her inner circle. That inner circle did not include her eldest son or his good friend.  Connington continued, "Whispers around the Stormlands however seem to indicate that Robert is very fond of his betrothed Lyanna and he has actually abandoned chasing whores in brothels. His love of wine hasn't waned although he seems to be more temperant as of late."

Rhaegar rolled his eyes, "Wait until the next stressful crisis hits him and he'll be drunkenly bedding the nearest chambermaid like he did a couple  years ago at the Gates of the Moon. A lady of an ancient House deserves better."  Rhaella heard some whispers from Rhaegar as if he'd been talking to himself, "The Prince that was Promised will be born of a song of Ice and Fire." The cryptic statement was unheard by others however as Jon Connington spoke up again.

Jon Connington stated, "I did have a conversation with other Lords of the Stormlands and they have confirmed that our liege Lord had behaved like a man that was truly devoted to his betrothed. They also spoke as if Lady Lyanna Stark held the same fondness for Lord Robert Baratheon. A Baratheon like Ormund with a devoted wife from the North giving him strong and loyal heirs I admit is being optimistic but one should be so for the future."

Rhaegar nodded at Connington's response as Rhaella stated, "We will however need to verify that is the case, as far as the relationship my cousin has with his betrothed, Lord Jon."  Varys opened his mouth as if to speak but covered it up with a gesture of putting his right palm on his chin, after Rhaella made a motion for him to remain quiet. Rhaella spoke, "As we have not heard evidence backing this up, we will need to keep an eye on this Lyanna Stark in regards to the future."

Rhaegar merely nodded as Jon Connington looked wary. Rhaegar looked at his mother as if most likely had business with Varys and looked to Connington, most likely as a savior from the awkward state of having to remain in Rhaella's presence. "Assuming you're here for sparring, Lord Jon?"

Connington nodded, as Rhaegar departed with him for the sparring yard on Dragonstone. Rhaella remained on the balcony with Varys, who minced towards her and sat next to her on the bench she was seated at once Prince Rhaegar and Lord Jon Connington were out of sight.

"What are you planning, your Grace?" said Varys in an almost accusatory manner.

"The ascension of my true son to the Iron Throne," replied Rhaella coyly. 

Varys sighed, stating very pointedly, "You know what I mean, your Grace.  You knew I was going to state evidence I had that Lyanna Stark was actually pleased with her betrothal to Lord Robert Baratheon. In addition, the noted behavior of Robert's brothel visits had stopped most likely due to an intense argument between Lord Robert and Lady Lyanna. Let's just say they reached an agreement but rendered any bedding ceremony during their wedding a mere traditional formality. One might think you are attempting to stoke the fires of rivalry between Rhaegar and his cousin Robert."

Rhaella looked at Varys, "Rhaegar is just like his father at the same age and his coin may have flipped I fear to the same side. "  Rhaella coldly looked at Varys, "My youngest has potential, but he is no dragon as fire can burn him. With any luck he may be as like his namesake who was Hand to Aegon Third of His Name. Daeron will be King however after my brother-husband has left the Iron Throne."

"And this business with you dropping hints with the obvious intention of pushing Rhaegar towards Lyanna via his obsession with prophecy ?"

"At worst, this will create a scandal which will force Aerys to reconsider who is the Crown Prince," replied Rhaella in a dismissive tone. "Steffon's son may show his temper a bit, and, if it the situation gets out of hand and one or both of them goes to the Stranger, we send the other to the Wall. We have have Robert’s younger brother Stannis to rule the Stormlands. Compared to Robert, he seems much more disciplined and rigid but at the same time more malleable to our ends."

Varys nodded, still somewhat wary, as he interjected, "High Archon Tarraenos has sent word that your legacy has been secured as he has received word from his men now in the North.  There was much more resistance in the North than expected and 'the inferno was a fizzle at best'." Varys shrugged at the reference he was relaying, "However, the package was secured and should arrive here shortly after the High Archon's arrival according to his last message."

Rhaella smiled, "Excellent. Perhaps we will succeed where my parents and grandparents failed at Summerhall."

