Customs of The Northmen

Skagos; The North; fourth moon of 98 AC

Rickon Stark ( POV)

The morning had dawned clean and cold, with a crispness that hinted how up north Skagos was. They set forth at daybreak to see a man beheaded, five in all, and Rickon rode among them. Lord Dovahkiin, at his height of 7'2", calmly led them through the shallow snowy path that gave into a small hillside between the meeting of two huge mountains, part of the circular chain that protected the "plains inside the mountains," where the domain of House Dovahkiin stretched to everything inside the said chain of mountains. Lynara Dovahkiin, the only girl in their small group, walked behind her father in silence and graciously; the two guards that escorted the three nobles mostly walked in silence, only speaking to warn Lynara and Rickon about something that could potentially make them trip and fall on the snowy ground.

The criminal, bound and held by two guards, awaited on the hillside where a block stood for the man's execution; old dried blood marks on the block told Rickon that this block had probably seen more heads roll than Rickon had seen name days. Lord Dovahkiin silently walked towards the criminal, his face stoic and eyes stern; the cape of his dark brown cloak seemed to hypnotically dance as the cold winds hit it.

" I will have your name." Lord Dovahkiin said, his breath steamed in the cold morning air, his voice deep and powerful; it seemed to shake the whole valley with its power.

The criminal looked terrified; Rickon, at the high of his eighth name-day, couldn't blame the man; Lord Dovahkiin was as intimidating as an angry dragon on a rampage.

" me- name's Ben, m'Lord." The criminal said meekly; his greasy face depicted the image of a defeated person, a broken man.

" You have been found guilty of murdering a child of two… by stepping on said child's head; a trial has been declared by me needless as the number of witnesses, including two city watch guards and the child's mother…." Lord Dovahkiin began, his eyes never leaving the pathetic sight in front of him " Last words?" the tall lord asked; the criminal seemed to debate with himself for a few seconds before he looked at Lord Dovahkiin with tears in his eyes

" I… I… it was a love quarrel, it was an accident… my wife broke the marriage vows, I was mad with anger… I didn't see the child. I deserve death; I shall pay with my life." The criminal said; his words were difficult to understand due to the sobs and sniffing. Lord Dovahkiin's stoic face went up and down as he nodded; his hands glowed purple for a second with magic, and suddenly an enormous axe appeared on Lord Dovahkiin's hand.

" Wuuthrad," Lynara Dovahkiin whispered, and Rickon looked at her curiously but refused to say anything; he quickly returned his eyes to the man whose head was now on the block.

" In the name of Jaehaerys of House Targaryen, the First of his Name; King of the Andals; Rhoynar and First Man; Lord of The Seven Kingdoms and Protector of the Realm by the word of Ragnar of House Dovahkiin; High Lord of Skagos and Warden of the Shivering Sea, I do sentence you to die," Lord Dovahkiin said, then he lifted the axe above the man's neck and brought it down. Lord Dovahkiin took the man's head with a single sure stroke; the blood drained into the shallow snow, which drank it eagerly, reddening the soil around the block. The tall Lord made the axe disappear with the same magic he made it appear and calmly walked towards Rickon and Lynara; both wisely chose to remain quiet.

" Do you understand why I did it?" Lord Dovahkiin asked after looking into Rickon's and Lynara's eyes

" He was a murderer… a child killer. He deserved to die," Lynara responded without hesitation. Rickon chose the silence and just nodded along

" Aye, he deserved to die… had he not killed the child, he would've killed his wife… unfaithful she might've been to him, but his is not the right to take her life. But you mistake me. The question was not why the man had to die, but why I must do it," Lord Dovahkiin clarified, and both Lynara and Rickon were unsure of what to answer; until something Rickon's father said when he had to leave Winterfell to pass sentence came to his mind

" Ours is the old way…." Rickon said but was unsure of the meaning of it; he hesitantly looked at Lord Dovahkiin, that for the first time in the day, was smiling.

" Aye… Ours is the Old way… In The North, we believe that the man who passes the sentence should swing the sword. If you would take a man's life, you owe it to him to look into his eyes and hear his final words. And if you cannot bear to do that, then perhaps the man does not deserve to die." Lord Dovahkiin said, and Rickon nodded, and so did Lynara.

" Now come… Lynara has to tend to her Dragon; the little one is shedding its scales and is extremely irritable." Lord Dovahkiin said as he turned to his daughter, "I have procured a steel-fiber comb, and you will "comb" that dragon until it stops misbehaving. Am I understood?" the tall lord addressed his daughter, who smiled sheepishly at her father and nodded. The Winter Dragon then looked at the horizon as if contemplating something

" Good… Rickon will stay with me today; Theon Stane has requested my leave to court Jenny of Hull. I will let you ponder the intricacies of such a match, and if your arguments are good enough, I shall abide by your choice." Lord Dovahkiin said, and Rickon nodded

" I'll do you proud, my Lord," Rickon said, and Lord Dovahkiin smiled at him; his smile was pained somewhat, like the smile Rickon's father would have when speaking about his father.

" I do not doubt that, young wolf. You have so far only exceeded my expectations." Lord Dovahkiin said, and Rickon couldn't help but smile at that. Lord Dovahkiin was one of the most pragmatic men in Westeros; the north was strong in that one, and as such, his words generally meant what he really thought.

