Chapter 10

293 AC

After having to deal with everything personally in the North for almost a decade, I was finally free!

I managed to install various guilds all run by a follower of mine that took care of whatever their specialty was. I wouldn't normally trust anyone to do anything without my careful eye looking over them, but these men were the masters of their fields and completely loyal to me. I didn't need to worry about corruption or incompetence at all.

Uncle Benjen was left as the Lord of Winterfell in my absence. In truth, he had an army of Maesters to assist him in everything and would only intervene when it requires his personal attention. It was unlikely, given how efficient my followers were. His whorehouses were the best in all seven kingdoms. Whores were treated better in our brothels than with their husbands. Sanitation, anti-pregnancy and healing potions were provided to all the whores, guards were stationed everywhere to ensure they weren't abused. Uncle Benjen was also prone to disappearing for hours in one or another brothel. He was truly taking his newly found business with vigor and enthusiasm.

Nagini has grown to the size of a pony by now, while Ghost and Quicksilver –Jon and Uncle Benjen's wolves- were almost half her size. She was the Alpha of her pack and made sure that the little squirts knew it.

I also had another puppy following me around in the form of Ramsay Snow. He was actually pretty decent company. Don't get me wrong, he was a psychotic sick son of a bitch. But now he wouldn't do anything without me explicit order. He and Jon took to sparring and hanging out with each other, and found a friend in each other. They normally gave sage advice and wisdom – Well Jon did, Ramsay's solution to anything was to flay it.

That's why I had decided that the three of us were going on a trip!

We decided against going with a large party, it was too much of a hassle. It was just the three of us with enough provisions to last us a couple of weeks, we were going to have to hunt for whatever else we needed. I also ordered full armor and a sword made for my companions. I really wanted to get in the mood of a couple of medieval worthless muggles traveling around the seven kingdoms, so magic would be used scarcely.

So with everything packed and our goodbyes said, I climbed on my silver stallion, Shadowfax, and started our journey. We decided against touring the North, we lived there after all and could go any time. So we were going to take the King's road until the Crossroads Inn and head east towards the vale. As soon as we finish our tour of the mountains and visit the Eyrie, we were going to head back west down the Highroad all the way through the Riverlands to Casterly Rock. We planned on staying for a while in the westerlands and take a ship from lannisport to Old Oak in the reach. From there, we were going to pass through Highgarden, the citadel and all the way to the Arbor.

Thankfully, I had enough time to finally see my mother's family. So we would take a ship to Starfall and from there, tour the deserts of Dorne all the way to Sunspear where we would take another ship to Storm's end and from there to King's Landing –our final destination.

The trip would take almost 16-18 moons but we were young men who wanted to see the world, so no one objected.

It was also a good opportunity to place wardstones and map the castles, not that anyone needed to know that.

Palisade Village, The Vale.

I ducked beneath a sword and cut through the chest of the bandit, I blocked a blow from one behind and struck the sword through the throat of another. I could see Jon and Ramsay facing off three at a time and thoroughly smashing them. This was getting a bit ridiculous. The moment we left the paved and concrete roads of the North and entered the river lands we were ambushed no less than a dozen times by bandits. I regretted that I didn't put a notice-me-not charm on us but the thrill was intoxicating.

"That's all of them," Jon said as he sheathed his sword.

Ramsay stood with a maniacal grin on his face looking thoroughly exasperated and thrilled with the fight and covered with blood. I had to beat out the ridiculous psych of toying with his enemies and instead he was a more focused Bellatrix.

"Well let's go on then," I said, wiping off the blood on my sword "There's an inn down there at the village. We'll stay for the night and then we could go on our way."

Ghost and Nagini trailed behind us, scaring away any citizens of the village.

I pushed the door of the tavern and settled in a dark corner and was soon approached by a slim serving wench with dirty blonde hair. She was missing a couple of teeth and showing some cleavage. I grimaced at the sight of Ramsay looking at her lecherously, "Some fried fish with a flagon of beer for me."

She nodded and went away to get our orders as I sat listening to the different conversations around the tavern. All the talk was somewhat related to the mountain clans and their frequent raids. I could probably talk with Lord Arryn and deal with it somehow. I would need something in return of course; I didn't do charity to rich lords.

The fish was bland and excessively salty, the beer was sour and barely had a drop of alcohol in it, but I had to shrug it off and eat. I wanted the medieval experience and here I was getting it.