Varys looked concerned, "I was unable to confirm the news unfortunately from within Winterfell as my little birds seem to be easily spotted and are dropping like flies whenever they're near or in the Lord’s Solar. Every time they get close to a discovery, they go silent then the body is found having died in circumstances which publicly negate any foul play. The last one apparently choked on her own bile after stealing an entire bottle of old Arbor strongwine from Lord Stark’s liquor cabinet and drinking the whole thing to dispose of the evidence. It’s more likely Lord Stark or one of his sons caught her listening.” Varys  looked at Rhaella and advised, “I would avoid making any further plans involving dragons until that package arrives.” 

Rhaella nodded, "My focus will be on making Daeron the Crown Prince as opposed to his brother Rhaegar. Daeron will have dragons, not his elder brother. The wolves as well as the rest of Westeros will know their place when the dragons return."

Varys warned, "Whilst I admire your confidence, my Queen, I would advise you not to continue to underestimate House Stark.”

BRANDON VI (cont'd)
Selections from the Journal of Lord Brandon Stark, 11th Moon 280 AC to 3rd Moon 281 AC

1st Moon,  25th Day:

Eastwatch-by-the-Sea finally after walking for several days across the top of the Wall. We arrived at night and decided to camp near the top of the stairs rather than risk the hike down those icy steps in the dark. One of the most tedious journeys on foot as there is a good view. But, with literally no decent landmarks which stand out on either side of the wall, the novelty wore off after the second day.  

Theon was smart to find out who Lazoquo Ostelion's contacts were in the North and use them to send messages back to his betters so they were none the wiser.  We sent one out via the contact at Eastwatch-by-the-Sea once we arrived to indicate that the 'package would be on the way'.  Theon told me he had to get creative however since news of Rogar and Royce Bolton's demise as well as Winterfell remaining intact and not in flames would have already left the North and reached all of Westeros. I was amused at the High Valyrian word for 'fizzle'. Although I suppose it is not as humorous as the Old Tongue word which is one letter off from the word for 'sausage'.

1st Moon,  26th Day:

The Breath of the Dragon arrived apparently after leaving Hardhome with a score of the less civilized wildlings locked in its hold bound for the fighting pits of Astapor. I hung back silent merely holding the chest, as I let Theon do the talking and the exchange.

We posed as a couple of Night's Watch members newly conscripted as an alternative to the headsman's axe delivering the chest to the captain after being paid to do so by an absent Lazoquo Ostelion. The captain inevitably was suspicious and asked their whereabouts. Theon kept it simple saying that Lazoquo basically handed the chest to us saying he had business elsewhere, left on some Ibbenese whaler bound for Skagos and then Lorath, and paid us both a gold piece to make sure the captain of the Breath of the Dragon was delivered the chest, no questions asked. Theon also stated that he would send a raven for the captain to collect us as cargo on his next run if we didn't deliver. The captain seemed to buy the story, backed up by Theon holding up a gold coin of Volantene minting and acting nervous as if we both wanted to be done with the handoff.  I found out later Theon had collected the moneybag of the headless corpse of Lazoquo to obtain the particular coins.  The Breath of the Dragon departed soon after. 

We would stay a sennight before departing to Braavos to ensure our deception took. 

2nd Moon,  23rd Day:

Arrived in Braavos. I was greeted by an older banker by the name of Galileo Nestoris as well as his son Tycho who was assisting with the 'family business'. Apparently he met Theon before, noting how much he'd grown since he was a youth of six namedays.  We were able to withdraw the needed gold.  We were greeted at the docks by Lord Wyman Manderly and three of his strongest warships along with several Stark as well as Manderly soldiers along with former members of the Company of the Rose.  They would carry a million gold dragons as cargo apiece with the appropriate guards for that amount of coinage.  I would personally be carrying two rather ornate chests with me, one slightly larger than the other.  We spent as little time as possible within Braavos (perhaps two days) before departing at night for White Harbor. 

3rd Moon, 23rd Day:

A long time at sea from White Harbor, still having the choppy waters normally seen during Winter in the Bite. Proof that this year is the truly a False Spring. Well at least my seasickness has provided my natural born brother with some entertainment at my expense..

