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Game of Thrones: Champion of the Winter

A Gameresque Fic based on ASOIAF/GOT and related fandoms. It will contain a few elements of Assassins Creed (Not a crossover fic). Cross-posted in FFN. AU. Worldbuilding Jon Snow gains some help from an unexpected source to help him find his origin and purpose in life. Some characters may appear OOC. Contains elements from the novels and the show.

La_Monserga · TV
Classificações insuficientes
33 Chs

Interlude 2: A Series of Fortunate Events

Jon stood there with his mouth hanging open.

He tried to say words as "What" or "How", but his tongue wasn't working properly, when he tried to speak, the word that came from him was sounding something like "Gleba?" The others weren't any better either. Robb, Asher, Torrhen – they had their jaws almost hanging to the floor.

"My Prince," Ser Arthur had his head bowed, "pardon me for not being at your side for such a long time. Circumstances weren't favourable to me. When I heard from Lord Reed about you, my desire only grew that much to ride out and reach for you, but My Lord Howland won't permit me to do so. He told me that he invited you to his home. I had been waiting eagerly for that glimmer of hope. Your Grace, I swear my services to you, Prince Aemon of House Targaryen. I will shield your back and keep your counsel and guard your secrets. I will give my life for yours if need be. I swear it by the Old Gods and the New."

A nudge from Lord Reed brought Jon back to reality, he had heard the last part of Ser Arthur's oath of fealty, as he turned to look towards Lord Reed, he saw the man smiling at him encouragingly. Jon cleared his throat and spoke –

"And 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 dishonour. I swear it by the Old Gods and the New. Arise, Ser Arthur of House Dayne, the first of my Kingsguard."

Ser Arthur got up to his feet with a brilliant smile on his face. Jon kept looking between the two men. "How?" He croaked.

"As you have said before, My Prince, 'tis a quite long story. I was afraid that if I didn't bring you to him as soon you arrived, my old friend here would have brought my keep down on our heads to reach for you. Why don't we all retire for the night and save the discussions for the morning?"

"I don't think I can sleep tonight. That's the fucking Sword of Morning! And he is alive!"

Asher received dual elbow jabs at his sides from Robb and Torrhen. "Shut up, Forrester!" Robb hissed at him.

Jon shook his head in exasperation, he turned towards the famed knight, "Please excuse Asher, Ser. He took a blow to the head and hasn't been the same since."

The older men chuckled at the younger ones' antics. Ghost and Grey Wind were standing still by their humans till then, now they came forward to have a whiff of Ser Arthur. The knight offered his ungloved hands for the wolves to smell. They did and licked his hands afterwards, clearly approving of the man to be near their charges. Ser Arthur's eyes never seemed to leave Jon's face. It was as if he was trying to find something in him. Lord Howland cleared his throat.

"I believe that we should truly retire for the night. Come, My Lords, let me show you to your rooms." He ushered them out of the room and took them back towards what the four thought the guest wing of the keep. Lord Reed had prepared four rooms for them, but they opted to share the biggest one. He had to order the stuff to rearrange the beddings into the single room. He understood that the four needed to have some discussions amongst themselves. As he was getting back to Arthur, he could hear their excited whispers through the doors.

"That was Arthur fucking Dayne!" Asher Forrester whisper shouted.

"Why don't you say that again and a little louder, Forrester. I don't think they have heard you at the Kings' Landing yet." Torrhen Karstark replied irritated.

Lord Reed shook his head in amusement, he was quite grateful for the unique natural defences of his keep. It certainly kept any undesirable individuals from infiltrating here. None here was to overhear any talks or bore witness to the happenings and send messages to the Capitol. That was how he had managed to keep the Sword of Morning's existence a secret still. Not even his liege lord was aware of that fact. He returned to the room and found the knight to be sitting in a chair with quite a pleased smile on his face.

"I take it you were satisfied to finally see the prince, my friend?"

"Yes, Howland. I have been waiting for this day for the past fifteen years. He is the perfect blend of his parents. He has his mother's colouring and features on his father's Valyrian built. But I thought you said he had the Stark's grey eyes." He looked questioningly at him.

"Aye, the last time I saw him, he still had the grey eyes of the Starks, not the purple orbs of the dragon lords. If I have to guess, I think it is tied with the story behind them acquiring their companions."

Ser Arthur laughed a little, "A Targaryen prince with a direwolf companion. Oh, Rhaeger, if you could see your son now." He let out a sigh of sadness.

"Didn't I mention it to you? He also bonded with a falcon. I am sure you will meet with her pretty soon."

Ser Arthur could only stare at his friend.

[CotW]

Jon herded his friends to the yard of Greywater Watch and the four carried on with their usual warm-ups. Jon had inducted the other three into his training regime and tried to drill into their heads the importance of being faster and stronger. As the time passed, Jon started to spot different aspects that were apparent in his friends. Robb was stronger than the other two, he and Jon could exchange blows without pulling back and without the fear of hurting the other. Asher was faster on feet with a matching reflex and a better rider while Torrhen possessed keener eyes. He could spot games the quickest and his aim with the bows were only second to Jon. He pushed them harder to hone their skills and tried to help them to get their other skills up to par with the ones they were born with. He had introduced them to the obstacle course that he had created in the Godswood of Winterfell after a week of returning to the keep. Jon was glad that after grumbling for a few minutes (after all, Asher was not too fond of getting up every day at the crack of the dawn), his cousin and friends had taken quite well to the course. They had tried to include mock fighting while running through the obstacles. Chasing one, fighting three against one, or just simply trying to outrun each other – they had tried all possible combinations and it helped with their arms training in the yard which had impressed Ser Rodrick. They had continued their training even on the road, pushing the men with them to partake in the activities along with them each morning. The Wolfpack and their troop were nothing but at the peak of their physical prowess.

