Winter Fell

Ned's face hardened to stone as he spotted a five-thousand-strong legion in neat formation menacingly standing outside his walls. The soldiers stood just outside arrow range, uniformly armored in gleaming gold, with such discipline they could easily be mistaken for ornate statues. If it weren't for the Northern forces gathered around him, outnumbering the enemy more than two to one, Ned's only option would have been to prepare for a long and bloody siege.

"So, these are the fuckers trying to invade our land, huh," Greatjon growled, standing at his side. "Let's get down there and show these foreign cunts what it means to draw the North's wrath."

Ned nodded in agreement. Though he despised the concept of war, an invasion right outside his gates was something he could not condone; it was his duty. But first, he had to make a stop.

Walking into his family's solar, Ned took his wife into his arms. "Husband, what's happening? No one will tell me anything," Catelyn asked, making him hold her tighter as he felt the slight bump pressing against him. This was what he had to fight for, Ned told himself. He knew he was blessed to have two healthy children and now a third on the way. He wouldn't let any harm come to them while he lived.

"Invaders have marched to our gates. My love, I must prepare for battle," he told her. His kindhearted wife gasped, trembling in his arms.

Ned softly took her beautiful face into his hands. "Cat, I'll allow no harm to come to you or the children. Trust me, and stay strong for them."

"I-I… you're right, husband. I understand," she said, trying to pull herself together, visibly holding back tears.

Ned nodded, leaving his wife's warm embrace to kneel in front of his confused firstborn.

"Son, you'll be the Stark of Winterfell while I'm gone. Do you understand?" Ned asked his heir, who nervously looked down at his feet.

"Father, must you leave?" Rob cried, jumping into his arms. The lad had finally realized something wasn't right. Ned would never blame his child for this; he knew he was placing too much responsibility on such young shoulders.

His darling little girl also joined her brother in his arms, and Ned could only gently rub circles on their backs to calm their sobs. "Children, I promise, I'll be back before you know it."

"Where's Jon?" he looked up to ask his wife, seeing her frown at the question.

"In his room; taking a nap," she nearly hissed, making him frown before shaking his head. There was no time. Forgive me, sister, he lamented silently.

Giving the two attached to him a final squeeze, Ned stood as Cat pulled them to her side. He nodded and turned to face the impending storm.

In the courtyard, Ned took the offered reins of his fully tacked steed from the large stable boy before mounting and riding toward his gathered forces.

"Rodrik, are the men ready?" Ned asked, looking over the gathered Winterfell guards and town levies.

"Aye, Lord Stark, we're ready to lay down our lives for Winterfell," his dutiful man-at-arms replied, making Ned put on a weary smile. He knew this morale was necessary for his soldiers to fight at their best, but that didn't mean he had to like it.

"And the other Lords?" he further questioned.

"Awaiting your commands," Rodrik answered, curtly as usual, before both their attentions were drawn to two horses riding in their direction.

"Lord Stark, the invaders have raised a parley flag," Wylis reported. Greatjon, riding at his side, spat on the ground from his horse.

"Bah, what is there to talk about? Let's get over there and let our blades speak for themselves," the large bear of a man scoffed.

"We'll see what they have to say," Ned told his small group of lords. He doubted this could end peacefully, but there was always the slightest chance.

Pushing their way through the rows of infantry, Ned blinked at the opulent golden pavilion set up a stone's throw from his front line. Was this Essosi lord this audacious? From here, Ned could even make out a figure leisurely draped across a lavish throne. A less honorable lord could have rained arrows upon such a distance.

Flicking his reins, Ned decided to get this over with. He was more than a little annoyed by the casualness displayed by an enemy who had invaded his lands.

"You stand before Lux Tenebris, Lord of Everlasting Light and Eternal Darkness!" a servant girl standing at the foreign lord's side declared.

A strange set of titles, Ned thought, taking in the man's appearance for the first time. As he and his lords had assumed, the man clearly wasn't from anywhere north of Dorne with his darker skin. But what truly caught him off guard was the coloring of the Lord's hair and eyes: both equal parts pitch black and shimmering gold. Ned wondered if it was natural, but as they neared the offered seat, his time for pondering was coming to an end.

Proclaiming a lord's name and titles like the foreign lord's servant had done wasn't normal in the North, but it seemed that the heir of White Harbor didn't want to be outdone. "You trespass on the land of Eddard Stark, Lord of Winterfell and Warden of the North!" Wylis announced, the man giving him a nod as Ned took the only available chair.

"What purpose do you have coming here, and outnumbered at that?" Ned asked. As the lord in front of him simply stretched and yawned in his seat, Ned wondered if the man even spoke Westerosi.