We spent longer in White Harbor than I wanted to, but it seemed that the House Blackmyre/House Charlton issue couldn't wait. Or more accurately, I got a measure of my future goodfather as well as the rest of the Riverlords.  

~~~~~

Afternoon 22nd Day,  3rd Moon, 281AC

Rickard Stark stood at the docks along with Ethan Glover, Brandon’s Squire, as his two eldest sons, one natural born and one trueborn, came down the gangplank.  Brandon saw his father's face and it didn't reflect the happiest of moods. Theon noticed this as well. Brandon and his half-brother began to walk with his father along the streets of White Harbor towards the Merman's Court.

"I'm guessing you're going to have a wonderful time negotiating the Blackmyre territorial issue," said Theon aside to his half-brother.

Brandon stated flatly, "By the look on father's face, I'm half-guessing my future goodfather hasn't been much help."

The brothers approached their father as Rickard asked, "Assuming the trip was fruitful?"

Theon flatly spoke, somewhat cryptically as he knew the harbor may have not-so-friendly ears listening, "We delivered cargo to the Wall and returned on a ship carrying necessary supplies for the North.  About as fruitful as any maritime voyage along the trade routes can be, I guess."

Brandon smiled briefly before asking, "Assuming we're meeting with the envoys from the Riverlands right away, father?"

Rickard nodded, sighing deeply, "Our offer seems to have not been as well-received on the Blackmyre/Charlton merger as far as House Frey is concerned and their liege House Tully, both for apparently different reasons."  Rickard looked over to the ships then back to Brandon and Theon, "Your brother is already here as well with Lord Commander Slate and Ser Wendel Manderly along with about a hundred soldiers. Assuming this is to guard the gold which is being transferred to Sea Dragon's Point's vaults whilst in transit?"

Brandon looked at his father directly, "Aye. Among other items."

Rickard donned a look of realization, "Thank explains the nine fully grown male direwolves with him as well, including the one he's bonded with he calls 'Cregan'."

Brandon then asked, "So what are the demands from the Riverlands? Gold for the land not good enough for the Lord of Riverrun?"

Rickard shook his head, "After speaking with Lord Roose Bolton, the new Lord of the Dreadfort, it appears as though Lord Jason Terrick was in correspondence with Rogar Bolton. The direwolf pelts were intended to be delivered to Rogar so that he may send as a message to House Stark during the Winter Gathering of the Lords.  There's evidence that House Terrick may have just been assigned this one task by their direct liege, House Frey. And that House Frey was backing or at least supportive of House Bolton during their attempt at a coup.  House Terrick is demanding compensation still for lost sons still and House Frey seems to have doubled down on the holdfasts they're asking for in the North. Lord Stevron Freyy passed on his demand to Lord Wyman Manderly that they will be asking  for the holdfast set aside for the Lord of RIllstone Harbor for one of Stevron's younger brothers."

Theon chuckled darkly to Brandon, "So Lord Wyman Manderly will be arguing with our younger brother on who will be first to choke the life out of the Weasel's firstborn?"

Brandon held his hand up, "You said Stevron's younger brothers, Father? Emmon?"

Rickard nodded to the affirmative as Brandon looked at his father who paused before saying, “They want to name Emmon Frey, Lord of the Mouth of the Rillstone and Steward of Rillstone Harbor.”

Brandon grumbled, “Ned already named Ser Wendel Manderly to that position. Something else is not right with that suggestion.”

Rickard Stark nodded, “if Tywin Lannister is behind this, I daresay he is looking to slither back in the same door he slammed in my face years ago.”

Brandon had the feeling he’d only heard half the story. “There’s something you’re not telling us, father.”

”Lord Denys Arryn is here with Septon Alleron from the Sept of the Eyrie and a couple of his fellow Septons. In addition, as the Starry Sept named Lord Wyman Manderly as the Shield of the Faith he will be in attendance along with Septon Dumas of the Sept of Snows and his Septons,” said  Lord Rickard Stark gravely. “Your future goodfather not only brought along Septon Fleur from the Great Sept near Riverrun along with his Septons…and someone who goes by High Inquisitor Septon of the Order of Mysteries.”