The residents of the Greywater Watch had taken aback as the foursome took to the yard. They had seen nothing like what the four was doing. Before taking up arms to hone their skills, they ran the perimeter of the yard, varying in speed – sometimes at a slower pace, sometimes at a sudden burst of speed. They tried to trip or push each other, making it hard for them to run straight. It was clear to the observers that the four were well aware of their surroundings. After warming up, they had taken the practice swords and started with the basic combo. Meera approached them and demanded that they spar with her. The four shared a look among them, making her narrow her eyes.

"Are you of the mind that girls shouldn't be practising with arms, My Lords?"

Robb bowed to her, "Forgive us, My Lady. It is not that. We have been to the Bear Island, and neither of us would dare to say that women are not supposed to be taking up arms. Why my own sisters practice in the arts of weaponry. It is just that we have sparred with your lord father, and if you are taught by him…"

"…You would hand our arses to us." Asher finished his sentence and received a slap at the back of his head from Jon.

Meera smirked, "Oh, I am sure that the heroes of Bear Island won't be afraid of little old me and could take care of themselves." She hefted her blunted spear.

The four talked and Robb was chosen to spar with Meera first. As the two started their spar, Jon was called by Ser Arthur.

"I hear that you are quite adept at dual wielding, Jon. Would you mind having a go with me? I wanted to see what the White Wolf is capable of."

Jon's eyes went wide, he looked at his friends – Asher had glassy eyes and slackened jaw and Torrhen was imitating a fish. Jon shook his head and turned back to the man.

"It would be my pleasure, Ser -"

"Eric Sand." Arthur cut him off.

"Of course, Ser Eric." Jon stood back to watch his cousin going up against Meera Reed.

"Oh, for the sake of the Gods, close your mouth, Forrester! You are behaving just as Alys does whenever she is near you." Torrhen hissed at Asher, inciting a snicker from Jon. Asher scowled at him and gave him a discreet finger.

Robb had to apply every bit of his skills to get the upper hand on Meera, the unique way that the Crannogmen fought with spears were included with her ingenuity which she had inherited from her lord father. After their bout was over, Robb offered her a sincere bow.

"You are quite a spearwoman, My Lady. If you were to have a little bit more experiences, it would've been I who'd have yielded to you."

Meera scowled, "I thank you for your words, Lord Robb. You just showed me that I need to practice more. And please, do not call me a lady."

Jon chuckled hearing that, "You would go well along with Arya, My L…I mean Meera. She too quite fiercely denies of her being a lady as well as whacking us around with her practice swords to put us in our places."

Ser Arthur cleared his throat, "Shall we, Jon?"

Jon gulped down the feeling of impending doom and nodded his head. The people around the yard stopped whatever they were doing and stood to watch the famous White Wolf fight against their Dornish friend. Nobody knew of the man's true identity, save the name Eric Sand and the fact that the fearsome warrior was Lord Reed's closest friend. They had seen him spar with their lord and giving arms lessons to his daughter or to the men who wanted to learn the arts of swords. Discreet wagers were being called for how badly the young lad would lose.

Ser Arthur had taken two blunted longswords and stood ready for Jon. He stood facing him sideways, he scratched a line on the ground with the point of his sword, bent his knees a little. The right-hand sword was pointing at the ground while he was twirling the offhand sword at his back. Jon stood with his right sword arched in front of him while his offhand sword held up above his head parallel to the ground. Both the warrior stood motionless but their eyes were darting all around, trying to find an opening for their attacks. Jon moved first, he took a step forward and thrusted his right sword at the knight's chest. Arthur swung his left sword forward and deflected the attack, simultaneously he brought his right sword in an upward slashing motion and tried to catch Jon's right hand with it, Jon brought down his left sword and caught the slash on its blade. Both of them disengaged and took a couple of steps backwards, they began to circle each other. Suddenly, Arthur charged forward and began to whirl his swords too fast for the eyes to follow. Jon could only rely on his own reflexes to block or deflect the flurry of attacks, he had never felt the power behind each strike save when he sparred with his Uncle Ned. He tried to counter the attacks with the style his uncle taught him. He began to let the strikes slide over his swords rather than going against them with counter-attacks. Arthur's eyes widened a fraction, he had only seen Ned Stark fought this way, but he was not called the greatest swordsman of the last century for nothing, he adjusted his style accordingly and again charged Jon with another flurry of swings. Jon defended with all he had, but soon his arms started to protest from the exertion. He decided to throw caution to the winds and went forward with attacks of his own, he knew he won't last long, so he decided to concentrate his attacks on Arthur's left hand. If he even managed to make the knight drop his off-hand weapon, he would count that as a win. He sacrificed his right sword to Arthur's counter and dropped it, while jabbing his left sword at his left hand and rapped it with all his strength on his knuckles, making him loosen his grip, he snaked the sword up and flicked his wrist, instead of divesting Ser Arthur of his sword, the knight had adjusted his grip and locked his blade with his own. He pushed him back with his right hand and sword still locked and pressed the point of his right sword at Jon's neck.

"I yield." Jon was breathing hard.

Arthur smiled and removed his sword. He clapped on Jon's shoulder almost sending him to the ground.

"The rumours are indeed true then. The White Wolf is on his way to becoming a fearsome warrior."

"I still lost to you, Ser."

Arthur smirked and bent down to whisper in his ear, "Don't think I didn't notice how you centred your attacks on my left hand. 'Tis a true warrior's sign when they make an opening in their opponent's defence when there is none. You lost because of your lack of strength and experience. I commend your uncle, for he has trained you well."

The yard rang with the noises of applauds and cheering. Ser Eric had defeated the White Wolf in a bout to behold. Jon's pack members were smiling from ear to ear.

"You lasted against him for this long?!" Asher and Robb could hardly restrain themselves.

"Aye, but I still lost."

"Don't lose heart, White Wolf. I have never seen anyone come as close as you did in defeating Ser Eric, and I have watched the man practice and spar since I was but a babe." Meera's voice cut through the lads' exuberance. "Come, My Lords, I think that was enough excitement for one morning. Let us clean ourselves and break our fast." She gave them a small smile with a nod and went to put her spear back on the racks.

