24 Chapter 24

Robb POV (Age 12), 292 Moon 03

Our group of 100 had been traveling north for close to a good moon now. Snow. Snow everywhere. Uncle Benjen and two other rangers were surprised by our movement speed. With Skis and Sleds, we have traveled much of 'True North'.

They had first gone to a Free Folk settlement by the name of, Whitetree. The village was abandoned. Uncle Benjen had told them that there were rumors about a new would be King-Beyond-The-Wall.

When his uncle had adjusted to our movement speed, he had us travel directly to the Fist skipping Caster's Keep altogether.

"I had read the letter of permission you gave to Lord Joer. That was not Ned's writing. Why do this?" Uncle Benjen asked sitting beside me.

When I looked around I saw that only core members of my group were sitting with us and guards were patrolling the perimeter. He turned toward his uncle, his uncle was staring at him. He pulled his weapons toward him from the log beside him. Everyone had heard the question but didn't react to it but when saw me pulling weapons perked up.

I put Dusk with its head toward the ground and its handle upward. Unsheathed Ice, took a cloth and started cleaning it. "Try to pick up the Mace, Smalljon." He commanded.

"My Lord, I can't -" Smalljon stammered.

"Try it."

Smalljon sighed and got up to pick up Dusk. Try as he might he just could not pick it up. Veins bulged out of his forehead, neck, and arms but still, it didn't move. After tiring himself out Smalljon gave up and sat down. His uncle was looking at the mace with interest.

"The mace is an ancestral Stark weapon that I found. First wielded by Bran 'The Builder' Stark. Lost to us for thousands of years and crafted by the founder of House Dayne. 'Dusk' for 'Stark' and 'Dawn' for 'Dayne'" I stood up standing to my full height and picked up Dusk. Easily. Dusk in one hand and Ice in another.

"It is magic. It is commanded by only Stark." He told him sitting back. Taking a deep breath, "Jojen, Tell my uncle the legend associated with it."

"Lord Benjen, It is written in records which were written after Dusk was hidden that are still at Greywater, when the Stark wield Dusk again, Long Night will come again, and War for Dawn will be fought again," Jojen said slowly staring at the fire.

"What we are here to do is help out our once allies." No one spoke after that.

As we approached the Fist. The Fist was built by the First Men in the Dawn Age and is located next to the Milkwater, surrounded by the haunted forest. He could tell that the hill would offer commanding views, with the slopes at a dangerous angle to the north and west, and only slightly less dangerous to the east. There is a ringwall of chest-high grey stone that crowns the top of the steep, stony hill. At the foot of the hill, there is a brook.

This had a bastion of strength for the First Men in the years before the Dawn, and looked like the land could still remember it.

The small settlements surrounding the Fist were all abandoned. However, there was someone as they approached the brook. He could see the person. Sitting on an elk and body shrouded in thick black fur. "Welcome, King of Winter. I am Coldhands. I was sent to guide you." From the voice, he could it was a man.

"Guide where?" Smalljon asked boomingly.

"To the Singers" Coldhands replied and started riding his elk toward the southeast of the Fist.

When they started from the Fist it was midday. Now, it was evening with darkness fast approaching. They must have covered around 5-10 leagues. Soon we came up to a wild old part of the forest, with deep dark caves and snow covering everything.

Camped around the area were about two thousand giants. They stood about fifteen feet high on average and were about as wide as most men are tall. They had shaggy white hair covering their bodies, and most of them wore animal skin loincloths as their only clothing. Mixed in amongst the camp were hundreds of mammoths.

The soldiers grumbled about "snarks and giants" whenever they thought I wasn't listening.

I led the way forward, and the giants all parted out of the way as we passed. As we got to the mouth of the cave, I looked at my companions.

"I will be going in alone. You all stay here." Then looked at Smalljon "Don't cause trouble."

Without giving anyone a chance to respond, I walked into the cave.

The cave was eerie, with roots growing all over the place and the torchlight flickering from a small breeze. I continued going deeper in, twisting and turning with the tunnel. Must have walked for close to half an hour, when I finally reached my destination.

In a large opening, at the opposite end of the tunnel I was in, was a man. His old body was tangled up in the many weirwood roots, some of them entering his limbs and keeping him alive. There was a group of about six Children of the Forest standing in the room as well. They were small with dark brown skin and large bulbous eyes. Vines and leaves covered them like clothing, and yet still seemed to be growing even while worn on their bodies.

"You have come, Robert Stark. As I have seen." The man said, his voice a harsh whisper.

"I have. But while you may have seen it, I have not. I came for my allies, Children of the Forest, the Giants and someone called the Three-Eyed Crow. Introduce yourself?" I said.

"I wore many names when I was able to walk, but even I had a mother, and the name she gave me at her breast was Brynden. As I was a bastard born in Crownlands my last name is Rivers" The man replied. 