Brandon remembered the discussion regarding Lyanna’s  letter from Robert a few moons back, and looked to Theon Snow. “Go find our brother Ned. See if you can’t delay him from entering the Great Hall with his entourage until I send Ethan to get him.”

Theon asked “Why me?”

Brandon said,”Because you’re our brother and he trusts you.”

Theon stared at Brandon for a moment, “ And because you’re frankly a bastard we don’t need anything else to provoke my future goodfather, whilst I am assuming Father and I will be reminding him of the mistake I’m assuming he is about to make.”  Brandon looked to his father for validation on his assumptions. The nod Lord Rickard Stark gave him confirmed such.

EDDARD X
Afternoon 22nd Day,  3rd Moon, 281AC

Eddard stood in them foyer of the Great Hall of the Merman’s Court with his two Vassal Lords and their entourage of soldiers and direwolves. Cregan chuffed and his lieutenant of sorts, the Great White Wolf, looked in Theon Snow’s direction as he approached. Eddard instinctively followed suit. The other seven direwolves merely sat on their hindquarters in a relatively relaxed state. 

“Brandon says for us to wait here outside the Great Hall until he sends Ethan Glover to come fetch us,” said Theon as he approached. 

Eddard looked somewhat concerned and mildly irritated. “Any particular reason why?”

”Official reason or my interpretation?”

Eddard merely said, “Your judgement has been sound so far.”

”Freys apparently haven’t got the message that those they’ve passively supported in House Bolton are now with the Stranger,” said Theon. “They’re wanting for you to make Emmon Frey the Lord of the Mouth of the Rillstone.”

Eddard’s eyes narrowed, “I suppose no one told Lord Hoster Tully that Lordship and castle has already been bestowed legally for at least two moons?” He looked at Ser Wendel who also donned a look of grave concern. 

“I think the Andals from the Riverlands may not recognize you as a legitimate Lord,” responded Theon. “Apparently there’s three Great Septons in the hall as well - Dumas,Alleron and Fleur - and someone called the High Inquisitor Septon from the Order of Mysteries…”

Eddard pinched the bridge of his nose, “And I’m to be declared an abomination in the eyes of the Faith I suppose because of the gifts the Old Gods have given me.”

Theon stated, “I’m not sure. However, I’d say you being able to talk to direwolves as a warg is one thing. Hopefully they don’t find out you‘ve got the same … unique traits as my mother did.” 

Eddard remembered hearing of Arya the Wolfmother’s death by a Dothraki hunting party whilst still in wolf form and nodded. 

Ser Wendel looked at the direwolves then to Eddard, “I daresay,Lord Eddard, I think Great Septon Dumas and Alleron are there quite frankly for your defense. The current High Septon and the Most Devout espouse a more tolerant dogma towards those with supernatural gifts. Their Beliefs on these matters originated in the Reach as far back as the Gardener Kings’ reign. These beliefs are also shared by the Vale. Although I would say the Vale is a bit more conservative on other points of dogma.” Ser Wendel noticed Lord Orthanc’s impatience and Eddard’s look as if he wanted Ser Wendel to be more direct, as Ser Wendel then stated, “Great Septon Fleur and his order are throwbacks to when the Faith Militant were still existent, and the High Inquisitor Septon will be risking the Most Devout taking action against him if he takes action on those outside Septon Fleur’s diocese.”

Eddard sighed, “I suppose there’s not much to worry about then. I wonder however if this is possibly to do with the ….”

Just then a scream was heard from a frightened voice of a woman. Eddard looked over to see a young woman with long auburn hair, dressed in a red and blue gown of the style mostly seen in the Riverlands and the Northern part of the Westerlands.  Eddard saw an older knight in black ringmail armor, rushing up behind her, beginning to draw his sword. 

Eddard had recognized the older knight from a few times he had seen the knight at the Gates of the Moon with Brandon’s future goodfather. This was Ser Brynden Tully which could only mean the scared young woman was Catelyn Tully. 

Eddard immediately warged a command to all seven of the direwolves currently facing the frightened woman who was backing away. This one is my brother Brandon’s arranged mate, Lady Catelyn. She will most likely become one of the pack. The seven direwolves all immediately backed away from Catelyn until they were behind Eddard and the two direwolves at his side. 

“Put your sword away,  Ser Brynden,” said Eddard as he approached flanked by Cregan and the White Wolf. “We are all under Guest Rights and are bound by such.”