The four watched her walking away. Torrhen shook his head, "You know, I don't think I will ever understand women."

Robb raised an eyebrow at him, "Do you perchance developing an affection for Lady Reed?"

Torrhen turned bright red and mumbled something under his breath. Jon leaned in closer.

"What was that? We couldn't quite catch it quite clearly."

"I said it was Dacey Mormont, happy now?" He snapped.

The cousins exchanged glances. "Huh? You are smitten by the she-bear?"

Jon mock whispered to Robb, "I think their love story will be as remarkable as of Florian and Jonquil, only that their roles will be reversed. How do you think Torrhen would look in a gown?"

"Why don't you send a raven to Wynafryd Manderly and get an opinion?" Torrhen snarled at him, cutting off Jon's laughter.

The friends continued on their way inside of the keep, Jon realized that Asher was not with them. He turned and saw him standing alone in the yard with a faraway look upon his face.

"Asher? Aren't you coming?"

As if he was woken from a trance, Asher looked around, "I have something to take care of, you lads go on." He hurriedly walked off to the opposite direction from the keep.

"What is the matter with him?" Robb asked.

Jon could only shrug in reply.

[CotW]

They had sat down for the meal and talking among themselves. Lord Reed was stating how glad he was to see the two finest swordsmen he had the good fortune to know, having a spar with each other. All talks came to a sudden stop when they saw Asher came stumbling into the hall, clutching something protectively against his chest.

"Asher?" Jon, worried for his friend, called out to him.

Asher raised his head and looked Jon in the eyes, "Jon? How did you come to know that you had a bond with Gale or Ghost?"

Whatever Jon thought, he didn't expect to hear that question, stutteringly he answered, "A calling of some kind…a tug in your mind, a feeling that was not yours but not unfamiliar either…it is quite hard to explain to someone who doesn't have a warg bond." Robb and Lord Reed nodded their heads in agreement. "Why are you asking that, Asher?"

"I think I have just found my own familiar." Asher slowly raised his cupped hands for all to see, a tiny raven chick raised its head and looked at them with curious eyes.

*Line Break*

Ned was having a blissful morning; it wasn't often he had the leave to wake up late. When as usual, he had woken with the first ray of the morning sun, he decided to indulge for the day and went back to sleep snuggling against Catelyn. His wife smiled in her sleep and scooted closer into his chest. Ned buried his nose in her hair and took a deep whiff, filling his nostrils with a flowery scent. The moment was broken by incessant scratching noises and whining that came from outside of their room. At first, Ned thought to ignore it, but Iss was relentless, she started to push against the closed doors. Ned knew that none of the guards dared to go near the she-wolf to stop her from waking their lord and lady. With a sigh, he kissed Catelyn's forehead and got up from the bed.

Catelyn moaned at the loss of body heat, "Ned, I thought we were sleeping in today?" She whined from under the furs.

"I thought so too, my love, but as you can hear, one of my daughters is quite insistent for my company." Ned chuckled, he had welcomed the idea of Iss being another daughter of his.

Catelyn raised her head and looked at him askance, when she heard the scratching and whining, she dropped her head back on the pillow, "That wolf. Go then, go and see what your daughter wants. I swear to the Gods that Iss is fussier than Sansa." She grumbled.

Ned dressed and opened the doors for Iss and her litter to come bounding inside. Nymeria and Shaggydog went straight for the bed and jumped up on it. Iss bowled Ned down on the ground and started to lick all over his face while the other pups, Lady and the unnamed one, sat quietly beside them. Nymeria shoved her cold nose against the warm skin of Catelyn's neck, making her jump up with a shriek.

"Nymeria!" The pups jumped down from the bed and hid behind Ned, who was laughing at their acts, thinking how alike the wolves were with their humans. Nymeria surely showed the same mischievousness as Arya. "Ned, if you don't get that brood out of my bedroom, I swear I will do something that you will regret."

Chuckling, Ned ushered the wolves outside of the room. He thought of going to the Godswood, but Iss had something else on her mind. She caught hold of Ned's cloak and dragged him towards the North Gates. Ned tried to free his cloak from the wolf, but she kept pulling and pushing him.

"What is the matter, girl? Do you want to go out of the keep?"

Iss bounded a few paces ahead and barked back at him. Ned turned to look at the stable and found that Old Nan's grandson, Hodor standing in front of it. The giant of a man had a big smile on his face as usual. Ned smiled at him.

"Good morning, Hodor. Would you mind getting my horse ready and bringing him to me? It appears that I need to venture out of the keep this morning."

"Hodor!" The gentle giant nodded his head enthusiastically and went to fetch Ned's horse. Ned spent the time trying to stop Iss from dragging him from the place. Soon, Hodor brought his horse saddled and ready. Ned gave him a nod and got up on the horse, he patted at the neck of the animal to calm him as the animal was skittish of being close to a predator like the direwolves. He took off with a slow trot, Iss bounding ahead of him with her pups chasing after their mother.

Ned didn't know where Iss was taking him, he followed her into the Wolfswood. After riding for about thirty minutes through the woods, they stopped before a Weirwood tree. Iss was sniffing at the roots and making whining noises. The pups sat around with their heads cocked looking curiously at their mother.

Ned got down from the horse and went to pacify his wolf daughter. "What is it, girl? What got you so agitated?"

A rustling of leaves alerted Ned that they weren't alone, he swiftly stood up and unsheathed his sword. What he saw made his grip slacken and the sword drop from his hand. Children of the Forest materialized from the foliage and were looking curiously at him. He had heard about them from Jon and Robb, but he never expected to see one of them himself, let alone four.

"Peace, kind ór stark. Vér erum hí sem khampioninn spyrjumk oss til koma. Hrafnrinn sends hans regards" (Peace, child of Stark. We are here as the champion asked us to come. The Raven sends his regards.)