The door was suddenly opened by 5 newcomers carrying swords and looking around suspiciously, one of the louts raised his sword in the direction of our bloody armor and swords and screamed, "You're the ones that killed Arvlan and his gang, you bastard."

I smiled evilly and said, "Are you sure you want to do this,"

"Fuck you!" He screamed as he approached us with his sword raised.

"Nagini," I whispered in a Bolton-ish voice, "Kill."

I threw a dagger through the eye of the first approaching one while Nagini mauled the others, all which happened with Ramsay staring unblinking at the serving wench.

I tossed another chair towards the direction of the other two, giving enough time for Ghost to attack them without getting hurt.

I took another bite of the fish, "You might want to clean that up," I suggested to the shaking cook.

He nodded hesitantly and went on to do that, while the tavern wench was now looking at Jon with a worshiping gaze. Ramsay looked sullen and angry towards Jon and muttered, "Why are you the only ones that get their family sigils following them around?"

"You want to cart around a flayed man everywhere you go?" I asked,

"Why not?" He asked angrily.

I wrinkled my nose, "Can you imagine the smell?"

Jon squeaked, "It's wrong! Torrhen Stark illegalized flaying in the North 4 centuries ago."

I nodded at Jon, "That too."

Soon the atmosphere changed back into normal, as if 4 men weren't just brutally murdered in it.

"I am going to bed, see you tomorrow!"

Ramsay muttered a goodbye distractedly while flirting with another wench while Jon sat grooming Ghost in the corner.

Hopefully, the next day would be less exciting.

I woke up to the dreadful sound of birds chirping outside, I lifted my head from the pillow and managed to pull myself out of bed to another 'cheerful' day. After taking shower, I quickly got dressed in my armor and went to Ramsay and Jon's room.

I entered the room to find two beds joined together. Now as a wizard from the future I didn't have much prejudice against gays, but I really didn't think Ramsay was Jon's type. I cleared my throat and thankfully found out that the sprawling shaggy black hair on the bed was the wench's not Jon's. She smiled a toothless smile, "Can I help you milord?"

"Whose 'zat?" a muffled voice came from under the furs.

"Ramsay?"

"Brandon!" Ramsay shouted with a smile getting up, with not a slightest regard towards his nudity.

I looked down, then up and sighed, "Where's Jon, Ramsay?"

He frowned, "He said he's going to find somewhere to stay for the night."

I raised an eyebrow, "All our money is with me…"

He shrugged and smiled at the wench, "Now, where were we yesterday?"

I shook my head with an amused smile and went down the stairs. "Have you seen our third companion anywhere?" I asked the cook.

"Aye, wanted another room but had no money; so I told'em to sleep in the stables."

I smiled tightly, "How thoughtful of you, please prepare a roasted duck and 3 beers for us."

He nodded as I went outside to where a shabby building stood; the smell was horrible, full of dung and flies. Thankfully, I found Jon sleeping on Ghost in the corner with his armor still on.

I nudged him gently with my foot, shaking off the flies. He remained sleeping peacefully so I kicked him swiftly in the ribs that woke both him and ghost with a yelp of pain. "what the fuck?" he grumbled sleepily "It wasn't enough you kicked me out of your room you piece of – Cousin!" he exclaimed happily "it's time to leave?"

"Yes," I answered, "Interesting sleeping arrangement."

He rubbed his stiff neck, "Well Ramsay kicked me out."

"Why didn't you wake me up?" I said frowning, "I could've rented you another room."

"I did, you threw a dagger at me."

"Oh," I said softly, "Well I'll make sure to leave you with enough money next time."

He nodded gratefully, "Let's go then."

We made our way back to the tavern. As soon as I passed through the door, I felt a sword pressing against my throat, "Now, you're all arrested for poaching and killing a knight of the Vale, lads." A gruff voice said.

Merlin's saggy tits.

Sky Cells, The Eyrie.

"My name is Jon Snow, the son of lord stark. Lady Catelyn, the lord's hand good-sister, absolutely abhors me. She – "

"Jon, if they could hear you the first sixty two times they would've answered by now." I said irritably.

He sighed softly and slid down the wall, "Well what are you going to do about this?"

"We'll wait till someone calls us for trial, assuming that they're going to give us one." I looked over to where Ramsay was sitting in a fetal position with his eyes closed tightly, "You're okay, Ramsay?"