Robb racked his brain to remember the history Maester Luwin taught him. 'Yes, Brynden Rivers, the bastard son of King Aegon IV Targaryen and his sixth mistress, Lady Melissa Blackwood. A spymaster and the Hand of Aerys I and Maekar I Targaryen and a Lord Commander of the Night's Watch, who was forced to take the black by Aegon V Targaryen.' Robb remembered. 

"The one with thousand and one eyes. Isn't that what some used to call you." Robb asked. 

Bloodraven replied with a faint smile, "That credit goes to the faith. I used to follow the Old Gods like my mother's family. So they accused me of sorcery and tried to rally the smallfolk against me".

"In which they failed, considering you remained the Hand to two generations of Kings." Robb finished for him.

"I want to know what happened to you but it looks like a long story. Old Gods told me to learn and write the true history of Westeros with your help. But with you in this state how that's supposed to happen? I can't stay here indefinitely."

"Nor will you be. My life is nearing its end, being kept alive by unnatural means. You as the eldest are the alpha of your pack but it is your brother, Bran whom I will train through Weirwood. He will become the next Three-Eyed Raven." Bloodraven responded.

Then hesitantly he continued, "If I may request to you, not as the Three-Eyed Raven but as Brynden Rivers."

"You may, my lord"

"If you could save and forgive my family it would lessen an old man's burdens". I felt myself freeze up.

"NO!" I roared in anger but calmed myself. "What Aerys and Rhaegar did can't. Won't. Be forgiven and forgotten."

"Then don't. But the children of those men did nothing wrong. All the children of Rhaegar are dead. The Spider is a Blackfyre. He is scheming to put the Black Dragon on the Iron Throne. He schemed for the rebellion to happen.

Just as he is scheming now for Westeros to see Aegon Blackfyre as its savior and passed as Rhaegar's child. My niece, Daenerys Targaryen, is trapped in his web. Running. Fearing for her life. Just save her."

"I remember you had a nephew too?" I asked.

"Kill him, Aerys madness has been inherited by him. Save her. Complete the Pact of Ice & Fire. That pact was sworn in front of the Hearttree. Pacts like that have meaning and power."

"How about just saving her? I don't think I like the idea of marrying a Targaryen. And didn't Aunt Lyanna and Rhaegar get married too, didn't the Pact get fulfilled?"

"No, Young Wolf. The Pact was for a Targaryen princess to be married into House Stark. Not the other way around, O Winter King."

"Haa. Okay, I won't guarantee it. I am still unsure about marrying her but I'll try to save her." I conceded.

"Now, Old Gods wanted me to plant Weirwood Trees to increase mana and save the Children too." He could see them perk up at his words.

"It's funny, How do humans call us The Children when our species is much older than humans." One of The Child began to speak in a sing-song voice in the Old Tongue.

"What do I call you then?" I asked.

"You won't be able to speak our true name. Your species' throats are not developed in that way. But you may call me Leaf. I am the eldest here."

"Well met, Leaf. There will be costs and there will be conditions, however."

Leaf was looking at him with slightly wary eyes. "What will those be?"

He answered. "You will have to bend the knee to House Stark."

That released pandemonium amongst the Children, there were many shouting angrily at him in a language he couldn't understand while gesturing wildly. However, He kept his eyes on Leaf.

He could see she was looking slightly angry now. "So you will not help us unless it is to your benefit? Even if the Gods commanded you to do this."

Robb reminded himself to remain calm.

"It is for your benefit as well. If I am to help you. You need to help me plant more Weirwood trees, I don't know how to, and you need to help take care of the ones we already have. You can do this without swearing fealty, true.

Many Lords in the North will probably welcome you with open arms and smiles. You are living proof for many of them that their religion is real. There will be those who will not welcome you though. While most in the North worship the Old Gods some worship the Seven. There are even more in the South who would demand your heads on principle. The Maesters, the Faith, and even some of the Great Houses.

If you bend the knee you would become citizens of the North. I would be honor-bound to protect you as long as you follow our laws. My bannermen would be honor-bound to protect you because you are a part of the North. If the South were to demand your heads at that point, no Northern Lord would have the right to complain about the measures taken to ensure your safety."

She looked slightly appeased but still conflicted. "Men are fickle. You may protect us, but what of your children when you die? Or their children?"

Robb took a breath. He had already thought of this. If he was going to be doing this then he needed to plan for the future. He needed to build a solid foundation for future generations.

"I will be giving you a decent amount of land in the Wolfswood to live in. The forest is close to Winterfell so it will be easy to keep in communication. You are right. Men are fickle. That is why I would give you a chance to influence future Starks."

She furrowed her eyebrows. "Go on."

Robb continued. "The wisest amongst you will help raise future Stark children from when they are born. Teaching them about the Old Gods, skinchanging, greenseeing and magic in general. You will get the chance to advise them. To help guide them."

He hardened his expression. "Don't believe you can control them though. If even a single bannermen thought you were, then they would go to war. Mankind is fickle, as you said. What I can guarantee is that they would never be happy being ruled by anyone who isn't a part of mankind themselves."

He could see she was thinking deeply about what he said. After what felt like an hour she spoke again.