Ned cursed in his mind for his inability to understand or speak Old Tongue quite clearly. He knew a few words, but that was it. He had asked Nan to teach his children the language of the First men after he heard how it helped Jon to communicate with the Children, but he never partook in those lessons himself. He roughly understood that they were talking about coming to this side of the Wall because Jon somehow requested them. Also, someone, he didn't catch it cleanly, had sent his regards. The Child who spoke to him seemed to be the leader of the small group. The other three were on the ground playing with the pups, Iss sat at a side with her tongue lolling out of her mouth, a proud mother watching over her pups. Their laughter rang as that of tinkling bells. Ned turned to the leader, thinking what he was to do now. He pointed at his chest and spoke in his broken Old Tongue –

"Mik Ned Stark." (Me Ned Stark)

The leader smiled with an innocence of a babe, they pointed at their own chest, "Mik Willow." (Me Willow)

Ned wondered what to do next, a thousand and one thoughts were running through his head. He thought it would be better to invite the Children to the castle, if they intend to come with him, that is, and think with a clearer head. He indicated to the horse and said –

"kommitr mér…er...home, I mean heima?" (Come with me, home)

Willow nodded their head, they spoke to the other Children and everyone got ready to leave with Ned. As he got up on his horse and offered a hand to Willow, they shook their head and indicated the smallest of their group to him.

"þú takvindrr mit þér." (You take Wind with you)

The smallest being smiled at him and pointed at their chest, "Mik Wind." (Me Wind)

Ned nodded his head in greeting, Willow helped Wind to get up on the horse. Ned secured the Child in front of him, he turned to see that the rest of the Children had climbed on the back of Iss, the she-wolf started to walk away with a slow gait, the pups yipping and running ahead of her. Ned shook his head at the thought of how bizarre their procession would be taken by onlookers. Jon had brought changes for all of them. He looked up in the sky and smiled imagining his sister. Lya, your boy is truly amazing – he thought.

[CotW]

Catelyn's was not in a good mood that morning. She had hoped for a bit of morning romance when they decided to sleep in for the day, but her husband's wolf had poured a bucket of snow on that plan. What was more, that damnable pup that Arya chose for her companion, shoved her nose into her neck. She still shivered thinking of the cold nose suddenly pressed against her skin. With a sigh, she started to get ready for the day and her duties as the Lady of the keep. No sooner than she stepped out of the rooms, her youngest son slammed into her sobbing. Worried, she got down to her knees and took hold of her son's face in her hands.

"Rickon, what is the matter sweetling?"

"I can't find Shaggy, mama. I have looked everywhere…" Rickon started to bawl again.

Catelyn picked up her son and placed him on her hip, "I am sure he is around somewhere, little pup. Have you checked the broken tower?"

"I did, mama, I did! He is not there!"

"Mother!"

Catelyn sighed and turned around as Sansa approached her with a worried look on her face. It seemed all of her children are very agitated this morning.

"What is it, sweetheart?"

"Lady is missing, Mother!"

"So is Nymeria!" Arya had joined them by now.

"But I saw them not an hour ago, Iss had come into our rooms to woke us up with the pups."

She took her children to find the errant wolves. They checked every possible place of the keep but couldn't find any of them. Catelyn was getting worried about the sudden disappearance, at first, she had taken it lightly, but as time passed, she too started to get restless with her children. She asked a few servants to continue the search for the wolves while she went to look into her husband's solar to notify him of the wolves' disappearance, but there was nobody in there. He wasn't in the Godswood either, she had already looked there. She called for Jory Cassel and Vayon Poole.

"Have you seen Lord Stark?"

"I was just coming to you, My Lady, when I heard you were looking for the wolves. Lord Stark had gone out with the wolves, he asked Hodor to bring his horse and went out the North Gates. He probably has gone for a ride, milady" Jory answered.

Irritated at her husband now that he has gone for the joyride with the wolves and the children got panicked because of that, Catelyn dismissed the men and went out to find and console the little ones. She turned around a corner and almost collided with a running Rickon, whom she ordered Theon to keep an eye on.

"Mama, Shaggy is coming back! He's gone with father!"

"Yes, little pup, your father took the wolves for a ride through the woods." She smiled down at him.

A panting Theon skidded to a halt in front of her, "Pardon me, My Lady. Rickon escaped from me when he heard that Lord Stark is returning."

"He is returning?"

"Yes, My Lady, we were talking with Jory when a guard informed us that they spotted him coming out of the Wolfswood.

Rickon again ran off yelling out Shaggydog's name. Catelyn chased after her son. They came to a stop near the North Gates, the guards at the gatehouse were whispering among them confusedly. She heard one of the guards yelled for the gates to open but nobody rode through it. Curious, she walked out of the gates with Ser Rodrick and Jory flanking her, she had a tight hold on Rickon's shoulder. She was surprised to see her husband standing a few yards away from the gates.

"Someone please send for Nan!" Ned shouted from where he stood, "My Lady," he called for Catelyn, "will you please come forward? Bring the children with you, there is nothing to fear!"

She looked to her side to find Sansa keeping a tight hold on Bran and Arya's shoulders. The eyes of her eldest daughter's had gone as wide as her own, for she too was wondering what came upon her father, whereas the youngest three were vibrating with excitement. Jory wanted to come along with them with some guards but Ned put up a hand to stop him or any other men from joining their party. Hodor had come forward supporting his grandmother. The old woman smiled at her when they came to stop beside her. Cautiously, the seven of them approached where Ned stood. He gave her a reassuring smile before turning to Old Nan. He spoke softly to her so that none could hear his words beside them -

"Good morning, Nan. I am sorry to trouble you but we have some guests who don't want to be surrounded by walls. I need you to help us as a speaker of sorts because I am afraid, my Old Tongue is quite rusty."

"Of course, milord." The old woman muttered not understanding what their lord was up to.