He didn't answer, so Jon approached him frowning, "Ramsay?"

Still nothing, so he shook his shoulder slightly and Ramsay screamed in fright.

"Woah- woah calm down. What the fuck is wrong is with you?"

He breathed in and out repeatedly and shook his head and remained silent.

Jon smiled, "You're afraid of heights, aren't you?"

Ramsay just glared at him and Jon broke out laughing, "The fearless Bolton bastard is afraid of heights!"

Normally, Ramsay would've beaten anyone who called him a bastard but given our current predicament, he couldn't even move from his position.

I couldn't really blame him. The Arryns keep the only dungeon in the Seven Kingdoms where the prisoners are welcome to escape at will – by jumping to their deaths. Many prisoners, driven mad by the cold and howling wind, commit suicide rather than remain imprisoned. They are particularly infamous; they are merely shelves on the side of the mountain's sheer cliffs, left open to the cold sky.

The floor slopes slightly and the cell was miserably small; five feet away, where a wall would be in a proper dungeon, the floor ends and sky begins. Six hundred feet below is the waycastle sky.

I had no reason to worry of course, I could fly. The others were not so lucky, so we were here awaiting our judgment.

The cell door opened, revealing our lovely jailor, Mord.

Mord is a large man, slow-witted brute, who's fond of telling us how we are going to fall out of the cells to our deaths. He has small, dark eyes, rotting brown teeth and the left side of his face has a scar and has a large belly and thick, stubby-fingered hands. A delightful person, slightly quiet though.

"Come, The heir is going to judge you."

I smiled, "How lovely."

As Jon and I went towards the cell door, Ramsay stayed glued to the floor. "Come on Ramsay, we're going out of the cell.

Ramsay looked from our position at the cell door to the sky and then back and shook his head fearfully.

"Ramsay, please get up," I said exasperatedly.

Unfortunately, Mord wasn't a particularly patient man and he dragged Ramsay away from his position where Ramsay remained unmoving. I looked over at Jon and shrugged, we both moved to help Mord.

"Nonononono, please don't. I swear I'll do anything, just please don't." Ramsay muttered over and over as we literally dragged him on the floor.

"IT'S 3 FOOT TO THE BLOODY DOOR." Jon shouted.

After 5 minutes of dragging him towards the door, we finally managed to pass through the door and dropped him.

Ramsay pushed his head from his fetal position to look around, when he found that we weren't in the sky cell anymore he checked himself for any missing body parts. When he didn't find any, he stood cheerfully and said in a baffled tone, "What are you standing doing over there? Freedom is this way buddies."

Even Mord stood confused for a bit as Ramsay walked away towards the stairs.

Not even Bellatrix was that crazy.

The High Hall, The Eyrie.

Harrold Hardyng, often called Harry the Heir was a gallant handsome young man. He was the heir presumptive of Lord Jon Arryn and would ascend to rule of the Vale as "Harrold Arryn" should Lord Jon die without an heir.

He was also a dunderhead.

"You're here to answer for your crimes, do you wish to confess?" He said in an imperious voice.

I rolled my eyes, "Confess to what crimes exactly?"

"Illegal hunting in lands of the vale, without asking for permission from the lord of the vale," "You're a brat who's playing lord." I interrupted.

He glared at me and continued, "You are also tried for the killing noble knights of the Vale."

"Would you like me to do it now? Or would you like a few moments to compose an epitaph?" I interrupted once more

Before he could offer a rebuke, Jon said in an amused voice, "Those were knights? I guess you stupid Andals name anyone a knight these days."

He gasped, "You're from the mountain clans."

I looked at him blankly, looking down at our apparel. Even the high steward was getting second ideas from the way he was looking at the boy.

"Are you fucking daft boy?" I asked.

"Well, why did you call us Andals with that tone then huh? Only the mountain clans call us andals. "

I said in a bland voice, "How astute. You truly astonish me with your gifts of deduction, gifts only mortal could possess. One can only imagine how hard it must be to be the recipient of such gifts. You're a true fucking light for humanity."

Some of the knights and lords laughed and before I could resume my tirade, the door opened and a gruff voice said, "Announcing the Lord of the Eyrie, Warden of the East and defender of the Vale, Lord Jon Arryn."

I straightened up and waited for the man to arrive.