Rickon dared not thank the tall lord, this praise only meant he was in the right way, and should he deviate from it, things would be different.

Ragnar ( POV)

Ragnar's solar was quiet as it usually was when the Lord of Skagos went through the reports or letters sent to him. The large glass windows allowed the sunlight to enter the solar and illuminate the room, as well as let the Lord of Skagos watch his city and the happenings in it; something Ragnar liked to do when he contemplated something; the fireplace made the room's temperature comfortable for Ragnar to work, something the Nord loved.

Reading through a letter sent by Lord Ryswell, Ragnar felt a small smile appear on his face; Lord Ryswell finally had enough men mining limestone in his lands to double the limestone trade with Skagos; unfortunately, Lord Ryswell wanted the value of a wagon full of limestone to remain the same, which Ragnar would try to negotiate and make it at least 3% cheaper. Limestone was one of the primary ingredients in making Cyrodilic cement and Golden Glass which meant he could finally double the cement production and bring up the glass production by at least 20%.

After reading Lord Ryswell's letter and answering it, Ragnar picked a letter from Lord Stark and read it.

" Rickon" Ragnar called

" Yes, Lord Dovahkiin." Rickon Stark answered after a few seconds. Ragnar's foster son reminded him so much of Benjen Stark ( son of Rickard) that sometimes it was painful; Benjen had been like a son to him, and most often than not, Ragnar would remember the boy whenever Rickon acted with the same mannerisms as Benjen.

" Your father will be visiting Kingslanding for the king's tournament… House Dovahkiin was invited as well, and you will be coming with my family," Ragnar said and watched as the boy's smile threatened to jump out of his face and perform a dance

" That's good, my lord. Will you compete in the tournament? You are probably the strongest swordsman in The North." The little Stark asked

" I don't know… I might compete in the melee, but I am not interested in the joust. I'll let those summer boys have their fun." Ragnar commented, " Have you thought about Theon Stane's predicament?" Ragnar asked

" I am in favor of letting him court Lady Jenny," Rickon said; the boy of eight's face was serious, which just made him look adorable in any adult's eyes

" Is that so? Why?" Ragnar asked, his eyes giving away the approval he felt for the boy's decision

" Because he wants it, and his father has not denied it. You might be his liege lord, but in the end, you are not Lord Stane." Rickon said the boy's thought process was as narrow as all northern lords.

" Aye… he wants it, and that's what matters." Ragnar laughed " Theon asked my leave because Jenny of Hull was my house's guest, which meant I would be able to warn him should something be unusual with the girl… remember this as one day you will be the Lord of Winterfell and the North, you vassals are not your slaves, they don't owe you their belongings, and they don't owe you their lives. They owe you their loyalty and goodwill, they owe you taxes, and they must uphold their vows; harvest and hearth, spears and swords to command. The North cannot be held by anyone other than a Stark, but that only means House Stark can be the only House to "break" the North." Ragnar said, his voice was calm, collected, and true.

" How do I know if I crossed the line when issuing a command or demanding something?" Rickon asked after a second, and Ragnar hummed

" You have to look towards the past to see if your ancestors had done the same thing you wanted to do before you… if they did and it worked, then you can do it; if they did and it didn't work, then you probably should avoid it; but if they had never done it before then you simply have to ask yourself how would you react if the King had demanded the same thing of you." Ragnar said, and Rickon nodded uncertainly.

" You mustn't worry too much about it; both liege lords and Crown have an amplitude of power compared to AND over their vassals that the chances of you demanding something so unlawful or indignant that it would cause a House to rebel against you are slim… However, never zero." Ragnar said, and Rickon nodded.

" We northerners believe and stay true to our oaths; a man is just as good as his words here; oath-breaking makes a man powerless here because every northerner believes in the power of an oath… and power; true power, I mean; resides where men believe it resides," Ragnar said, the look he directed toward Rickon was one of wisdom and intelligence, the boy simply nodded, the whole lesson flying over his head but memorized nonetheless.

" I don't understand, my Lord," Rickon said, and Ragnar chuckled a bit

" I didn't expect you to; in fact, I wouldn't expect anyone of your age to understand it; this is not about intelligence; this is about wisdom… not all intelligent people are wise, wisedom comes with experience… you younglings don't have that yet… but you will someday." Ragnar said, and Rickon nodded; his Stark features were never stronger than at the moment, his grey eyes showed so many emotions that one would have problems decoding them all, and his long face was impassive, contrasting with his eyes like a hot metal on water. At that moment, Ragnar knew the boy would become a great man.

" All right, my boy. Let's get to the training yard; it's time for me to start hammering and polishing you into a true warrior." Ragnar said, and Rickon smiled brightly, his internal mental struggles forgotten for a moment.

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A/N: Hello there! How're y'all doing? Tomorrow's my birthday! I shall write one chapter before I get mighty drunk hahaha!!

Thank you for your support

Question:

Do you still want a chapter about a mage roaming the North? How their life is and how the northerners generally see them?

Yi-Ti expedition is coming; Ragnar's not going to be part of this first one. Davos will and he will be our POV in Yi-Ti.

Thank you for your support!