"My wife has a grudge against your people, and I also felt like expanding my territory. It's a win-win situation, you see," the invader lazily answered, making Ned let out a low growl, clenching his fist.

The nerve of this man. Ned had assumed this attack was for gold or political intrigue. Never would he have guessed an outsider would have designs on stealing the land his ancestors had ruled for centuries.

Had this lord not read the history of his people? Not even the Andals could make it past the Neck, and it wasn't until dragons showed up in their lands that they finally bent the knee. Even if this small host could take Winterfell, gaining the commoners' support as an outsider would be impossible.

Even though Ned wanted nothing more than to cut down the man seated so close, he reined in his wolf's blood, deciding to stand and depart from this fruitless conversation—but not before leaving his final parting words.

"The Starks have ruled over these lands for eight—"

"Yeah, yeah, you've been around for eight thousand years. It's not the first time I've heard this," the foreigner interrupted, pausing with a sneer on his face before continuing. "For eight thousand years, you've allowed your people to starve through the winters, for your elderly to sacrifice themselves for the younger generation. I think it's about time for a change in administration."

"You know nothing of our ways, Invader," Ned spat, turning away and remounting his steed, gritting his teeth as he heard the man chuckling to himself. Of course, a foreigner wouldn't understand what it meant to live in these harsh lands.

Before Ned urged his horse into a trot, he noticed Wylis still glaring at this Lord Tenebris.

"What have you done to my family in White Harbor?" he questioned, and the Essosi lord only further relaxed into his seat.

Ah, Ned had nearly forgotten about that matter in his anger. But he was sure the man would only use this to rile up his lords.

"Hmm, so you must be a Manderly. From what I've heard, your family is safely locked away in cells befitting their birth and station," he claimed, making Wylis visibly relax before continuing. "Ah, but there was one fat sack of lard calling himself the lord who ended up getting run through the gut with a spear."

There it was—the verbal blow that had the usually composed heir of White Harbor reaching for his sword.

"Come, you can get your revenge on the battlefield," Greatjon pulled Wylis by the shoulder, stopping him from acting on his emotions.

The ride back to their battle line was silent, and something about that meeting kept playing through Ned's mind. This wife of his with a grudge? Could it be?

It was too much of a coincidence for the Wall to be attacked at the same time as his lands were facing an invasion. Could this Queen Beyond the Wall have gained the favor of this Essosi lord that he'd never heard of?

With the claims that the Wildlings were strangely over-geared with steel arms and armor, it wasn't a completely outrageous notion. However, Ned could only make assumptions for now. He'd first need to push back these invaders into the seas they came from. Only then could he ride to assist his brother at the Wall and get his answers.

But as Ned stood with his men, prepared to advance, he noticed more than a few pointing to the sky with horrified expressions, and after looking up himself, his jaw hung wide, seeing the invading lord they had just been talking to flying high above his troops, two large pairs of wings spread wide, the extra appendages matching the attention-grabbing colors of the lord's hair and eyes.

Ned gave Wylis at his side a hard look. "Lord Manderly, if I don't make it out of this alive, I must leave it to you to negotiate for my family's safety."

"Aye, my Lord, you have my word, and I hope you will do the same if I were to fall," Wylis agreed, likely as shocked and perturbed as he was.

A New God's Conquest

Lux hovered above his army, his majestic wings out for the first time in public. It was freeing, and after flexing the recently gained pair, he smiled at the progress he'd made so far.

If Lux hadn't known he wasn't an angel from the DxD verse, he would have been shocked at the measly four wings on his back. But no, he wasn't one of the inferior supernatural creatures of titie land; as an offspring of the Presence, he was built different.

Seeing the terrified Northern army, Lux waved his Paladins forward, their rhythmic lockstep knocking the levied smallfolk out of their stupor in the process.

The two charges met, and as expected, the Northerners had no chance of breaking past the phalanx formation. They might as well have been a trickling stream trying to move a boulder.

As Lux had his fun, shooting down a few finger pistol shots of light here and there, he could feel the despair growing in the air. But one group was trying their best to stay out of the party, and Lux couldn't have any of that, now could he? Maybe it was time to let Noire out to play, he thought.

Sensing his plan, Noire eagerly jumped at the chance to run loose, appearing on the Paladin's flank in a black flash. Unlike her usual adorable puppy form, she now stood taller than a destrier, with fangs the size of daggers.

Lux watched as his vicious companion bounded toward the Bolton banners, the Leech Lord content with his men putting in the absolute minimum acceptable levels of effort while the other Northerners bravely died for their homeland.

Noire barreled through the rows of men surrounding their lord, purposely leaving a trail of death and suffering in her wake. Lux reclined in the air, summoning a bag of popcorn to enjoy the show, not forgetting to rain down death here and there. After all, the less willing they were to fight to the end, the less work this conquest would be.

