North

Rickard was again in his study room of castle Winterfell. In recent times, he had taken a laid-back approach to his rue in the North, given most of his responsibilities were having a gradual shift, and the tragedies to befell upon him had given him a chance to see life differently than the other Lords saw.

When the self-proclaimed king of the Old Gods, the ALLFATHER had come to his door, he was suspicious, doubtful of the legitimacy of the information delivered to him, which was justified, given not every day he welcomed Gods to his castle.

Also, the young boy, looking no older than twenty and five, did not seem to look like the beings in question, OLD gods.

But it had been quenched by the feeling in his gut. Now, normally, In making decisions such as making someone unknown the foster father, giving him the authority to veto and make decisions for the warden of North is something one should not finalize on the gut feeling.

But whether he had been enchanted or just the awe of the possibilities it held, he had been sold to the boy. He had believed the man outright, and till now, with the gold flowing in his coffers and the construction he had approved, he did not seem to regret his decisions.

Rickard Stark was the most ambitious of the bunch of Starks the North had seen in generations. He did not want the Iron Throne, no that was not on his list but having absolute domination in the North and some relations with the South was something he sought for his house.

To put the Starks in a favorable position on all fronts, who did not want that for their family?

He had sought the betrothal of his eldest with the Tullys once some time ago before the Mimirsen had come to his realm, but afterward the revelation of the unjust death of his and his son, he had let Brandon loose reigns of the responsibilities that tied him from enjoying his remnant time in the realm of the mortals.

While he felt questionably quiet and calm about the end of his life due to the hand of the king, he was old and lived enough for him to let go of his life for the next generation to prosper and enjoy theirs, but the addition of Brandon's life had imbalanced the scales in his mind.

If it was the prosperity of the North and his house, he held no love for his wife and was ready to let go ad he held little attachment to it. True, there were his children to be his anchor in this plane, but if he could appease the Drowned god by sinking the ship called Rickard Stark for the storm to peace out, then Rickard would not pay any heed to the Anchors that held him from this noble purpose.

As for Brandon, Rickard had sought a way out for him, asking for a future where he lives, but even the Old Gods did not seem to have absolute authority over the planes of men, and the ones who oversaw them were no kind gods.

So he left the decision to his son instead. If his son was to choose his life over the future Starks, he would not be disappointed, as may he be a Stark, he held his life with him. While sacrificing lives for the greater good was one's duty, the life he could sacrifice was only his as one did not have others' lives to do the bidding.

When Brandon had made his intentions clear, having the same end as him, on one hand, he was sad and disappointed, disappointed in himself as he drove his own kin and son to his death, asking something like this from him, but at the same time proud of the boy who did not flinch on the prospect of his death over the prosperity of his family.

Brandon had taken a wife, and Rickard himself officiated the wedding. The girl was a commoner, from the Vale who had her family working in King's Landing. Rickard held nothing against the parentage of the girl after knowing it was not time to spare his mind on matters like these, he was just happy for his son and the addition of a child to his family line.

The girl was pregnant, and about halfway there, Mimirsen had bound some magic spell to her, which did not allow her to know Brandon's identity as the heir to Winterfell, and he was adamant on keeping the spell active till the firstborn child had yet to set foot in the world.

The problems Rickard faced were of a smaller stature now, as the road plan to administration was given to him by Jim. He was given full reign to change any of it as he saw fit, but till now most of it just repaid each decision tenfold.

The problems were smaller now, the biggest one he had was how the address the ALLFATHER, as ALLFATHER and MIMIRSEN were titles more than names, and calling him Jim sounded disrespectable for a man- no god of his stature.

Jim was adamant about saying the Old gods were not gods but just men with the power to be connected with faith, but that's what gods were in the first place.

Today he had received the word of the ship's construction going as planned, faster even as the workers had conveyed at this pace, they were to build the abomination of a warship by the end of this year, 3 months before the minimum Mimirsen had told him it would take.

Mimirsen was set to reach Winterfell tomorrow or the day after, which would mark the start of emptying out the beautiful sight of Stark's coffers as they were now.

/bell sounds/

Rickard stood up to see the reason bells were sounded, as even Brandon did not receive such a welcome in Winterfell, so someone important had just come to visit them unannounced.

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[watched the house of Dragons today, hope Cregan Stark plays a bigger role in season 2]