Ned indicated them to follow him, the children asked their father where they were going, but all he did was smiled at them and told them that it was a surprise for all of them. Catelyn didn't like all these mysteries, she would have to have a word with her lord husband once they were back at the keep. She looked back over her shoulders to find Ser Rodrick and Jory standing at the gates with frowns on their faces. They didn't like the fact that their lord's entire family was going into the woods without any armed guard, but they couldn't do anything as it was Lord Stark himself who had stopped them. Theon, Cley, Lady Ella – all were standing there with curious looks on their faces. She turned back to see Ned was leading them into the treelines. She was about to object to the dangers in there but he shook his head to her. Soon, they found themselves in a small clearing a few yards into the woods. All of them gasped at what they saw, four beings of short stature, skins like tree barks and the green of colour, stood among the wolves. Catelyn recognized them from Jon's tale, she was standing before the Children of Forests herself. Everyone save Rickon was rooted to their spots, but her youngest let out a happy squeal seeing his wolf companion and rushed to Shaggydog. Catelyn tried to stop him but she found that she couldn't utter a single word. Ned gave them all another reassuring smile.

"Everyone, I would like to introduce you to the Children of the Forest. Aye, I know you are thinking that it is quite impossible, but here they are, just as Jon and Robb said. The one in the middle is called Willow, they seemed to be the leader of this small group. Nan, please introduce them to my wife and children."

Old Nan nodded her head as if in a trance.

"Heil ancient einn, ek em köllumk gamall nan. Þessi eru minn lorð stark's kind. Hans wife, ladyrinn katelyn. Þeirdaughtersr, ladr sansokr arya, ok sons,inn lords brandon ok rickon. Ok þessi poor kind með mik er minn grandson, walder." (Greetings ancient one, I am called Old Nan. These are My Lord Stark's family. His wife, the Lady Catelyn. Their daughters, Ladies Sansa and Arya, and the sons, Lords Brandon and Rickon. And this poor child beside me is my grandson, Walder.)

One of the Children, whom Ned pointed out to be the leader, gave them all an innocent smile that of a small human babe. They nodded to them.

"Minn greetings, kinder ór menn. Ek em köllumk willow. Þessi hí eru minn kompanions - rose, birch ok vindr. Vér vóro spyrjumk til komhír til stark's heimmeðr godsrinn' khosen, khampionrinn hvæn þú veit sem jon snow." (My greetings, children of men. I am called Willow. These here are my companions - Rose, Birch and Wind. We were asked to come here to Stark's home by the Gods' chosen, the Champion whom you know as Jon Snow.)

"They are called Willow, Rose, Birch and Wind, milord. They are here because Jon Snow asked them to come." Her voice shook, Catelyn could hear she was muttering to herself, "He is the Gods' chosen?"

The Child continued, "Vér erum hí til fylgjagð þú tame soilrinn. Kinder ór menn munu munu needing giftanórr earth,inn fyrir harðr tími er koming fyrir allr ór oss. Vér munu sing okkarr songs til tréjar,inn grounð ok beastsrinn. Hugseigir, kind ór stark. Fylgjagð munu munu given til þau hverr spyrja." (We are here to help you tame the soil. Children of men will be needing the gifts of the earth, for a hard time is coming for all of us. We will sing our songs to the trees, ground and beasts. Think not, child of Stark. Help will be given to those who ask.)

"They are here to help us farm, milord," Old Nan's eyes glinted, "they will help us grow food. They will weave their magic for all who need their help."

Ned had a small smile on his face, "Ask them what they need from us? What can I do to help them?"

"Minn elders, hvat meglorðr stark til gertilr fylgjagð þú?" (My elders, what can Lord Stark do to help you?)

Willow shook their head, "Vér hafhvatvetnar vér þorfua. Fyrir earthinn tekr kare ór oss. Vér gereigir þorfuþinnr kages ór stone. Vér munu munu living among tréjarrinn. Er þú þorfuossr, spyrjwolvesrinnr. Wolvesrinn munu veit hvernig til vitossr." (We have everything we need. For the Earth takes care of us. We do not need your cages of stone. We will be living among the trees. When you need us, ask the wolves. The wolves will know how to find us.)

"They don't need any help, milord. They say that they will be alright living in the woods. When we be needing them, we are to ask the wolves. They say that the wolves can always find them."

Ned tried to say something but the Child cut him off, "Vér munu try til rit wrangerr at hafmuniðr done til þessi poor kind. Annarr tími, at er enn til pass, en Mayneverr koma, hafleftr sinn kurse á hans minð. Hrafnrinn's pupil munu munu needing hans strongest protector til keep hann safe." (We will try to right a wrong that has been done to this poor child. Another time, which is yet to pass, but may never come, has left its curse on his mind. The Raven's pupil will be needing his strongest protector to keep him safe.)

The four Children approached Hodor, the gentle giant smiled down at them and said, "Hodor!" They took him by his hand and led him a few paces away from the others.

"What did they say?" Catelyn asked.

"They said they are going to right a wrong. Something about time has left its curse on me boy…but my Walder, he is like that since he was a wee lad." The old woman started to fret.

Catelyn put her arm around the older woman's shoulder. She became quite fond of her since she helped her in her earlier days as the Lady of Winterfell. Old Nan helped her to raise all of her children, with her stories and songs, she entertained them when they were little, took care of them as if they were her grandchildren. Even to this day, she knew that the kind old woman often smuggled lemon cakes to Sansa or meat pies to Arya, which she made herself, especially for the girls. She could feel the old woman's agitation for her only living relative. She was shocked to know that his name was Walder. Like others, she too became used to the simple-minded giant of a man called Hodor.

The Children had Walder sitting on his knees, they were going in a circle around him while chanting in an unknown language. The rhythm and tone of the chant made all of them sway on their feet as if the world was dancing to the Children's tune. They made Walder eat something that looked like a red paste. The man clasped his hands at his head and started to sway where he sat. As the chanting rose in pitch, Walder started to convulse. He let out a muffled scream and collapsed on the ground.

"Walder!" Nan screamed and tried to go to her grandson, but Catelyn held onto her.