The Blackfish seemed to watch warily as he complied. Eddard walked over to Catelyn and offered his hand to help her to her feet. He made sure to do so using the gestures and mannerisms taught to him whilst under Ser Denys Arryn’s tutelage in the Vale. “My Lady Catelyn of House Tully, my apologies if you were startled by the sight of my direwolf guards. Lord Eddard of House Stark of Sea Dragon’s Point, at your service.”

Catelyn slowly stood as her uncle stood protectively near her.

Eddard then motioned to the men with him currently beginning with Lord Commander Orthanc Slate, “This is Lord Commander Orthanc Slate, Lord of Grey Harbor and High Lord Commsnder over the armies of the North which reside within the territories I am Warden over.”

Lord Commander Slate gave a curt nod and formal greeting to Lady Catelyn and Ser Brynden. 

“This is Lord Wendel Manderly,” said Eddard motioning to Ser Wendel, who proceeded to give a formal courtly greeting of a knight to both Catelyn and Ser Brynden.  “Lord Wendel is the Lord of the Mouth of the Rillstone and is actively developing Rillstone Harbor to become a major port on the Sunset Sea for the North.”

“And my natural-born brother, Theon Snow,” said Eddard. Catelyn frowned slightly whilst remaining polite. Most likely this was because Theon was in fact a bastard. Theon gave a formal greeting nonetheless.

”A sellsword?” queried Brynden noticing the sigil of the Company of the Rose for the clasp on Theon's cloak.

Theon frowned slightly, "No. Just a descendant of Brandon Snow's coming home to the North, Ser Brynden, looking to serve his trueborn brothers'  House in a similar capacity."

After the brief distraction, Catelyn still was transfixed on the direwolves. Ser Brynden stated, "Such beasts sensible should be in the kennels where they can't ... "

Eddard briefly glared at the Blackfish, "You of all people should know one's guards and their captains would be the least effective if they are confined to the barracks whilst the Lord whom they are trusted to is elsewhere."  

Brynden nodded as a youth came running dressed in Stark colors towards him. Eddard recognized the lanky youth as Ethan Glover, his brother's squire.  Ethan had come running from the direction of the Great Hall. He stopped as if trying to catch his breath in front of Eddard. Eddard smiled briefly , but awaited Ethan's statement.

Ethan stated in a voice as his level of confidence as a squire more than betrayed his humility, "Lord Eddard of House Stark of Sea Dragon's Point, your liege, Lord Rickard of House Stark of Winterfell, and his heir, Lord Brandon of House Stark of Winterfell,  request your presence immediately forthwith."

Eddard noticed that even Ser Brynden couldn't help but smiling at the nervousness of the squire. Eddard also noted that Ethan's nervosity was not affected by the direwolves' presence, but more regarding his concern over his own conduct as a squire. Eddard took the initiative to keep things simple as well as 'by the book' so his brother's squire felt a bit more comfortable.

Eddard stated to young Ethan, "I shall. Thank you Master Ethan. Did my brother specify the reason?"

Ethan replied, "No, Lord Eddard." Ethan paused a moment before he stammered out, "I'm not sure if it's my place to say this, my Lord, but I think it may have to do with House Frey insisting on Emmon Frey being given Lord Wendel Manderly's seat. Both Lords Stark refused and Lord Tully seemed to ... " 

Ethan nervously looked to the Blackfish who seemed to have a reaction which betrayed disappointment in his brother Hoster Tully. Eddard responded, "You need not say anymore, young Master Ethan. Please lead the way in escorting us to the hall where the Lords are meeting."

RICKARD V
Selections from the Journal of Lord Rickard Stark, 3rd to 5th Moon 281 AC

3rd Moon,  26th Day:

... was impressed by Eddard's calm demeanor upon his arrival.

The senior clergy of the Faith of the Seven from White Harbor as well as the Vale seemed more there to keep the Great Septon from the Riverlands in check and essentially remind him that any pronouncements by this High Inquisitor Septon he had brought with were NOT backed by the Most Devout at the Starry Sept.  I swore that High Inquisitor nearly shat himself when both Lord Wendel Manderly started quoting the Seven Pointed Star back at him to disprove his arguments regarding Eddard's 'abomination'.  The end result was the clergy from the Riverlands leaving the meeting as did those from White Harbor and the Vale. Lord Wyman and Lord Denys and their secular entourages remained in the meeting however...