"We will bend the knee to House Stark. Your ancestors led us in war & victory during The Long Night.

However, my younger brother, Bark, and most of the elders shall stay here. We shall watch with the Three-Eyed Raven, for when the Enemy comes. We still have some young, those who still dream of rebuilding our people, we would ask you to take them with you. I along with some elders will come too, to watch over the young ones.

Honor the pact, as your ancestor 'The Stark' once did. Give hearth and heart and aid to our people, and we shall do the same to you." The eldest Child said as he stepped forward.

"I shall," I nodded. "There is an old tower in the Wolfswood, that belongs to House Stark. I shall have it rebuilt into a new castle, one that can hold both Giant and Children. Any of your people will be welcome there."

I held out a hand to shake and the Elder Greenseer returned it.

"I wish you good fortune in the battles ahead. You will need it. The Old Gods chose you to save the First Men and the giants and even us children. Do not fail." She told me with shaky breath.

He turned away from her and asked. "Lord Bloodraven. Will you inform me when Mance has gathered the Free Folks at Hardhome? I will bring them to safety too."

"Then you could already do so. He had gathered them all in these last six years. The only ones left are the tribes who practice cannibalism. Their numbers had gone done recently. Attacked by White Walkers. Their dead were made into Wights.

You have already come a quarter of the way. Go and save them too, Young Stark. You are a good man."

"One last question, who was Coldhands? Or what is he?"

Leaf spoke again, "We saved a dying man. He is neither dead nor alive. He is our bridge to the outer world when we have to inform or trade with Free Folks for something. He has already fulfilled his purpose he will be dead by now."

Robb POV (Age 12), 292 Moon 04

The icy wind blew on their faces as they sailed through the frozen shores of the Shivering Sea, beyond the Wall with one destination - Hardhome.

He had sent the Giants and the Children of the Forest towards Castle Black, only bringing Leaf with him. He had also given The Children order to gather all the animals they could find in the Haunted Forest without endangering any of them. The Order for the Giants was much simpler, Cut down as many trees as they could.

Soon the sled that he was resting on stopped and he stepped down. He walked forward followed by his friends.

"I think we should go there," Smalljon, the tallest among them, said pointing in a direction. 

I looked there and he saw Mance Rayder and a few others who he assumed were the Free Folk.

"Lord Stark." Mance greeted hiding a smirk.

"Mance Rayder. The King-Beyond-The-Wall."

"These are the Chieftains of the Free Folk I have gathered," Mance told him. "I have gathered few here. These are Tormund, Dalla, Val, Karsi, Harma, Gerrick, Soren Shieldbreaker, Morna White Mask, Ygon Oldfather, Devyl Sealskinner, The Great Walrus and Varamyr Sixskins. And that..." 

"I am Styr, Magnar of the Thenns." Said the man introducing himself. 

Robb nodded back looking at him. Unlike the others, Styr was dressed more finely with a copper armor beneath his fur. "I am Robert Stark. Magnar of the North. Magnar of Winter." He replied in Old Tongue. Magnar meant leader in Old Tongue and this was a simple way to earn their respect.

"Tell me, Lord Stark, why have you come to the Free Folks?" Mance started.

Catching the meaning of his words. "I have come because death marches on the Wall. I have come because I am Stark in Winterfell."

As I stared at the Wildling leaders, I couldn't help but think of what differences distinguished him from them. While it was true the North had similarities with the Southron kingdoms, they shared far more in common with their more northern cousins, both even having a grudging respect for the other despite the refusals both sides would give.

He gave the Free Folk a choice, they could keep most of their traditions except for the practice of stealing wives, and their women could even serve in his armies. The price was they would be loyal to Winterfell answer the call to war and keep the peace among the other Northmen.

To help give more incentive he proclaimed, in front of chieftain and lord alike that they were different from the First Men of the South. They knew of the hardships of the Northern Winter, of the sight of the wall, the frozen air of the forest, be it the Wolfswood or the Haunted Forest. All of them kept to the Gods of the Earth, the Air, and the Rivers, the many nameless gods who watched over them from the eyes of the Weirwoods.

Life was harsh enough on both sides of the Wall with them constantly killing each other, two groups more alike than they were willing to admit. He also told them about The Children agreeing to bend the knee to Stark of Winterfell.

Many among the Free Folk had for the first time seen A Child but they knew The Children were the Old Gods emissaries. Mance was the first to bend the knee, followed by Styr. As both of them bent their knees other Magnars soon followed the same and everyone swore their loyalty to him.

As the formalities finished, before he could continue Smalljon walked over to Mance and Val and spoke, "My name is Jon Umber." I saw Mance tense up but Smalljon continued. "I heard you are in love with Dalla. Robb tells me she and her sister, are daughters of Rowen Umber. If it's true, and you hurt her daughters in any way there will be hell to pay."

After saying that he walked away. Didn't I tell him that his other cousin's name was Val? Who by the way he completely ignored. I sighed heavily.

"He's a moron. Ignore him. Gather everyone. We are going home." He ordered.