Slowly, Walder got up from the ground and looked everywhere wildly. When his eyes fell upon Nan, he called out to her, "Nana!"

All of them were surprised to hear something else than the word "Hodor" coming out of the man's mouth. Nan broke down crying, "Me boy, you are cured…my wee Walder…"

Walder came to her and wrapped his massive arms around the old woman, almost lifting her off the ground, "Aye, Nana. I am cured. I was in this haze, I could see and hear you all, but I was afraid to reach out to you. They cured me, Nana. They called me out with their song and the haze faded." Both grandmother and grandson were crying in happiness.

The one called Willow approached the Starks. Sansa shifted closer to her father and Ned wrapped an arm around her shoulder.

"Pack at veiðir sem einn, munu remain sterkr forever. Kinder ór stark eru þorfumk til eltdarknesanar away. Þeir eigfylgjagðr ljós leggja." (Pack that hunts as one, will remain strong forever. Children of stark are needed to chase the darkness away. They must help the Light Bringer.)

They brought out some things from inside of their clothing and handed them out to Sansa, Arya and Bran. They looked for Rickon but he was still wrestling with Shaggydog, so they handed whatever it was meant for him, to Catelyn. She looked down to her hands to see that there was something like an arrowhead, made out of obsidian and carved delicately to resemble that of a wolf's head. Upon closer inspection, she found tiny runes of the First Men also carved in them. She looked up in wonder to the Child.

"Magic er sterkr með starksrinn. Blooð ór gamall munu sing again inn þeirveinsr." (Magic is strong with the Starks. Blood of old will sing again in their veins.)

They all looked at Nan questioningly, the old woman had calmed down somewhat. Stutteringly, she said –

"They said that the Starks are needed to fight against the darkness, they are to help the…Light Bringer? Those talismans will help them, for they have the blood of the First Men…"

"Vér bið þú farewell fyrir nú, kinder ór menn. Spyrjwolveanar er þú þorfuossr, þeir munu leggjþúr til oss." (We bid you farewell, for now, Children of Men. Ask the wolves when you need us, they will bring you to us.)

The Children nodded to them and appeared to be melted back within the greenery. Leaving behind the Stark family who was still struggling with what they had all experienced that morning.

"Ned, how are we to explain this?" Catelyn waved her hands.

"We saw the Children of the Forest!" Bran and Arya found their voices.

"Quiet down, children. You must not tell anyone that you have met them." Ned said in a stern voice.

"But Father…" Bran whined.

"No son, you must promise me to keep this a secret, do you understand? I only brought you here so that you can meet with them, but they must remain a secret. People outside of the North fear magic, if they come to know of them, they will hunt them down. You don't want them to die, do you?" Bran shook his head. "Then you must give me your words that you will keep this meeting a secret."

Bran nodded reluctantly, but Arya had a scowl on her face.

"Hang on, Jon met with the Children but he didn't tell me?"

"Arya," Sansa sighed, "if he didn't tell you then he probably didn't want anybody to know besides Father and Mother."

"But I am his little sister, he tells me everything!"

Sansa got down on her knees, "I understand, little wolf. He didn't tell me either and he is my best friend. We will ask him why the next time we see him. But you must do as Father asks, this is the Pack Secret, do you understand, little wolf?" Arya nodded her head and hugged her sister.

The parents stood there amazed at the display, Catelyn had tears in her eyes, it reminded her of the time she spent with Lysa. She turned back to Ned.

"What about Rickon, Ned, he is but a babe, he will not understand the urgency to keep the Children a secret."

"Aye, my love, he is but a babe, and that is why whatever he says, will be taken as a child's fancy," Ned smirked at her.

"And how are we to explain Hod…Walder?"

Old Nan had composed herself by then, she wiped her tears away and turned towards her lord and lady, "Milord Stark had met with a hedge-witch on his ride this morning, milady, she promised him that she has a cure for my Walder. She gave him a potion and he is now a man as he should be. She also gave the lord's children talismans to keep them safe. Lord Stark first thought to humour her but when he saw the effect of the potion on Walder, he agreed to accept the talismans for the children." She turned towards the children, "Give me those, my dears, I will fashion lockets for you to wear."

Catelyn and Ned looked at each other, both amazed at the level of cunning the old woman showed. they handed over the arrowheads to Nan.

"Do Robb and Jon also have these talismans?" Sansa asked.

"No sweetling, they had different blessings."

"Will you tell us about them, Mother?" Arya was very eager.

"Yes, I will, once we are back at the keep."

Ned went to fetch Rickon who was still on the ground with Shaggydog.

"Come, little pup, we are returning home."

"Father, I saw the Children! From Nan's stories!"

"You did?"

"Aye, I did, Father, I did! Shaggy saw them too, didn't you Shaggy?"

*Line Break*

Jon was sitting under the Hearts Tree of Greywater Watch. Godswood always had a calming effect on him. He thought that he was done with emotional turmoil, but the meeting he had at Lord Reed's solar with Ser Arthur Dayne had proved him wrong.

*Flashback*

They all had convened in Lord Reed's solar after the morning meal. The Lord had promised to give lessons to Robb and Asher as he did to Jon to understand their gifts and take better care of their companions when they share their minds. Torrhen was a little miffed that he was the only one among the Pack without any animal companion. Jon assured him that if he possessed the gift, then his companion will reveal itself to him sooner or later.

As they sat around the desk, they were a little more composed than the previous night. Asher had gotten over the shock of finding he had a warg bond. Still, he was looking at Ser Arthur with worship in his eyes.

"I take it you have questions?" Lord Howland tried to break the ice.

Jon had a hard time not to snort out loud at the obvious question. "Aye, My Lord, you are right." He turned towards the knight, "How are you alive? Where were you? Who else knows of you?"

Arthur grimaced before answering, "You must understand Your Grace -" Jon opened his mouth to say something, but Arthur pressed on, "Forgive me, Lord Howland told me about your arguments regarding the honorifics, but it is quite hard for a Kingsguard to address a royal without them. I will try to abide by your wishes…Jon." He gave him a small smile.