As soon as he entered, the man took one look at me, stood gawping and shouted with spittle at Harrold, "What in the seven hells are you doing, boy?"

"Great-uncle Jon," the boy said smiling, "I was just judging that riff-raff for poaching on our lands."

He stood gawping not comprehending for a few moments, "You're judging the Warden of the North for poaching?"

"Wa-Warden of the North?" The boy squeaked questioningly.

"Yes you oaf. Ser Vardis, please release Lord Stark and his companions from their chains."

As the head of the household guard darted to release my chains first, I stood looking smugly towards the arrogant boy cherishing his paling face in my memory.

"Lord Stark, I profusely apologize for this misunderstanding." Jon said as he extended his hand.

I rubbed my sore wrists, looking directly at Harrold, "No need, Lord Arryn. I understand the follies of youth."

The boy bristled angrily and Jon replied, "He's going to be sent back to Lady Waynwood immediately, he's clearly not yet ready to assume his duties."

Harrold whined, "But Uncle Jon…"

Jon raised his hand, "No, your incompetence and brashness almost started a war. I don't know what High Steward Royce was thinking anyway." He said directing his gaze at the High Steward.

"My lord," Royce said hesitantly, "You must understand that his claims were simply too outrageous. The Lord of the North traveling alone in the Vale? Highly unusual."

I moved in to save the poor man some face, "It's alright, my lord. The High Steward was simply carrying out his duties."

Arryn nodded at me and asked, "If you don't mind me asking, what were you and your companions doing alone without guard in the Vale?"

"We've elected to take a tour in the Seven Kingdoms alone and leave the matters of the North in the hands of Uncle Benjen for a while."

"Ahh, the enthusiasm and arrogance of being young." Jon said with a smile.

I smiled back, "If you don't mind, I would like to send a letter by your ravens to Winterfell and go on our way."

"Of course, but you should stay here for a small feast at the very least."

I looked at Jon and Ramsay who shrugged, "We would be delighted to,"

"Once again, I must apologize for the terrible inconvenience earlier today." Nestor Royce said for the billionth time. "You must understand the hardships of ruling and being the heir of a kingdom at such a young age."

I smiled, "I'm afraid I don't, I've been effectively running the North ever since I took my chains from the citadel at five."

Harrold stabbed the venison on his plate and stubbornly refused to look up.

"Yes well…" Royce stood awkwardly gesturing with his hands.

A hoarse, smoky voice, "Oh come off it, Royce. No harm done."

I looked towards the direction of the voice where I found a tall lean man with grey hair, bushy eyebrows and bright blue eyes staring at me.

I looked inquisitively for a while until my eyes landed on the sigil on his armor; it had the traditional Tully colors of blue and red, but with a black fish instead of a white trout.

"Ser Brynden Tully," he said extending his hand.

"Ahh, Lord Tully's brother."

He raised his eyebrow, "You've met my brother?"

"Indeed, I had the pleasure o…" Ramsay interjected, "He thinks he's a cunt."

The voices at the table fell to a hush as I glared angrily at Ramsay. Brynden said with narrowed eyes, "Any particular reason?"

"He insulted me because I'm a bastard, so Cousin Brandon threatened him," Jon said happily looking at me. Were they always this stupid?

I looked back at Brynden and couldn't discern any emotion from his face so I shrugged.

I didn't expect him to boom out laughing, but he did and the tension thankfully diffused, "Aye, he could be a bit of an uptight prick."

"Any particular reason?" I asked.

"Cheeky," He harrumphed, "Bethany-fucking-Redwyne."

The knights and lords at the table rolled their eyes while Brynden continued, "Hoster wanted to marry me off to advance the family station," he said every word dripping with venom, "I refused, he called me the black goat of the Tully herd. I pointed out that our sigil was a fish, so I took the name "Blackfish", and took for my personal sigil the Tully emblem, but with a black trout jumping, instead of a silver trout to piss him off." He chuckled, "He still gets red in the face whenever he sees my sigil."

I laughed and asked, "Is that the reason you're here and not back at Riverrun?"

He nodded, "I'm the Knight of the Gate, the Bloody Gate."

"A great honor in the vale, being the Knight of the Gate," Jon said from behind us.

Jon asked, "Why are there too many gates in the Vale though? Isn't the Bloody Gate enough?"

"The hill tribes keep raiding us lad," One lord said with distaste, "Most of the other minor gates are to deter them from raiding."