... trust Hoster Tully further than I can throw him. It was also here where I began to realize my sons may have the right idea in making overtures to the South but keeping the level of reward equal to the level of benefit coming back. So far it seems I really haven't gained anything from this alliance, but I should have realized who I was making an alliance with.  Hoster has a weak hold on his vassals due to the very reason House Tully was made Paramount in the first place: they were put there by the Crown. Hoster had two other vassals just as powerful as he - House Frey and House Darry. The latter seemed benign as their interested never really conflicted, but the former was led by a prideful and greedy weasel since my father was but a lad.

.. evident House Frey is growing even more ambitious given their demands of Emmon Frey being made Lord of the Mouth of the Rillstone as part of the settlement of the House Charlton/Blackmyre issue. I will say Brandon was direct in his statement to Lord Stevron Frey that House Lannister has no voice in what is purely a Riverlands/North border issue, and asked him directly Lord Walder Frey planned on usurping his liege's paramountcy with backing from the Westerlands. There appeared to be some dithering unil Eddard mentioned bluntly that regardless of anyone's opinion at the table, House Stark will not have its lands usurped.  He mentioned the fate of House Bolton recently, now reduced to a male heir who declared his fealty to House Stark in opposition to his father's treason out of self-preservation. The Freys objected until Eddard responded asked if he needed to pay a visit to the Twins in the same manner he paid a visit to Royce Bolton. When the nine direwolves in the room sat up and bared their teeth, almost as if on command by Eddard, House Frey got the message. I don't approve of Eddard's methods of persuasion in situations like this but, as for the results ...

4th Moon,  19th Day:

... returned to Winterfell to see young Lord Howland finally awake from his five moon slumber. His betrothed, Lady Jyana, remained as Lord Alaric, his father, decided to leave back for Greywater Watch. The young Reed heir expressed interest in heading to Sea Dragon's Point to visit Eddard, something about another greendream he had whilst he was in his long slumber. I advised he stay another sennight until Maester Walys can announce him well enough for travel. Brandon asked him to stay a full fortnight so he can address issues with the Crannogmen and the Neck with him as well as Howland is the heir presumptive of Greywater Watch...

... had accompanied us back from White Harbor with her uncle, Ser Brynden. I will say she is adjusting better than I expected to Northern culture although it has been a leap for her. My daughter Lyanna has been working to prepare Lady Catelyn for being the Lady of Winterfell as well as some of the other ladies who have arrived. Lady Bethany Bolton is an additional future goodsister of Lady Catelyn and Lady Donella Hornwood arrived as well at the request of Brandon to her husband Lord Halys in order to assist in matters of Faith in both the New as well as Old Gods in a marriage...

6th Moon,  7th Day:

...from what I've heard from Eddard, he's adjusted schedules to accomodate projects focussed on defense of the coast versus the overall development of roads and towns from the Mouth of the Rillstone to Barrowton as well as the assistance for rebuilding Moat Caillin. It seems rather obvious Lord Wendel Manderly, Lord Commander Orthanc Slate, and Eddard are expecting something big from the ironborn within the next year as they've already begun to build or have built the following:

1. Small fortresses on two small islands as defensive lookouts. These are called the East and West Guardian Islands
2. Rillstone Harbor shipyards completed and war galleys being built.
3. Significant construction of barracks and armories in Rillstone, near the harbor and shipyards.
4. Priority given to road construction leading from Grey Harbor to Rillstone Harbor. Estimated completion by the end of the year
5. Grey Harbor seems to have built a new forge as well as expanded their armory.

I asked Brandon what he made of it. And he noted that Eddard was concerned about the Ironborn and had received a report from Lord Wendel Manderly on as significant influx of refugees to his lands who were escaped 'thralls' from Old Wyk. Numbering a total so far of only about thirty five, that's not a significant amount. But they had given some intel that the Ironborn on Old Wyk are organizing some massive reaving expedition in the North in the near future...