"As I was saying, you must understand the situation after the Rebellion. Any Targaryen loyalists were put through scrutiny. Some who had partaken in the war was sent to the Wall, others were penalized. Velaryon, Celtiger, Darry – all the loyalist families were under constant watch, they still are. Any indication of them doing otherwise than what the Ruling power from Kings' Landing dictated, would have thwarted with extreme prejudice. I spent the last fifteen years either sequestered here at Greywater Watch, out of everyone's notice, or travelling through Essos, trying to find your uncle and aunt, but luck never seemed to be favourable for me. Whenever I was closing in on them, the stag king's men crossed my path and I had to abandon my search lest I led them to the dragons myself.

As for how I am alive, that you can say thanks to Howland here. Northmen led by your Uncle Ned had reached the Tower of Joy in search of Princess Lyanna. There were none but us three to standing between what we thought the usurper's men and the heir to the throne and Queen Regent. We had heard the news of Princess Elia. We didn't know what happened to the pregnant and frail Queen Rhaella. All we knew was that we three were all that stood between the enemy and the last of the dragons. We fought, we fought with everything we had. Gerold was the first to fall, but not before taking three Northmen with him. Then Oswell. I was the last to face Ned Stark, Howland was already wounded, so I didn't pay any attention to him. Lord Stark is a fine swordsman, he fought with a style that I have never seen before. The same style I encountered just this morning when I sparred with you. We locked blades and by the Gods' graces, I had the upper hand on your uncle. But I paid the price of ignoring the crafty Crannogman. Howland jumped at my back with a dagger, I was on my knees with your uncle's sword at my neck, I would have lost my head if not a piercing scream came from the tower. Lord Stark ran inside in search of his sister, Princess Lyanna. Howland came to me and apologized for stabbing me in the back. He treated my wounds and told me to stay put while he went after his lord. I don't know for how long I sat with my back against a boulder, contemplating my options. Then Howland came back announcing the birth of an heir, also the death of the Queen Regent. He dug graves in the red sand. Giving his and my companions the burials. Not proper ones, yes, but that was all he could do at that moment. He urged me to hide. He convinced me about the honourable Ned Stark that he won't let anything happen to his blood, the last of the dragons, but he couldn't assure me that I would be left alive by the grief-stricken Lord of Winterfell. I hid, while Howland staged an empty grave with my marker. I had lost my King, my Prince, the Princesses, I lost my brothers that day – Ser Gerold, Ser Oswell, finest knights the kingdoms have ever seen. Thousands have died, all because of Rheager's mistake."

Jon narrowed his eyes, "Mistake?"

"Yes, My Prince, mistake. He was my best friend, the finest man that I had the privilege to know, but he wasn't above his follies. 'Tis true that he travelled the kingdoms in secret, acting a bard and giving away his earnings to the smallfolk. A brave warrior and a beautiful singer. All of these added to the legend of the Bard Prince. However, nobody sings about the madness he possessed. The Targaryen curse affected him too but in a different way. He was melancholic, he brooded for days. He often acted out in ways that defied any logic. How else do you explain his knighting of Gregor Clegane? He knighted the man just because he won a tourney with his brutality while possessing neither traits of a true knight. But there he was, he knighted Miles Mooton, Richard Lonmouth, his squires, and Gregor Clegane after a tourney at Lannisport. He didn't care how his action was taken by the others. Whenever he became broody, he would shut himself off from the world. Not even his mother's plight or his daughter's tears would tear him away from his thoughts. He was obsessed with his prophecy, wouldn't hear anything against it. He loved your mother, yes, but how he approached the already volatile situations? Did he make contact with Lord Rickard? Did he go along with the plan of deposing the Mad King as everyone planned? No, he became obsessed once again after Robert Baratheon claimed betrothal for Princess Lyanna. The tourney of Harrenhal was just a veil for the lords of the realms to gather together and plan on how to remove the tyrant. Only nobody expected the King to arrive there. Rheager forgot everything about deposing the Mad King. Princess Lyanna became his only goal. I tried to talk to him, but he was adamant. Your mother, a lady from a Great House, but was a naïve girl of fifteen namedays old. She was desperate to be free from the forced betrothal and marry her prince. She ran away and gave a letter for her father and brother to the hands of a passing noble whom she only knew about from her correspondence with another. I urged them to ride for the North after their marriage, but they went to Dorne instead. He didn't even try to reach out for Doran or Oberyn, they hid in that cursed Tower of Joy till the news of the executions of Lords Rickard and Brandon came from the Capitol. So no, My Prince, for every greatness that the Bard Prince bore, his madness also played a part. He fell in love, twice over, and thousands paid the price for that with their lives."

Jon was seething, he had created an image of his father in his mind from the legends that he read or heard. A Prince who fell in love and paid the ultimate price for it. He had heard about his gentle natures, his chivalry. But none had said anything about the madness. To hear about them from Ser Arthur Dayne, his father's closest friend, was as if a physical blow.

"Forgive me, My Prince, I shouldn't have spoken ill of your father. I have been playing all the incidents in my head over and over for the past fifteen years. What could have I done or said differently that would have saved all of them – the thought pricked my conscience every waking moment. Seeing you now, the exact image of your father but with your mother's features and colouring, I couldn't stop myself."

Jon was scowling down at the table, he didn't reply anything. He felt a hand on his shoulder, he looked up to see Robb staring at him with a concerned look on his face. He gave him a small nod.

"Tell me, Ser, this madness of Prince Rhaeger you are speaking of, would it be the prophecy of the prince that was promised?" Jon's eyes appeared as if two small flames of purple fire. Ser Arthur squirmed in his seat and nodded his head reluctantly.

Jon nodded along, "I don't know the man as you do. So I won't claim that I understand his thoughts. Aye, he does sound to be affected by the Targaryen madness, a different kind but madness still, what with his melancholic nature. But the reason behind it, they were not baseless."