"Perhaps you could help us with that problem," Jon said, "I heard you've dealt with the mountain clans in the North efficiently and they no longer raid or steal from any of the nearby villages."

I smiled tightly, "I would be delighted to." I really wasn't.

Mountains of the Vale.

"Are you sure, you're doing this right?" I asked, tired and dirty from trekking through the mountains for the past week.

"These tribes are more vicious than your mountain tribes. By walking in the valleys and mountains, we'll hopefully attract some of them." Brynden answered.

"We've been walking for days. Perhaps we're in the wrong place." Jon said.

I heard shuffling from a nearby bush with the sound of a twig breaking, "Perhaps not."

I laid down my sword and raised my hands in surrender, "We're here for a treaty with your respected mountain clans, and we mean no harm."

"I'm Shagga, son of Dolf of the Stonecrow,"A large hairy man, with deep voice and axes in both his hands said.

I replied, "We're here to negotiate a treaty on behalf the Lords of the Vale with your clans."

He broke out in laughter, "We don't negotiate with Andals,"

"Whoever said anything about Andals?" I asked, "I'm Brandon, son of Brandon of clan Stark," laughter broke out at my name which I ignored. "We're from the North, blood of the First men runs in my veins."

The man looked intrigued and asked, "You weakling? Blood of the First Men? Bah! Kill them and take their weapons and armor."

I whispered, "Weak?"

"Aye, you think you're strong little man?" Shagga replied.

I grinned at him, "How about this then, I'll fight you and if I win, you'll agree to talks with us."

"With your fancy little armor and fancy sword of course?" He asked sarcastically.

I removed my armor and said with a predatory smile, "Oh no, we're wrestling."

"… And then, the little man carried Shagga on his shoulders and threw him to the tree." Conn said laughing.

As you've concluded, I won. The rest of the clan laughed and readily invited us to dinner until they gather the rest of the clans at the show of power.

Jon and Ramsay ate happily through the meat as I said, "Aye, we the blood of the First Men are tough aren't we?"

The men boomed out laughing again, "Not like those fancy weak Andals with their shining armors."

The knights of the vale bristled and looked visibly annoyed but held back from answering as we were outnumbered almost 20 to 1.

"Well since the rest of the clan leaders are finally here, we can get on with the treaty."

The men fell silent, "We in the North care for the blood of the First Men, that's why we're proposing that instead of raiding nearby villages, we could build you permanent homes in the mountains that can endure the weather and air of the mountains, teach you to farm and fish for yourselves and the Vale could provide you with whatever you can't do yourselves instead of raiding and disrupting the peace."

Some of the clansmen nodded in acceptance while one said, "How would we know that you'll keep your words. You want us to trust the Andals?"

I asked baffled, "Whoever said anything of dealing with Andals?" as the knights looked angrily at me I continued, "You believe that every person's voice, regardless of gender, should be heard during councils. I respect that. So representatives from the North, the same ones dealing with our mountain clans, will come in your council to negotiate with you any further terms and take them to the lords of the Vale. No need to include any prissy Andals between us First Men, eh?" I said laughing.

"Aye, that sounds good. We'll be waiting for your representative, chieftain of the First Men."

I smiled at the new title and got up, "He'll be here in two weeks, I already sent them a message."

"Wait here for a second little chieftain," a dark little woman who looked more like a flat ugly boy with ears arranged as a necklace said, "Just because you beat Shagga, doesn't mean Chella doesn't want a fight too."

The clansmen roared in agreement as I sighed and took of my armor once more.

Fucking Jon Arryn.

At the Bloody Gate

"Once again, thank you so much for all you've done." Royce said.

"It was nothing."

"We hope you've enjoyed your stay at the Vale, my lord."

I replied, "Yes, the sky cells were surprisingly refreshing."

He stammered once more and Brynden said, "Just shut up Royce."

"Well lads, that's as far as we could go. Good luck on your journey,"

"Thank you, Ser Brynden," Jon said.

He waved him off, "Off you go then."

We rode back on the Highroad for a while, finally enjoying our freedom when I noticed something queer.

"This is your pouch of gold, is it, Ramsay?"

He hummed.

"You're quite sure of that, are you?"

He nodded.

"Then why does it have the name "Hoory ze Hair" knitted on it?"

He froze for a moment, "That's my nickname."

We broke out laughing.

Ramsay, never change.