From his location in the sky, Lux had the perfect view as Noire loomed over the Lord of the Dreadfort's petrified horse, chuckling as the man known for his ruthless composure and discipline shook in his saddle.

Noire pounced, knocking both man and animal to the ground, the pale lord crying out in agony with his leg trapped beneath his mount.

And his sadistic little cutie didn't end it there with the man at her mercy. No, she drew out all the misery she could before the man became a catatonic vegetable, the horrified onlookers breaking down into a mess of sobs and vomit. Even Lux had to throw away his snack at the sights he witnessed.

His appetite thoroughly ruined, Lux searched the battlefield, beginning his descent after finding the man he'd been looking for.

"Any chance you'd consider surrendering?" Lux quipped, landing in the circle of men surrounding their liege lord. One brave soul tried going in for an attack, but the magical pressure he released perfectly isolated the two from the rest, the man falling to his ass after bouncing off a seemingly invisible wall.

"I don't know what gods I've offended, but you'll still have to take these lands from my cold dead hands," Ned declared, and Lux gave him a nod. As much of a bastard as he knew he was, Lux could at least respect a man willing to die protecting his own.

Deciding to do his good deed of the year, Lux didn't immediately go for the kill. Instead, he drew out their duel and put on a show that would be sung about for ages to come. And before the act could be drawn out too far, Lux parried the Valyrian greatsword into the muddied ground with his light blade, taking the Quiet Wolf's head off with a clean slash as the onlookers went deathly silent.

A New God's Conquest

"Ah, my lovely wife. I hope you had a good time on your side of things?" Lux greeted as Val walked into his mobile mansion, pausing the embrace he had been hoping for to block the punch she aimed at his groin.

"Did you think that stupid fucking horn was funny?" she growled, as feisty as ever.

"Kazoo," Lux corrected. "And yes, I thought it was hilarious," he grinned, pulling her into his arms despite her feeble resistance.

As he enjoyed the feel of his lover in his arms, a servant interrupted to inform him that the remaining Northern lords were prepared to negotiate.

After claiming Eddard's head, the remaining forces were quickly routed, allowing him to gain a foothold within the keep. Fortunately for the North, aside from Ned and Roose, he had decided that allowing the rest to live was for the best. And after claiming the largest area in the courtyard, Lux set up his private home, giving the lords a day to prepare their terms of surrender.

Releasing his wife from his grasp, Lux headed for the great hall, with Val taking his arm.

"I hope you realize the position you're in and that your demands won't be too outrageous," he told the gathered lords as he entered, taking the head seat while Val chose to stand at his side.

Lux chuckled at the grumbled complaints in response to his words. The North was a rowdy bunch, even when facing a power they couldn't possibly comprehend.

"Yes, Lord Tenebris, we don't ask for much," Wylis Manderly agreed through gritted teeth, still upset about the whole situation with his dead father. Strange.

The man offered Lux a few sheets of parchment, which he quickly flipped through, finding nothing that warranted a second glance.

As they claimed, the demands were simple: assured safety for any captured nobles, the right for the lords to continue ruling their lands, the remaining Starks unharmed while keeping Winterfell as their own, and finally, the return of the Stark's ancestral sword, Ice.

"Alright, these terms are acceptable," Lux said, noting the surprise on the lords' faces. Clearly, they hadn't expected him to agree so readily. "Now I have my own demands," he continued, seeing everyone reluctantly nodding.

"First, the Boltons are hereby stripped of all lands and titles. I won't be foolish enough to leave a blade at my back like the Starks have for millennia," Lux explained. Unsurprisingly, not a single lord at the table spoke in defense. The Boltons were truly despised by all.

"Second, the Stark girl will be fostered by my wife," he added. This time, there were more than a few frowns in the room, but still, no one objected. Taking hostages was expected.

"Finally, I heard there's a bastard running around here. I'll be taking him as my squire," Lux finished, receiving strange looks.

"My Lord, what purpose do you have with Lord Eddard's bastard?" Wylis asked.

"You may all see me as your worst enemy, but I'm no monster. I won't leave an innocent child to suffer under a grieving widow," Lux told them. They seemed to accept his words as truth, not putting much thought into the fate of a bastard.

"Alright then, that settles it. I'll be taking my leave, and I don't envy whoever is tasked with breaking the news to Lady Stark," Lux said, standing with a laugh.

"My Lord, what do we do about the King?" Wylis asked, causing Lux to deadpan.

"What King? Do you think I'd kneel to a drunken whoremonger? No, the North is now independent," he waved off the concerns, heading for the door.

"Yes, Lor—Erm, I guess it's Your Grace now," the new Lord of White Harbor agreed.

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