Arthur tried to open his mouth but Jon raised a hand to stop him.

"I am sure that Lord Reed had told you about me when he returned home from Bear Island?" Howland bowed his head in affirmative, "Did he describe me to you? You talked about my mother's colours, did he said that I had the Stark grey eyes?" Arthur nodded confusedly. "What do they appear to you now?"

"They are purple…?"

"Aye, they are purple, eyes don't change their colours just like that. But here I am. I would tell you the reason, but you might say that I am afflicted with the madness of my forbearers."

"My Prince, I…"

"No, Ser, I have heard you, now I believe it is your turn. What would you say if I tell you that I have met with Lord Bloodraven? Would you say that I have gone as insane as my grandfather if I tell you that I have met with the Children of Forest? Prince Rhaeger mayhaps had the Targaryen madness for he pursued a prophecy," he had gotten up on his feet, "his ways may have been wrong, but my good Ser, I can assure you, the reason behind them was not. For I am the Prince that was promised."

Jon thrusted his hands forward with palms up, red flames erupted from them. Lord Howland and Ser Arthur yelped and scrambled up on their feet. Jon collapsed back down on his seat as the fire died out. Robb and the others were sitting quietly back, with grim faces.

"What the fuck was that?" Arthur rasped.

Robb sighed and nodded at Asher, who got up and poured a cup of ale and held it out to Jon.

"That was the magic of the bloodlines that Jon has flowing in his veins – Blood of Winter Kings, Children of the Forest and Old Valyria." He turned from Jon who was leaning back in his seat with half leaded eyes. "Please excuse my cousin, My Lord, Ser. We both have what my lord father calls the wolfblood, making us quite quick to anger, though Jon could control his emotions better, I fear hearing accusations about his parents had pushed him far. Add to that his dragonblood, and well…"

The three friends explained about their ranging beyond the Wall and meeting with Bloodraven and the Children while Jon sat quietly recovering from his outburst, he knew that he was being unfair to Ser Arthur, for the man was speaking the truth about his father. But his mind rebelled to accept his follies, he thirsted to know about his parents, and who could be better to tell than his father's best friend. What he wasn't ready to hear was the blame of madness. As his mind simmered down, he started to think about what he heard. It did sound that his father was afflicted with the curse of Targaryens. He wondered if he was affected by it as well. The only other Targaryen he met was Maester Aemon, but he didn't see any hint of the madness in him. He wondered about Viserys and Daenerys – do they have the touch of madness as well? Only time will tell.

He looked up to see the sombre faces of everyone, Robb had finished telling them about Lady Minerva and the threat that was approaching mankind. He cleared his throat.

"My Lord Reed, please forgive my behaviour. I have no excuse for acting so rudely under your roof. I was out of my limit." He turned towards Arthur, "Ser…Uncle Arthur," the knight looked up at him with wide eyes, "that was how my mother wrote to me about you. I hope you don't mind if I call you that?" Arthur shook his head, "I ask that you forgive me too, I shouldn't have lost my temper that way. I have been eager to know about my father, but I was unprepared to learn about his shortcomings. I should have expected the bad along with the good. Please, Uncle Arthur, I beg you to forgive me."

"There is nothing to forgive, My Pr…Aemon." Tears sparkled in the corners of his eyes. "The Princess wrote to you about me?"

"Aye, she wrote in her letter about how you said you would train me with a sword before I learnt to walk properly, and how she threatened to beat you with the biggest stick she could find if you had done so."

Arthur chuckled, "Yes, she did do that."

*Flashback End*

They talked some more after that. For someone like Ser Arthur, it was rather hard to believe about Children of Forest or a still alive man from legends. But on the other hand, he also witnessed Jon conjuring fire atop his palms. He had asked numerous questions about the visions he had. Jon was almost tempted to tell him about Theon's treasure, but that was a Northern secret. Jon sighed and turned to go back to their room back at the keep, but he stopped short in his tracks when as he was staring into the unnerving gaze of Jojen Reed.

"Lord Jojen," Jon nodded his head in greeting, "shouldn't you be in bed at this hour of the night?"

"You are marked." Came his emotionless reply.

"I am sorry?" Jon looked closer at the boy, his face appears as if carved from the Weirwood, pale and without any life in it.

"The Gods have chosen you, My Prince. You are the cog that will change the world as we come to know it. Like others before you."

Jon took a quick look around the Godswood, at this hour of the night, the sacred place was devoid of any soul other than them.

"Did your lord father tell you about me?"

"It is I who tells my father about things that will come, things that may never be and the things that were, My Prince. It was I who convinced him to go along with you on your journey to the Bear Island. I knew you needed his talents. I saw it."

"You are a Greenseer!" Jon sucked in a breath.

"Aye, My Prince, like you, the Gods also have blessed me. I am not as powerful as you though. I can see images of times and I can feel the calling of the others who share in our gifts."

Jon narrowed his eyes, "Could you be one of the disciples of Bloodraven?"

"I am afraid not. I could become a follower for the Raven, but I am not the disciple. It is not in my destiny. Though my sight tells me that we will be crossing path quite soon. The rest of my sight is still obscured from me."

Jon was deep in thought. Jojen appeared to be quite a powerful little Greenseer. Though his gifts were different from what he came to know. He could become an important part of the resistance to the struggles to come.

"I may have something with me that can help you with your sights, My Lord. But I am afraid that I will need to consult with your lord father before I can offer it to you. It is not to be taken in a lark."

"Aye, I quite agree with you, My Prince. The Weirwood paste will wreak havoc with my mental fortitude, as it has done for you and your companions. If I am not quite mistaken, you are still struggling to get back the mental acuity you possessed before. Bear with it, you have been granted a boon, it demands some sacrifice, for magic is a sword without a hilt, it cuts both ways. However, I am sure you will once again reach your potential, My Prince."

Jojen was eerily calm throughout their entire conversation. Jon decided he needed to talk with Lord Howland first thing in the morning.